Monday, April 30, 2007

Moving House Tomorrow

A note to day that I won't be posting for a few days until I get connected again, hopefully on May 02.

I am back after another stayover at my parents; there was the usual coordinated movement of their limbs and particularly my mother's feet would close in on the TV screen. My father also did his bit for standing immediately in front of the TV, putting on the Alzeimer's act again, though he is full measure for pulling gangstalking moves. Another of his stunts was obstruction; a "sudden" urge to take a pee came over me, and there he was blocking egress to the downstairs toilet, my usual habit as there is less people traffic downstairs. And lo, if he didn't leave a pile of shit in it when I went to use it this morning. More family shit games; it never ends.

It looks like I am getting a new fridge in my new apartment, the second time in three locations. I suspect fridge storage of foods gives the perps problems in their remote energy assay games, as they have an inordinant interest in fucking with food as it goes in or out. I am getting a new stove as it turns out, so it seems that the perps are in this for another long haul, a year or more. The lease is for a year, and I don't expect the fuckers will have solved their brown color problem and the rest of the substantial agenda they are pursuing in less than that.

Yesterday I was picked up to go to my parents by the ex. I expected it would be the ex and our daughter and we would proceed from here to my parent's place for dinner. No, it was back to her place, have some white wine, and wait for 30 minutes until our daughter returned from work at the nearly cinema center. Then we proceeded together in the same vehicle. It was totally unneccessary for the return to the ex's place as our daughter has her own vehicle, my old 1982 Volvo 245. After sipping the wine in the garden and listening to this constant noise barrage of 2 cycle motorcycle engines (think Harley Davidson) in the near distance, I was more than ready to go. There were plasma goings-on and at least one 6' x 4" vertical orange beam against the green backdrop. It seemed to me it was a gangstalk to have me remotely assayed there with the help of the abundant noisestalking. Anyhow, funny how all these plans change and I am the last to go.

That wasn't the only change in plan; my in-town brother was to come for dinner, my mother was talking him up as if he was, but got vague on why he phoned later in the day. As it "happened" he was too toasted from moving his sort-of-girlfriend (native Indian) to her new place. Not that it was a big deal, I had the expectation (or it was more likely a planted notion) that I would be able to finalize the moving plans with him and convey these to the new apartment manager, and the manager of this place who is letting me stay on May 01 for moving then.

I took the bus into town to get back to my place. The perps had lightened up on the freak show element some, and the bus was populated at more expectable levels. I got my East Indian gangstalker with the cane act again, this time not at the bus stop pacing back and forth as before, but walking up this adjacent hill, as I was walking down. The perps like to play elevational difference games as often as they can, and this was no exception. Given that this is her second time around on gangstalk duty, and that she is able to walk so much with this cane, she may well be a morphover of my out-of-town brother's wife, who is East Indian. More of all things brown and beautiful.

I got three women in front of me at one interval in the bus ride; there was an East Indian woman with a white hat sitting in front of me for the first 10 minutes. She departed (possibly "too much brown"), then a Caucasian woman with a pink and burgundy jacket on sat in place of the East Indian woman. She had wiry dark brown hair that she liked to tease and twist. Next came an Asian woman who sat beside her, with black hair and bronze highlights. Then an East Indian woman arrive later and was put on sentry duty in the stairwell in front of the seat in front of me with her back toward us. She was spatially arranged exactly between the two women in front of me with her long black train of hair on the outside of her jacket, and part of later flopped in front of the blue formica panel that separated the seat are from the rear exit area. I got this triple hair show/racial color testing for about 10 minutes of bus travel time until they decided to break it up. This seemed to be a hair color and race (skin color) based combination test. I suspect the hair and head touching of last week's Tuesday yoga class feeds into this game, but that doesn't explain much. And they did have a member of that yoga class on the bus as it "so happened", though she wasn't close by to exchange any greeting.

I did get blonded on the bus from 8' away where a young woman was placed for me to see when I came on board, and within a few minutes she leaned forward to allow her hair to drape and I "happened" to see it just then. Regular readers will know that I consider my attention totally controllable by remote means, and I cannot rely on the fact that this is my own curiousity. This explains this new behaviour (since BOH) of looking at things that have no consequence to what I am currently engaged in. And usually these "things" are litter and other introduced debris that have been arranged outside my window. And note, that the operatives and shills step over them, or around them, so they remain in place for weeks.

I had a wondrous gangstalked afternoon at the new apartment; countless elevator games, "come with me" (to check on a fridge), a 30 minute by myself "wait" in the new apartment, ostensibly for evaluating its condition as the manager was "called away", and a few more (faux threatening) hiccups like; "if I didn't get the subsidy money then I cannot give you the keys", and a few other feints that are common. The jist of these is that the perps want a small amount of exposure time to a new item; domicile, person, new location/store/activity, new papers to fill out, etc at first. Then the assholes build up longer exposures to these new items, by changing the circumstances, reshuffling the persons present, having the victim be alone with the new item/place/etc. and then iteratively adding in the gangstalkers, shills and props. Call it a progressively metered exposure approach. This way they can assay the players independently and together in permutations that maximize the energetics interactions they are looking for. That is my theory, and it is best served by the links that I have put on the blog template page.

The perps also do this progressive exposure approach with my vocabulary; some words will "drop out" (read mind-fucked vocabulary constriction) of use for a few weeks, and then "suddenly" be recalled for regular use again. Perhaps this trait is evident over past blogs and I haven't seen them. When I read old paper journals I am impressed at the differing vocabulary of the day, and wonder why I don't have it now. (As I typed that I got three ass jabbings and the coincident loud mufflered vehicle noise, the "performance" mufflers).

And it was an almighty gangstalker nightmare when I departed the new apartment to come back to this putative rooming house; the Coffee Corps were on me first thing (the operatives walking with a coffee mug or cup in front of them in the brown color comparison games they do), there were 6 way gangstalkers confluences at the traffic control (way too many "pedestrians" for this town and that location), and the coordinated and color arranged vehicles engaging in a commute level traffic volume in mid afternoon in four directions (way too many vehicles for this town at that time and only one direction might have been busy).

When I stepped out of my building to go to the new apartment there were 15 red vehicles postioned around me. Some were parked, some were mobile although travelling slowly. They put a two tone brown dressed ambulatory gangstalker ahead of me, and then she paralleled me on my 7 minute walk on Cook St. It was the same when walking back on the same street; a two tone brown dressed gangstalker leading ahead of me. And they had the coffee cup held in front as another brown reference object.

As the federal tax office is on my beat, the perps created major ambulatory traffic around the building, and even went so far as to have a native Indian woman filling out her blue colored tax forms on the benches outside the building. She even brought her husband and children with her. And it should be noted that native Indians do not pay income tax if they live on the reserve, and most keep a reserve address just for this very purpose even if they don't live there full time. Just another brown occurence as I see it, this time it is skin tone instead of coffee or whatever else the assholes are chasing me with.

I got zinger masers (greyish fuzzy balls flipping around) in my vision most of the way back, and even some plasma flashes. I got a blue flash from the underneath of a 5 tonne commercial truck that was passing my in front of me as I was waiting at the traffic control, and lo, within one second, a male gangstalker shows up 6' from me, creeping into my right peripherial vision dressed in two tones of blue!

It is time to call this a posting for the day, and save this blog from more of the evening dreck of being utterly bored with the trivia I have been fucked into dealing with. The rationale is that I should be packing up this room tonight to expedite tommorow's moving.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Fruit Flies as Surrogate Operatives

I am getting the fruit fly assault this morning; at least five passes in the last 40 minutes in conjunction with overhead clunking, next door bathroom gangstalking (no noise of bathroom use), front door slamming and room shaking. The constant vision impairments and maser and plasma action are also part of the deal. The perps have cranked me up to near rage levels this morning; the soy milk "bouncing" out of the bowl was the latest stunt, though not new. And fucking with the keystrokes even more; now they brashly insert letters and foil the backspace key so their typos/fuckery gets more vision time. (They always let me see the typos and add an associated meaning of their choice as it is typed out, before deletion). Yes, I get fucked over dealing with their fuckover stunts.

Each fuit fly occurence has been "dealt with" by me swiping at it and the fly just "disappears". There is no evidence of a crushed fly in my hand, and I have rarely missed before these assholes made it yet another harassment vector. What usually happens is that the black fuzzy fruit fly then transmutes into a fuzzy black maser that takes on the same flight characteristics as the fly. A high tech swap-over of a fly to a maser ball in near instant time. Again, nothing new, it is just that the assholes haven't treated me to so many of these in one sitting. My lucky day, or more likely, the extra infernal activities of the weekend juvenile harassment crew.

Another morning of front door slamming and "consequent" room shaking; this is the second to last full day of residency in this putative rooming house, and the assholes are full measure for making the most of it. And a longer "shut-in" time has been arranged; the ex and daughter are to come by at 1700h to pick me up for dinner at the Feral Family Gangstalk. And this also represents the last opportunity while I am in this residence location, and no doubt the sickos want to sample me from all family members in town.

I also get situational overhead clunking and creaking; anytime that a unbidden thought comes to mind, the noise starts up. And I am getting plenty of typo sabotage and maser action on the side to call this journal entry done.

The lunch preparations and consumption harassment is done; the usual noisestalkings, and especially so over the frypan being washed and dried. The fruit fly assault is on; one to tantalize me with ineffectual swattings and then it takes a pass right in front of this display to create (read, me being mind-fucked) another swatting in another location for the assholes who set this up. What is with these assholes that they cannot come out of the closet?

More coughing and hacking, then the front door slamming and room shake. I got the white light flashings on the wall, they swept from left of this LCD display to the right side. This minor harassment fuckery is under the cover story of reflections off moving vehicles, but how they would get to this north wall 6' in from the outside wall is yet another mystery.

Some relative peace and quiet for the last hour or so. The odd aircraft noise, and loud mufflered vehicle trailing off "into the distance" (as in simulated sound effects), and just the maser and plasma action. It is almost like being in a small cloud of flies at times, there is so much "extra-conventional" magnetic energies going on.

And I am getting the constant and abiding planted thoughts that the perps are going to cease hostilities imminently. This is routinely applied in advance of all residence moving, and this upcoming move is no exception. I am quite sure this won't be the case, and it is a feint to draw out my logical thinking so the fuckers can replicate it from their remote control room. This fits the pattern much more than any "just because" near-whim to give me a break. There is no regard as to law or humane treatment in this harassment so why would the assholes stop now? The entire city is energized with some kind of beams/waves flitting around, so I don't expect this colossal investment (billions IMHO) to be abated. As I keep telling them via self-talk, it doesn't add up. (And there has been the odd time of conversations of this type, where they can telepathically respond).

An early blog-off, as I am going to Feral Family dinner soon.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Newspaper Modifications

I made a trip to the grocery store, and for the first time in at least 6 weeks they had only one gangstalker per store location I visited instead of two. Though they had their brown colored props again. For about the fifth time in sucession there was a stocking cart with a brown box on it at the chocolate section, and this time they added a male gangstalker whose jacket was a near identical brown to that of the cardboard box.

In going to the store, a 12 minute walk in the city, I was double teamed with two gangstalkers on me early. A white haired woman in a large backpact was ahead of me, paralleling me on Cook St for two blocks and a slim dude in navy blue "arrived" at the Pandora intersection, this being where the perps usually put on stunts, Cook St. and Pandora. The female gangstalker ended up preceding me as I was held up at the traffic lights, and he came up behind me, following me across the intersection. He went W. bound on one street, she went W. bound on the second, and I took the third street to go W. Then after traversing the long side of the block, he ends up ahead of me, and she behind me. This is fucking rude and blatant stalking. These two gangstalker fuckers were paralleling me from one and two blocks away is what it seemed.

Back to the grocery store; I was going to the deli cooler case, but before I got there they had a 4' tall palette load of bread obstructing one aisleway next to the hot cooked chickens. (Think brown color, ( both bread and chickens), the biggest problem color for the perps). As I squeezed through the narrow opening they left for me, the "delivery" fucker of the bread then came up behind me, and I have no idea how he got so close without me spotting him in advance. I suspect I got "blotto-ed" for an instant.

And it "so happened" that there was the other portion of the bread palette load at the deli case, obstructing what I wanted to get to, the guacamole. Then onto the tortillas section where another fucker was loitering, and then onto the soy milk where they pulled a surprise. There was no one liter cartons in any of the three lines of plain soy milk they keep there, only two liter sizes that don't fit in the bar fridge that I have. Instead, they had a 15 carton wide display of one make of mocha, read brown colored, soy milk. Convenient, so the alternative was local organic soy milk in a plastic bottle. I am sure the milk will be fine, but the game was to get me off carton packaged soy milk for the next liter. After that, I should be moved and will be able to use the two liter size. It is fucking absurd I am not allowed to drink the brand and package type of milk that I want.

Then onto the coffee section where a gangstalker was in mid aisle "busy" examining a box wrapped in mylar packaging. The latest technique in gangstalking is to stand in the center of the aisle or sidewalk and feing obliviousness to the passing traffic and that the gangstalker is positioned at a constriction.

While at the checkout, they put on an extra gabby man ahead of me who "needed" a price check on his yellow mustard, and then he "needed" to go with the assistant who was going to perform that service. And it so happened that they allowed me to proceed through the checkout with his items being moved about in the plastic carry bag, and eventually on the conveyor belt following my items.

After this the gangstalker/operative who had hung around at the debit card reade in doing is over-elaborate explaining and excusing. By then the perps had a blonde woman behind me, and three more women in file behind her, all with black long hair. Then the operative arrived back from his "price check" and got into more explaining and thanking, I was allowed to get the fuck out of there. The debit card reader had also been staked out with a stack of black fabric bags next to it, and behind them, a wad of white plastic bags. The cashier also held the debit card reader still, as is the "custom", even though it doesn't move very much. Whenever I pay for goods or otherwise handle money the perps go crazy over gangstalking me. They appear to expect some kind of energetic signature related to financial transactions and have set up many other games like this.

And it was a day for a heavy black colored gangstalk vehicle contingent, effectively replacing the white colored ones as the reference color for the 400 or so that they put on. At times, four black vehicles were clustered around a red or silver grey color, and then a mid-grey vehicle was added into the group. I suspect the perps have cranked up the action as this is my last week of being in this fuckhole location.


I was allowed to read the newspaper when I got back, and this has been a rarity in the past, as they have eliminated the one newspaper I wanted to read, the Globe and Mail. And while reading it, they put on the next door bathroom noises with the first fucker doing extensive sneezing and nose blowing activity. Many other noises were put on, and were the (planted) rationale for "me" to hurry reading. I am not allowed to read the newspaper in the way that I want to.

The perps also lay on the noise when I am about to read over the fold, from a lighted portion to an extra shaded part beneath. And they are playing all kinds of light games in adding extra shadow on the page. They also get a charge out of creating small creases, folds, humps and other like newsprint aberations to serve as the rationale to add more of a unevenly lighted newsprint page. As with the page fold, the noisestalking increases as I am reading the story at the location of all their installed topographical irregularities.

This is the post-teatime period, and today the perps went nuts with two different vacuum cleaners outside my door. One machine followed the other, and I am sure they were looking for "torsional energies" and their noise association, and the fuckers have been extra-active in creating noise today.

And I am sure it was no coincidence that I had chocolate with my tea, and that particular habit/addiction is likely planted as well. The post brown color digestion period has been a high perp activity/noisestalking/plasmastalking event.

I am getting more masers and plasma fields in my central vision; the perps seem to have lost the need for maintaining their cover story of these flitting in and out of my peripherial vision. Most of the time the color is red, though they have been putting plenty of yellows and violet colors up too. They like to "edge enhance" objects down an shaded edge, and when I get close to examine the new color it just disappears. Now I am getting my own chem trails in the hallway, the "air freshener' fuck.

Now, 5 minutes later, is the front door slamming and the "consequent" room shake. One after the other, like frat boys off to class. Except in this case it isn't so innocent; it is all about fuck the "enemy" which is the term they use for their victims it seems. One of my hospital gangstalking operatives called me that once, and another source confirmed that. Given that they don't want my gifts to be used by the recipient, e.g. my daughter, I get the sense they want to remove as many personal associations as possible. My ex-wife called me "you" for the latter 10 years of being married, she wasn't allowed to get personal and call me by my name. And she was in on the harassment then; there a whole lot of clues as to this, but it explains her behavior, borderline nuts when stressed.

The door slamming and room shaking is still going on, and a stereo has been added into the mix; the assholes are timing the shaking and noise to the exact moment of reading specific words even. Now the overhead clunking has arrived, the noise of first order when all else fails. Typo sabotage continues

I am getting the leg torquing torture of last night again; the sickos were running some kind of variable pressure on my forefeet and then als applying knee twisting at the same time. They seemed to be particularly dedicated in applying this when I was reading a review of Olivia Newton John's singing career. It just got cheesier is the quick take on it.

The loud mufflered vehicle noise has been steady this evening, as if this city had no end of them. I am getting plenty of plasma and maser games; there is usually something extraneous (unconventional) in my vision nearly all the time now; call it chronic opto-magnetic energy incursion to be techical.

Another aspect of this opto-magnetic intrusion is the perps "augementing" my LCD display; a web page with white areas will be momentarily filled in with shadows, projections from legitimate linework, ghosting of text in a yellow color and a host of other games that go on ceaselessly. Though at times they also arrange blotchy vision impairments, a like harassment where they plant some kind of layer of scuzz on the lenses of my glasses. Most often there is some kind(s) of aberations that keep swirling and moving about.

Also as a given fuckover stunt is their stretching of the web page to "need" a horizontal scrolling to see all of the page. The perps get endless mileage out of having me move the display 1/4" rightward, or worse yet, moving the display laterally back and forth to read one line of text. This particular jerkaround has gone on for over 2 years, and I rarely get a web page that doesn't need to be repositioned to see all of it. If it is so intrusive to need scrolling right and left to read each line of text, then I don't bother to read any more, as it is too annoying.

A mild zap in the nuts when I scrolled down a page of email. It doesn't take much to excite the small minds that continue this abuse.

Enough for a day; time to call this posted.

Friday, April 27, 2007

Start Coughing Outside My Door

As I get closer to getting out of this putative rooming house, the audacity of the perp incursions increases. The lastest is to have a transiting operative in the hallway begin coughing or throat clearing outside my door, even if it is not a sustained cough (or demonstrated need to cough). This was "happening" yesterday, and is ongoing today. It is timed to occur as I am in deep reading mode, likely when cognition/reading comprehension is allowed, usually after a run-up period of over an hour. It is fucking sick to be harassed and stalked like this all fucking day.

This is the post-meal noisestalk period; at least 10 door slammings and "consequent" room shake in the last five minutes. The operative's exodus again; timed to my activities.

And also, they have been going beserk, even to the point of phone games and spaced out manager feints to perturb my activity at key moments (for them), all the while reading about solar, hydrogen and Stirling engines. Not that I am in any position to act on this "research"/interest, so there must be something about it that serves the perp's interests more than mine. There has been overhead clunking added into the noise mix, and they have some kind of device in the hallway, though it is gone anytime I am there. The noises are the same, and seem to be similar to that of a VCR changing tapes. Key jingling by the operatives continues. As for coughing and hacking onset outside my door, there has been at least seven occurences so far, and this is not even halfway through the day.

But in all of that there is some good news to smooth the moving activities; the house manager indicated that I could stay an extra day or two longer, into May without a rent requirement. That works well as I could move belongings directly from the current place to the new residence location without a 24 hour limbo situation, as normally one must vacate at 1200h on the last day of the month, and can get possesion at 1200h on the first of the month. This problem is now solved, as I can then stay over on April 30 and pack up and move out on May 01.

My in-town brother had all this figured out as he later phoned and asked about moving plans. We had arranged to move me out on April 29, and I would stay at his place until May 01 or 02 and then move in. As it so happens, he is helping his on/off Native Indian girlfriend to move then, and seems ready to assist me on the "new" (to me, not him) May 01 date. It is amazing how this comes together, if one waits for all the red herrings to pass. And my concerns about a May 02 move in date and miss the cablevision installer scheduled for May 02 are also over. As it "turns out", my brother will take May 01 off work and then be availible for the entire day to help out.

I don't know what the perps get from seeding all kinds of contigency and premature plans, but they revel it, and like to foment it each time. And they spend significant effort in getting these hints to me, the most notable being when he evicted one person last month and put on a screaming row outside my door, and one outcome was to learn that tenancy ends at 1200h on the last day of the month. As mentioned above, I can get a 24 hour extension to make moving a direct from here to there situation, in place of an interim move for that time period. It is all too strange, and I will be more than glad to get out of here, and have magnitude of commotion and noise eliminated (I hope).

There has been some quiet for the last 30 minutes or so; another forced pee, and once I got back into my room, the click machine started making its VHS tape cassette-like noises. The rain has come on again, and that dashes the plans I had to go grocery shopping, if only to relieve cabin fever. The perps tend to like planning for late week "shut-in" periods, and to them, it really doesn't matter what kind of abode one lives in.

More noise flurries followed teatime and now this putative rooming house has settled down, saving the plasma and maser activity which is getting more disruptive. I am also getting an-almost chill down, as the temperature is now being regulated downward. Previously there was an overheating situation.

Everything I do is getting noisestalked, and as I type, more typo sabotage. There are 2' long white pencil beams coming off this LCD display as I type, and other more bright point sources, probably masers.

The rains came on when I was hoping to get out, so this must be a planned "shut-in" day; keeping me room bound for the duration, and sucking me into even thinking that I could go out.

The glass bottle bashing act has started up today, only minutes ago. For the most part it was quiescent for the previous week. I suspect noise/sound habituation is an element in all of the perp's noise assaults, and habituated noises are likely heard at a deeper neural level. Now more front door slamming and room shaking to piss me off, especially when it goes on and on, less than a minute interval between one and the next. Another trick is to blow cool air over me as these noises erupt, an augmentation to their fuckery. More combinations and permutations of their noises, as well as the somatic fuckery. That would include jabbing sensations, especially in the nuts, and as I am typing this, they are synchronizing skin jabbing with my arm movements.

My in-town brother was doing something similar early this week; his elbow was resting on a ill-supported table, and as he made is arguements he got into excessive arm movement so that the tabletop wiggled in concert with his speaking. Stupider and stupider, this colossal billion dollar per year operation pissing around and pretending to be not there, and working by proxy with these dumbshits and their feints. Could this be the same secret organization that does drug running on the side?

And as I wrote that I got the a case of the terrible whistler from outside. This too is another dumbshit excercise that has erupted all over town since five years ago, another pathetic cover story.

Another front door crashing and room pounding timed to the very moment I was attributing some past event to a possible perp fuckover. I suspect that most of the door slamming and room shaking is done remotely, as they can simulate a real person as long as I am not looking. It is fucking brutal to have to go through this constant fucking disruption every minute or two. Then get sabotaged in attempting to type this.

More colossal noise of bashing and banging; and while I type this, a sudden voice erupts in the hallway. More room shaking since the above journal entry. Maybe if I went shopping there would be some relief, but that may goad them onto another iteration of fucking noise. I also get and itch to scratch, and as I am beginning to scratch, a noise is set off in this putative rooming house. Fucking sick that anyone should be fucked with like this. These sickos are out of control.

The fuckers scrambled the order of my bookmarks, the nervous system of all my web browsing, and have increased their recall fuckover games. They now fuck my recall so "I" cannot recall how I got to a webpage. And they appear to be doing this to other elements of my short term recall. It is extremely disconcerting to be fucked with in this way. Now the once-per-day extended squeaky of a simulated loose fan belt noise has come to noisestalk me as I type this up.

Another coughing eruption outside my door; this has to be at least the 10th one today, and it is differing coughers no less. Now the fucker breaks out into a dumbshit whistle. A constant barrage of noise tonight, and quite possibly be the handiwork of the weekend crew who seem to be less inhibited in applying their fuckover regimen.

More beeping and cheeping in concert with the infernal leg torquing fuckery. The latter torture is to remotely apply force to rotate my lower leg only and thereby twist the leg so it is felt at the knee, as in pain. For the past hour, more of the usual noise flurry content, but at a lesser intensity thankfully.

While this knee torquing torture continues, the perps have scripted a collection of yobos outside in the adjacent parking lot who are gabbing away. This is my right side human voice source that they deem I need while they fuck with my left leg and knee.

More wall pounding from the hallway; the accidentally on purpose bullshit wore thin about four years ago. Meanwhile, and excess of coughing and hacking has erupted, just as I am typing. Earlier, there was a ersatz "chem trail", air freshener sprayed in the hallway. And more of the forced coughing, adroitly timed to the fuckers outside making extra louder noise in their yakking. Another benefit of being 6 stories up in the new apartment; no crowds milling outside my room, although I am sure there will be other noise assaults and methods that I am not allowed to anticipate. Call it designed naivite; being the blithe dipshit by way of remotely applied mind-control energies.

More street yelling from the collected yobos outside, again timed to having me sneeze or scratching a remotely applied itch. Then ass jabbing into the bargain. Bedtime doesn't come fast enough, and I though I would never say something like that, once being a night owl. And that habit also changed post BOH (Before Overt Harassment).

Time to call this wretched day over and blog off. Hopefull they will let me out and not fuck with my plans and/or appointments tomorrow.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Missed Appointment Fuckover

The perps fucked me out of going to my scheduled doctor's appointment this afternoon, and that precipitated eating humble pie and claiming that I actually did it, not them. The perps are capable of fucking my recall on anything these days, and that was a no brainer. I haven't missed an appointment in this town yet, though they have "failed to show" at least three appointments. Not that I think there is any merit in comparing missed appointments. Missing my appointment is a total jerkaround, and they also pulled this twice in Seattle, to great opportunity to have the clinician rag me over it. I don't miss appointments, and it was these fuckers all the way.

And as soon as "I" realized that the appointment was missed, the noise flurries started up; the faked water in pipes noise began, the overhead aircraft noise became apparent, the "residents" began traversing the hallway as well as jawing away. Hard to call that a coincidence either, as this was timed for when I was having tea and chocolate, that brown substance I like to eat, though my craving for it has been found to be perp managed. There was a time when they turned me totally off chocolate for a week, even to the level that I did not want to smell it.

Anyhow, it was yoga earlier today, and the Thursday class is a whole lot more energetic. There was the usual parade of shiftless males wandering about outside, though in fact they have a cover story. That being a commercial kitchen in the building that provides frozen meals for a good price for low income people (like me). And there was the usual fleets of silver grey and white color vehicles coursing by on the outside residential street as a backdrop to the gangstalkers. And there were at least four U-turns in mid-street outside the yoga classroom. On occasion they would send in two crimson red vehicles in succession. I also got the infernal Harley Davidson motorcycle noise (2 cycle engine) from across the street, and driver was OK'ed to park in a driveway no less. Later, when he came to depart, that was the moment the yoga instructor was assisting (touching) me in getting a yoga pose correct. More coincidences.

And for the one minute commute after yoga to return to my place, they arranged a confluence of eight gangstalkers at this charity donation door, some of whom were gathered around the on-sidewalk presence of an Ikea chair like I once had. Though in fact, given the attention this little feint got, I would not be surprised it was the very same one. They even put on a well dressed casual business man type in a disgusting brown jacket exiting from this putative rooming house as I was coming toward it. (The gangstalker confluence was only 10' behind me). That would be another unlikely scenario, as there are no such "residents" here.

On the way to yoga, again, a whole minute of commute time, they arranged a weirdo to be packing a bundle of fiberglass insulation on his hamper/dolly to take home. I have never seen anything quite so absurd, as bums, and near-bums don't own any property as a rule where such a product could be used.

Today turns out to be a low travel day; only to yoga and back, and that was the limit of my expedition outside. They like to put on these days where I am shuttered in, and in this case, they arrange a constantly changing the field of vehicles around me while contained. Earlier, they had the local WIN charity operation park its commercial truck in mid-street no less, exposing its white and avocado green side panel to my view at the sink counter in this room. In front of it at the legitimate street-side parking was a black SUV, and partially behind the truck on the opposite side of the street was another black SUV. With only a one way lane open, they effectively stacked the three of the vehicles in an alignment, the truck between two black SUV's to be seen from my window. Later, they pulled the latter SUV and reversed the truck and had it park legally beside the sidewalk. While all this was going on, they also had two side by side parked black vehicles in closer in the adjacent parking lot that this room looks out to. The brown truck full of junk outside my room is still in place, and has been left undisturbed for over a week now, very unusual.

The latest game for the perps is to create more internal head noise. There is no actual movement, but they create a crack at my right jaw, as if it were stiff, even though it isn't. This infernal noise goes on while I eat, along with other chewing noises that the perps create. Eating has become very noisy to say the least. And excess swallowing noise goes on all the time as well, and is further reason to be annoyed at this noise incursion.

This is similar to the crack noises they plant at my shoulder, to emulate cracking/creaky joints, a condition I don't have. This stunt has been going on longer, but is fucking annoying. Interestingly. these noises don't occur during yoga where the joints and muscles are tested all the more.

And the perps have been mind-fucking me into doing useless moves, and by extension, disrupting my habits. This includes placement of my hands in places that don't further my activities, waving my hands over top of something in a needless move, etc. I assume these are designed to infuriate me, as this is the outcome, and as mentioned, it is their number one objective, to piss me off. The fuckers have been at this for five years now, and it is getting fucking stupid to be fucked over in the placement of my shoe laces as an example.

I am getting more jabbings today; they start from my clothes usually, as if I had leftover brambles embedded in my clothing. As before, it is usually at an inopportune moment, often when both hands are busy attending to some other stunt.

And I am also being fucked by more of the momentary plasma or maser flashes, usually red, and in my peripherial vision. Occasionally they will park a red colored vehicle outside to emulate the same condition. And for all I know, they may actually project some plasma from the object to enhance the annoyance level.

This morning they placed a long hair on the ledge of the bathtub in the location where I place the shampoo and conditioner bottles. The placement of the hair was such that it sits between the two bottles. This morning, some kind of shimmery metallic energy wave emanated from the hair and travelled vertically for about 12", and between the bottles, before this energy wave, about 3" long, dissapated. It would appear to be some kind of localized magnetic reading they were looking for and wanted to compare the bottles, one on each side.

Now the overhead clunking has arrived to noisestalk me. This is the post-mealtime heightened harassment period, and true to form, they have increased it. I am sure that the brown colored tortillas I eat at each mealtime except breakfast are component of the harassment, as it seems to be all about creating noises to attempt deeper neural energetics mapping. Having me feel like I am under a microscope is all part of the deal as well.

Just before dinner the perps started up their cessation of hostilities games again; planting the notion that they are about to stop their harassment, and using next week's move to be the "reason"/event. As before, (yesterday), I have been through this bullshit for most of the moves over the past five years, and I fully expect they will resume harassment at the new apartment. Packing my belongings into brown cardboard boxes is surely one of the greatest games ever. As the perps appear to have a problem with the color brown, vis a vis me and my particular energetic signature, this is a big opportunity for the assholes to perform more brown testing. Even if an object has been in a brown box there must be some residual brown energies, as they like to test empty boxes as well.

The sooner the move happens, the sooner this bullshit routine will be over. As it turns out, I won't get to move my belongings in earlier, as the previous tenant hasn't even packed. Which suggests that moving will be the extended version; moving out of here April 29 or 30, and then moving in on May 02, my brother willing. This will be my second move without a vehicle, and it is a considerable pain in the ass to be contigent on the script the assholes have devised, usually with letdowns and other games to exact more stress out of the deal.

And it appears this will be a "slow move"; a gradual trickling in of my belongings over a week or so, for the optimum opportunity to measure each object's energetics as it relates to where it came from and how it changes by location. It seems that plastics give the perps plenty of problems, and it appears to related to the cardinality of the object, what orientation it has. Also, the packing and color of the moving box is also a big deal for the perps, and there is nothing better than a move to create more combinations.

The post-mealtime train of operatives slamming the front door of this putative rooming house continues; about one every two minutes. As always, a front door slamming serves as the cover story to shake this room I am in some 20' away, with four intervening rooms. Somehow, the "residents" of those four rooms don't complain, as the noise and vibrations should be worse, being closer to the source. But in fact, it is all a Potemkin Village; arranged and coordinated to seem like a boarding house when the behavior of others is inconsistent with what would be normal. It all about the noise, vibration and pissing me off. Such is my life.

Another long evening is in the making; the noisestalking is still continuing, and the assholes are adding in vision impairments, unconventional Windows behavior, and some kind of plasmic aberations that obscure the LCD display sometimes. That feeling of being under intense examination is continuing, and may well be planted.

Some of the more annoying in-house noises are getting extra noisestalking air time. One such noise is this sudden onset squeaking that might happen in the case of a folding door. In this case the perps dispensed with the cover story and have assigned this noise to that of a "resident's" main door, and of course, have created extra traffic there so there are more frequent instances of this annoying sound. This is the same room that was to be renovated, and it was for a day, and now serves as the putative location for the latest weirdo that gives me the stare. It is also the same door where my out-of-town brother in morphed over form originates from when doing his follow-me act, or alternatively, the plastic bag act (collecting plastic bottles). In the latter case, this act has had its last showing last week, when he appeared on the corners of Cook and North Park St, once when I was outbound for shopping (he at the NE corner), and then again, inbound from the same store visitation (this time at the SE corner). Another improbable event that cannot be explained except by the continued orchestration of these assholes.

Some peace and quiet for the past 40 minutes, but before that there was a sustained noise flurry. More games with vision fucking; they planted some scuzz on my left glasses lens before yoga this morning and used it as the cover for changing the quality and rendition of the light that passed through the lens. And to no surprise, they have been doing this all evening while I bookmark interesting musicians and their albums. The scuzz on my glasses routine is nothing new; I clean them about every five days owing to magical nightime (usually) accretions of scuzz that arrive in order to start this game for later in the day. It is nearly always the left lens, though I clean both at the same time just to remove the possibility of excuses (of slathering the fight lens instead).

Two siren noises went off when I wrote the above paragraph; obviously something exciting for the perps in all of that. This content is getting tedious, so I will blog off for the day.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Beep Stalking

I am getting noisestalked by chirpy merry beepings today; even before I got up it began, and is coming on every 20 minutes or so, often with other noises simultaneously.

It was another freak show at the laundromat today, though this time the emphasis was on bringing in young children, one of whom even hung around me for no apparent reason. At least one of them was permitted to stand on the sorting table I came to use. And my choice of three tables was coerced by way of arranging at least two parties and their laundry to converge on me when I wanted to extract my clothes from the dryer. I even had to get one adult to hand me my soap bottle and my black duffel bag, which translates to more gangstalking by handling my belongings.

As before, there were plenty of masers and plasma beams flitting about at first, and the attendant puts on the thumpy music, for me I assume. As with last week, and as my brother also did yesterday, an operative "arrives" shortly after I did to use a public PC with a CRT display. The perps are planting more of these about, in addition to planting the "giveaway" TV's on my beat, likely for introducing extra magnetic radiation for a short time, usually 20 minutes or so, then they shut it down. This is akin to the cell phoners that like to congregate outside my door in the hallway of this putative rooming house, or else outside in the parking lot. My take on this is that it is localized "vacuum structuring", something I wrote about here.

Another operative arrived after me while I was waiting for the one in front of me to finish up and collect his laundry, all nicely wrapped in translucent plastic bags. Except the one who followed me didn't bother with the pretense of doing laundry; he came in with his wraparound shades on and with a brown plastic covered notepad in hand, as if he were doing an inspection. He did his head spins and then wandered to the back, touched the open glass door on the dryer, paced around some more, and then left. The attendant wasn't any fussed about losing a "customer", as she must of known in advance that an operative would arrive to "sweep" the area immediately following my arrival.

More noise has erupted, and there is a decided intensity to all the perp stunts of late. The latest is:
  • getting me riled up is at least a 5x per day fuckover event,
  • having gangstalkers appear absurd -running on the sidewalk in oxford shoes and casual wear, oversized brown fedora hats,
  • coordinating larger masses of same and similar colored vehicles - a "pod" of five silver grey vehicles mixed with four white colored vehicles,
  • resorting to having children do unconventional things; standing on public use counters in the laudromat today,
  • arranging more ambulatory gangstalker confluences -e.g. today at the laundry, another on the street, etc.
The perps are now fucking with my diction more obviously, having me repeat words many times in single sentence, something they can now fuck with. Before, as in only a few weeks earlier, if I overused the same word my recall would kick in and I would reconstruct and re-edit if need be. Now, I am zombied so all my faculties in composition, always weak owing to learning disabilities, are not there; they have been governed and turned off.

Which is a long way of saying that what you read here is the net result of a whole lot of vexation and harassment, the typo fucking included. About mid-2006 they were able to fuck with my spelling, usually passable, but now, they can turn it off totally, and "I" (read mind controlled me) will now look at a word and not have one clue as to if it is spelled correctly or not. Another never-before event the perps have laid on me.

Yesterday at Tuesday yoga, now degenerating into therapy session, the instructor was on about promotion of competance, and she asked me if I had any areas, even reading would count. I said no, I don't consider my reading to be an area of competance. It was interesting to note that I was not allowed to qualify this as to when reading became fucked with (mid 2006), nor was I allowed to mention the source of such applied fuckery. And it was interesting to note that the instructor did not ask any further details.

I am getting the overhead pounding and stomping as I write this up, and especially when an uncontrolled thought comes through. Time to stop journalling for now.

I made a twenty minute walk to my regular stylist and I got the more intense gangstalking routine again. They must of put on at least 800 vehicles on this thoroughfare that wouldn't have a tenth of the traffic at that time of day (1500 to 1600h), especially downtown bound. But again, three deep metallic red sedans travelling together, sometimes six white colored vehicles, and same for the silver grey vehicles. They are adding more Volvos, sometimes in clusters of two, and are also adding more jaywalking operatives to thread their way through traffic. It is the same old grind in other words; gangstalked everywhere at a higher intensity of late.

The assholes are now scripting oncoming ambulatory gangstalkers to cross paths with me at sidewalk constrictions; where there are signpost and hedge constrictions (sidewalk width) as well as low overhanging branches (vertical), as a number of them have dropped down.

I finished my bookeeping for April, and I was noisestalked and fucked with at every move; "forgetting" stuff I ordinarily don't (categories in Quicken), selecting the wrong window, looking on the wrong line, all the basics of select, copy and paste are being fucked with, especially bookeeping entries. The perps go nuts over this and financial transactions in the stores, and anything related to expeditures, and lesserly, income.

Then it was onto dinner, and again, they are ragging the shit out of me with objects that "slip" from my grasp, crumbs that come from nowhere (even arriving under the dinner plate), interupting the cutting of my food, on and on. It is fucking insane, the amount of harassment over the smallest details of my existence. Even turning a page in a book gets noisestalked with coughing, slamming, room shaking etc. Who would be this depraved to fuck with someone preparing the same food for over 5 years now? And when I complain out loud, they add on more hallway sourced noises, debase my syntax and change my voice. And when I complain in print (now) I get constant typo sabotage.

More coughstalking; some operative fuck walks into this putative rooming house and the first thing he does is let go a momentous cough outside my door, then he fucks off upstairs. And only 30 seconds before that, the assholes forced me to cough for no organic reason. They are pulling more of this stunt, and I get pissed off everytime, yet they won't back off. More Cheers-like chatter is also erupting, all for me to hear for reasons of real time neural energetic tracking IMHO.

The irradiative energy coming off my LCD display has been increasing all this evening and is bringing on plenty of vision transitory impairments. Add the masers in, the fuzzy ball form, and there is plenty of adversity in attempting to read. I also have the overhead clunking and squeaking, and there was something in that was reminiscent of the last building which was constructed of concrete.
At the last building, there was the sound of someone taking a piss in the toilet overhead that would occur anywhere in the apartment. Most of the concrete apartment buildings have identical floor plans, so it is easy to know where the bathroom is. But no, the perps insisted on moving this noise overhead in the living room, bedroom area and even the kitchen. Again, it wasn't anyone doing this, but their ability to project noises as if they are coming from locations that don't fit conventional sources.

I am getting a new round of bullshit planted in my mind, courtesy of the perps. They claim they will cease hostilities when my move happens, next week, May 01 or 02. This game of imminent cessation has been played in my mind for every move I have made since 2003. The notion is total bunkum, they have a huge investment in harassment organization in this city, around me and possibly others. There are masers, plasma beams and other energy waves flitting about me nonstop, and they also occur on top of buildings and in public spaces. There is no way they are going to suddenly relieve me of harassment when every crumb around me is placed with exact care. This is just a note to log this infernal mind-fucking (planted) chatter I get before moving house. If I go back to the August blogs there must be another mention of this.

The merry beeping noise has been continuing on and off all day so far; they don't even pretend it is a cell phone ring, it is another of the "just happens' variety.

A constant hum has joined the noise ranks; it is not the deep hum that shook the last apartment building I was in for 10 to 20 seconds, but an ongoing hum, as if it were a generator on a vessel.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Managed Moving Fuckups

The perps are at it again; fucking over moving in the early going. This time they got the change of address mixed up. (Or fucked me into filling out the form incorrectly, or fucked me into thinking this). They have the new address as the old, and have likely reversed it in the other direction too. There was a reason they wanted me to get onto this early, and this was it. Regular readers will know that the last move was arranged so I had to use my parent's address as a temporary forwarding address until a place became availible. Why do these sick assholes have to fuck every aspect of every move around, every time? Is it not enough that I have moved 11 times in 7 years at their orchestration? When are these sick assholes going to get a fucking life?

I made a run to the gangstalked LD store for a few items, and there were at least two more items I intended to get, but there were at least three gangstalkers at those locations, in the usual "bend over" position. As it was, they are placing blonde (women) gangstalkers (favored demographic) to troll by with a male skinhead/MIB/lard ass (unfavored demographic) right behind them. A tag team of gangstalkers.

Inside the LD store they had three ambulatory gangstalker confluences arranged in a similar pattern; a blonde woman with a male skinhead and a geriatric, then another in the aisles with four more of similar composition, then a final grouping of at least four at the checkout of a wheelchair lard ass, a half wit, a grey haired woman "just hanging about" and a tall MIB who followed me. As I left the building, a teleported seen-before male skinhead arrived on my heels, walked to the threshold, and then reversed out the designated exit. I say this gangstalker was teleported as there were no other persons nearby when I exited, and yet this asshole was right behind me as I left the building.

A new in-store gangstalking trend I noticed is to position the operative at the end of the aisle in advance of me exiting it, and have the fucker smelling some kind of store item, as if evaluating something for its aroma. The assholes have done this at least twice in recent weeks, and it would appear that they are attempting to identify the deeper olefactory neural regions of the operative as I am passing by, and presumably, interacting with their energetics. That I am also changing direction at the end of the aisle would suggest there is a cardinality to the energetics, which is evidenced by the copious amount of vehicular and ambulatory traffic that makes a turn around me, contra-rotational turns (concentric, but in opposite direction), crossing my path etc.

Other ambulatory gangstalkers on the street were the large gutted 50-ish white haired males, often in pairs, seemingly without a day job, more geriatrics, and a few brown skinned races, one being a regular now, on her fifth gangstalking. And I suspect, she maybe the donor of the negro child that accompanies the blonde woman and the Caucasian male gangstalkers that flit up and down the stairs of the building 12' outside my room.

There seems to be a child gangstalking trend of late; small boys typically, aged three to five, though they also spring them out of school if needed. There were two such parties on the bus yesterday, parked on either side of me with their mothers. I don't what the perps are doing to these kids, but one looked totally zombied on the bus yesterday, autistic like, as if in another world. There were also three adult males posted around me as part of this group, so perhaps the perps are attempting to detect "small boy aura" and compare it to "adult male aura", and see what the differences are. This is simply a within gender variant of the perps placing young blonde women with other less favored demographics, and somehow leveraging one to the other. I cannot see why my favorite loathed demographics are anyone else's business, and that I get "treated" to excess (as in bombarded) with those demographics who I don't care to look at. Ditto for colors.

And the fuckers went wild on red ketchup outside today; they dumped an entire bottle's worth on the sidewalk, only 10' from this putative rooming house for me to see when headed for yoga.

The overhead clunking has started up in earnest; this means that any unbidden thoughts or notions get met with a thud, extended creaking or a combination. Often other noises from other sources are introduced "coincidentally".

I am getting the an extended version of the squealing fanbelt act from outside, and in combination, the muffler of this same vehcile is perforated to make it extra loud, and making extra vibrations.

I also see that some kind of latticed crane arm has been placed on the top of nearby three story building, as an active "leftover" from last week's roofing job on the same building. There is no doubt that the crimson red color is also part of the plan, as this continues to be a heavy gangstalking color, and I suspect they want to increase its range of detectibility.

True to predicted form, the perps kept me awake for at least an hour before letting me get to sleep. In doing so, they also treated me to the noise of an operative plunging the toilet in the next door bathroom, when there was no need to do so whatsoever. (This I know from listening to the precursor noise). All part of the ongoing fuckery, including the red flashes as I type this.

I am getting more skin jabbing sensations, often at the usual locations/actions when the noisescape is increased. One is when changing walking direction, either outside or in stores, another is when shifting position of my feet, hands or the rest of me. The perps jab me in the eyes (usually only one at a time), leg or anus. The lastmost is one of their favorite locations and likely goes with their preoccupation with all things brown colored.

I am getting the roomshaking about twice each minute, and it is getting to be a piss off, this noise and disruption. The perps are applying more shake into the mix and are shaking this LCD display as I type.

They are all over me in the hallway and the next door bathroom, and are particularly intrigued when "I" (read, mind-fucked me) am reading about alien abductions. This is similar situation for the victims as there is no one to complain to and exact justice. And there are many technical issues in common; the apparent docility and command of the victims, medical testing and their test of some reknown, anal probes. Funny how that comes up so frequently. No, I have not seen any strange beings, and as far as I know, with a couple of possible exceptions, I have not been abducted. My tormentors are even more elusive than the perps that I deal with, and aren't prepared to reveal themselves after five years of being fucked with every day. Never mind the previous 47 years where they were orchestrating my existence and the constant surveillance.

I am getting noisestalked again; the fuckers are going silly over the sunlight level games that are happening as I type; rapidly changing light levels aren't new, but the fuckers started to strobe this LCD display and make it darker as the light was lighter. Now the front door and room shaking is going to add more noise into the mix.

I also had a thumpy stereo going not long ago; coicidentally, the hard disc drives on this PC stopped thumping, and I assume that the assholes wanted a different thumping frequency than that they have assigned to the two new hard drives that they incurred two months back.

I went to yoga earlier; it is becoming more like a therapy session, and less exercise. Today I had two fat ladies as the other class members, one young, the other old. As usual, there were a number of games to promote touching and assisting, and the plethora of masers and plasma beams flitting about. I also got the "you are a very intelligent person...." line from the instructor, something that I have heard from other parties in this depraved caper, and I really wonder why they tell me this when they already know that I have a learning disability. This theme, which I don't get often thankfully, is highly consistent with other operative/shill insertions, Ms. C of the story being one. I repeat, I have documented learning disabilities since 1960 (city wide testing in Grade 1), re-affirmed in 1962, which have created considerable adversity in most work situations. I don't get it.

A "just stand there" gangstalker woman came later, and athough she said she was looking in, she made a point of crossing my path, and getting in my way when I was exiting in the grounds. She deliberately changed direction to lead in front of me when she was headed for the main house. No sooner was I out the front gate when a brown dressed male gangstalker happened to come on the scene and start following me for the next block. Why are all these fucking men of working age "surfacing" all the time when they are typically at day jobs? There is no end of this population during this time when there were virtually none before.

More infernal games; now the perps are adding darker corners to my LCD display, nothing new, just more blatant. They like to add these after I come back from a forced break to take a pee. The masers are getting annoying as the perps like to sit them exactly over where I am reading. It is fucking rude to be pissed around like this.

I am now getting noisestalked/thoughtstalked by the chirping of a smoke alarm. As before, it has an unerring habit of coming on just when some uncontrolled thoughts surface. In concert, there are small white light plasma dot displays, sometimes in a row and equally spaced.

More house/room slamming and shaking, this time a gust of cool air "magically" came with it, even if my room is 20' away from the front door. The perps have been onto their wind noise games each time I was outside today. This is when the noise, and the sensation of wind whips at my ears when there isn't any anywhere else. The proximate trees and shrubs aren't moving, nothing else is being blowa about, just the air around my head.

I am getting the drumming noise at full volume from the adjacent nightclub. In the past I have been exposed to snippets of this noise/music, but they are giving me a five minute demo of how loud they can play. This is another example of how vibrations are just as important to the perps as noise and smell are. Yesterday my bother made sure to strum a guitar he picked up at a garage sale, even though he has no interest in music whatsoever.

More absurdities; a foghorn noise that is never heard here (too far inland) and simultaneous siren noise. This looks to be a rough week, as it is the last kick at the cat because I will be 6 stories up in a concrete building by mid next week.

I am getting the sudden onset of overhead pounding, something that won't be quite the same in a concrete building next month, post-move. Though I am sure they will want to map the poundings of concrete to that of wood, and given the overall drift of creating more noise, the fuckers will retain many of these excesses in some form.

The latest jerkaround is to pinch me in the nuts, making it out to be related to my underwerar which is not tight. It is simply amazing how much effort these assholes devote to annoying me from a distance. They are truly sick and depraved to operate a billion dollar budget campaign from a closet, unwilling to front for themselves.

I am reading book reviews and bookmarking the ones that look particularly interesting. This is similar to what I do for films and music and accounts for a significant amount of my online time. I see that the perps slipped two book reviews in one percieved book review, and stripped out the bold text and special fonts that would of identified the title of the latter book. This is similar to what they do in misdirecting other reading, by sending me onto the wrong column or page. Nothing new, it is just that being online enables them to change what I am reading before scrolling down.

I just got a chemtrail/air freshener spraying out side my door, and it is the only place it was done. Now the sickos like to make me feel alienated more than usual.

Another crashing door closure and a room shake happened at the exact moment an online picture of a police riot squad about to break in somewhere (from a film). They jumped on the noise and vibration even before the image registered (my image cognition may have been fucked with too).

Time to call this a blog posting, and hope that the above was reasonably coherent.

Monday, April 23, 2007

A Banner Gangstalk Day

I was undertaking moving preparations this morning in concert with my in-town brother who lives a mercurial existence, one between evasion with vagueness and being outright helpful. There is no question his evasion and vagueness factor has gone up by tenfold or more since the perp assholes made themselves overt and have sustained this life trashing fuckery for over five years. As if they hadn't pissed with my life before, and introduced sustained adversity with learning deficiencies (documented since 1960, though not mentioned to me) as well as a fiscally irresponsible wife who wasn't about to declare why her behavior was so inconsistent.

My in-town brother started on the topic of me getting movers again, which is an option, but by the time all the contingencies and issues of moving from two or three locations were sorted out, there was no need to entertain hired movers. Which begs the question, why did he even bring it up (again), when he said only a week ago that there was no need, and that he could supply all the needed help. Just seeding chaos and the possibilities of incurring more expense it would seem. All too weird, but as I have no vehicle, my options are limited.

But it does seem that the moving plans are getting more specific, and that he will aid in "trickling in" my belongings over a period of weeks, with all the essentials being dealt with on May 01. Having an incremental move-in doesn't surprise me from the harassment perspective, as they have whittled me down to one room and a closet, and now want to assay my energetics interactions as "I" build up my belongings in my new residence location.

My brother and I attended to my belongings that are stored in our parents' crawl space this morning, and moved them to his place to consolidate my first move day belongings to one location. Before he arrived, I checked out what was to stay and what was to be moved. To my astonishment, my matress was there, which had been originally stored at his place. I asked him how that happened and he claimed that he had moved it by himself as there wasn't enough storage space. This was total bullshit as it was on top of the boxes, and there was plenty of extra storage space. He was rather evasive in rebutting my contention, and the only explanation was that "someone" wanted the matress to re-join the remainer of the bed furniture, which was stored in the crawl space since August, 2006.

The likely reason for a huge downtown gangstalking event was me having a red colored tape gun and a roll of plastic binding twine in my backpack. These were stored at my parent's place with my belongings in their crawl space and will be needed here before I will be back there. Anyhow, all the freaks and weirds were out gangstalking, and I even got a negro pimp-daddy dude on the bus, which was hilarious, as I have never seen one in this city before, and the last thing they want to be seen doing is taking the city bus, the disparaged "loser cruiser" in some quarters. The negro dude got pulled after 6 minutes of bus transit time, and I reckon the perps are still working on this, in whatever way it relates to the perp's brown color problem and the rest of this infernal harassment. He was about 20' away, and I did not pay him any mind after he got onboard, so there must be something the perps can detect in my neural energetics which causes them to have particular operatives/shills pulled in short order. I noted that two brown dressed males exited the bus at the same stop, one on each side of me. Then another ethnic brown dressed male arrived to replace one of them.

But the perps are bringing in more brown color dressed gangstalkers and are even applying them to the demographics that appear to be unfavored; geriatrics, lard asses, vagrants, etc. It would seem that the prepatory work was to have blondes (a favored demographic) dressed in brown clothing, and now this color advance has progressed. And there are more brown colored vehicles in the vehicular gangstalking mix, but so far, the emphasis is on the ambulatory gangstalkers.

The brown colored pickup truck that has been parked under my window is still here I noticed, which is exceptional in that no other vehicle has been left unattended for so long. Usually 24 hours is the maximum time for leaving any vehicle in this high turnover parking lot, which belongs to the squash club and the nightclub next door. There were three white vehicles with one black vehicle embedded amongst them on the opposite side of the parking lot, some 30' away, and I reckon there must be some more fundamental color and energy assay activity going on. The perps are especially active on Mondays, post stayover at my parents' place. And that my in-town brother came to help out with moving my belongings, and then I helped him move them out at his place is likely further reason for the perps to go silly on energetics assay activity. One wonders how much this is costing them instead of coming out of the closet, and buying my cooperation.

And I am getting the notion that all my reading comprehension is totally taken over, that is, replaced by the perps in their mind control games. "I" was reading the newspaper this morning in the (now) usual "glaze over" mode where so little of it is taken in, and as I tripped on a word that was accorded meaning, (having "glazed over it" earlier in the article), a noisestalking barrage went off; my mother began coughing (no cold or ailment), a vehicle horn sounded, a drive by vehicle was heard etc. All it takes is one measly word that I read and comprehended on my own (it seems), and it brought on all this noisestalking fuckery. There is more silly bullshit entering my thoughts these days, and it must the assholes pumping me with it.

The latest perp fuckover stunt is to send shivers down my back, and then arranged an overly faked coughing jag by one of the nearby "residents" at the same time. There is no reason for any shiver to go down my back as I am plenty warm and I even have a brief window of the sun directly shining on me before it slips behind the adjacent building.

Another jerkaround they are arranging more often, usually when I am occupied in a task, is to jab me in the left calf as if a bramble was poking through my jeans and into my leg. For the record, there are no brambles in my room, and nor have I been wandering in any recently. It is all part of the jerkaround, somatic pain incursions while I am engaged in another activity.

This is end of the window of time where there is direct sunlight upon me, and there are usually plenty of side games and noises going on. Tonight, more vision impairments, those "active" blotches that arrived on my glasses overnight just got worse, a spluttering and choking act started up in the hallway, the crockery bashing act began, the click machine was making extra noise, masers were flitting about, extra farting began, and coincidentally, I was reading the similar tales of another TI who is going through this same fucking harassment. It is as if the perps are looking for a connection between us, while they monitor each of us down to our last neurons. (Yes, they are that invasive).

More continued noisestalking at a dull roar background level, until I typed just that, then the intervening wall between this room and the bathroom got hammered for some reason.

I have been getting a lot of red plasma exposures of late, and this disturbing trend has been augmented with strobing this color at me which is even worse.

While as a front seat passenger in my brother's white van earlier today, I remarked on the unusual numbers of dark metallic red vehicles clustered nearby, and two of them were in file at the first stop sign at a secondary artery. Anyhow, I got in a rant (or more accurately, I was mind-fucked into a rant) over why so many people are wearing red or driving red vehicles or why there was two red blankets in his van, and I said something to the effect that what is it that everyone else knows about me and the color red that I don't know. Anyhow, he clammed right up and didn't want to say anything, and even seemed a little "concerned", as if the memory (the reason) wasn't too pleasant. Of course he didn't mention anything about the other colors of vehicles that frequently travel in clusters, he just pretends it isn't happening. This is just one example of how much genuine conversation I get from nearly everyone; I am doing all the work in putting observations on this pervasive strange phenomenon together, and they just sit there and don't add to it, nor reflect on what I told them before. It is the First Feral Family of morons, aka all suddenly getting "goldfish memory". Though in fact, it is more than family; doctors, caseworkers, supposed friends, etc.

And speaking of morons, it is interesting to note that the US Department of Homeland Security is getting more involved in moronic decisions, the latest which is at this site. This esteemed psychologist, Andrew Feldmar, was refused entry at the US border because he took LSD some 35 years ago as an experiment, and because of it, it looks like he will never be allowed entry unless he goes through extensive hoops at considerable cost. The warning in this news article is that Canada is also applying this same bizarre standard of entry because the US and Canadian authorities are "sharing information". I think it is more like behaving repressively together and in concert.

As one who was turned away at the border because I wanted to clean out my apartment in Seattle, and got the bullshit routine about being "concerned that I would become a ward of the state", and that I should contact the US consulate in Vancouver, I can empathise with Mr. Feldmar. And, like him, I did phone the US consulate for naught, and another jerkaround that went nowhere.

And it so happened that my in-town brother who was to travel with me welched out; he said he would come by aircraft the next day. (Odd that I did not recall this incident when I was with him today). The INS Border Patrol pulled their guns on me when I was inside at the counter, emptied my pockets, gave me a piece of paper I could of had for the asking, put me in handcuffs and took me back to the Canadian side. Anyhow, it was a big charade, and more games to make my moving situation a problem. (I later arranged movers and storage in Seattle over the phone and my parents flew down to supervise it. Then one of my thought-to-be work colleagues "happened by" and offered to help, which he did in retrieving my belongings from Seattle). This news piece is a reminder of that event in 2003, and from here, it seems they had this guy lined up, long in advance. It was not an "random inspection", speaking from experience. Since when did they start googling visitors at border inspections?

A procession of loud mufflered vehicles has been ongoing tonight; one about every five minutes, and for tonight, in the form of likeness to Japanese four cycle motorcycles at high rpm. Other nights it is "tuned" performance mufflers, then perforated mufflers, and then 2 cycle motorcycles (Harley Davidson like).

Today's spectacular vehicular gangstalking was also accompanied by extra noise volume; somehow the perp assholes adjust the volume as I hear it, likely dicking with neural structures in some way. Of course they put on extra "performance" mufflered vehicles to serve as the cover for cranking the volume even higher.

And I will make a call; it will be another Monday night where it will take > two hours to get to sleep. I told my doctor about this Monday only sleeplessness aberation and he didn't say squat. Another wall to talk to as he made plain from the get go.

Sunday, April 22, 2007

Moving Machinations

More possibilities as to the logistics of moving are surfacing; my mother indicated that I could use her vehicle and store belongings in her garage for a day, to avert the last-day-of-the-month-out, and first-day-of-the-month-in split which seems to be developing. That location is where she parks her vehicle normally, and offers a whole new world of energetics interaction; my brown boxes of posessions sitting on the usual parking location of her brown vehicle for a day at least.

Moving house is never pretty, and it seems the likely plan might be to move my belongings of this spartan existence in this putative rooming house first, and then slowly trickle in the remainder of my stored belongings. That way, the sickos can analyse the energetics the contents of this location to that of the new, without major influences of the rest of my belongings stored elsewhere. Given that they have delayed the movers in the past, or created diversions in the form of commercial storage, I wouldn't be surprised that they want a longer layover time for my belongings. They seem to want an incremental approach this time, and it is not too difficult to figure out.

My lunch and clean up activities were of significant interest to the sickos, enough to enrage me at full voice volume just when a operative "happened" to be walking along outside, heading for the end of the blind alley between this building and the one 12' away. As usual, it was a back exposure, and the asshole was in a white hockey sweater with navy blue trim. The perps also went nuts with introducing parked vehicles; it was a full house with at least 12, and now two semi-permanent pickups outside my window on sentry duty. The new one is a flat black, a paint finish that is unavailible from the dealerships.

I have reading about alien abductions and this seems to have furthered noise flurries, and specific noisestalking of specific words, nothing that I can recall. The operatives are herding, and are each doing the same thing in turn; visiting the next door bathroom, putting on more noise, doing nothing in there except flushing the toilet and exiting, and sometimes continuing to exit the house with a front door slamming and a "consequent" room shake.

I don't know why the perps are so fascinated by me reading alien abduction stories, but chances are that they have mind-fucked me into doing this, and then have some kind of data or realtime monitoring of the abductees to be looking for some kind of connection between me, and them. Just an speculative notion, but this replicates the noisestalking that is applied when reading about celebrities and other names in the news.

Earlier the perps put on a whole room hum in a faint backgrond volume level, and were also tracking my keystrokes with an equally faint stereo thumping noise. They very much want to noisestalk my very keystrokes, and delve deeper into what I am understanding at any given fraction of time. It is just fucking tiresome to be tracked like this 24/7.

I am getting besieged with more that usual levels of yellow, orange and red plasma beams in my peripherial vision, and it is annoying to say the least. In past blogs I have remarked on red plasma assaults where my entire visual field is filled with pulsating red images, and it is extremely unsettling. On the other hand, I have passed two medical tests where they flash red lights (EEG?) at one with no problem. Which suggests that the assholes know exactly what they are doing, and are not making any bones about it.

This will conclude today's blog as I am due to be picked up shortly for a Feral Family gangstalking stayover at my parent's place tonight. More vexation, just somewhere else.

Saturday, April 21, 2007

Herding Operatives

It is the serial herd on the move; every minute or two, one tromps through this putative rooming house, slams the front door, and that serves as the cover story for causing this room to be rattled. Never mind that there is four intervening rooms and the front door is 20' distant, no one complains. And, the operatives, if witnessed, will emerge from differing rooms in a rotation of assignment, and seemingly very little to do with authentic occupancy. And there is a background of renewed coughing and hacking, and the fucker came in close to the next door bathroom to then give me more of it with greater loudness. Nothing new in all of that for regular readers.

After I blogged off last night, there was a crowd of at least 12 youthful noisestalkers, ranting, hooting, coughing and keeping up the voice noise from my right side. The minute they departed after midnight, the noises in this putative rooming house (left side) started up again for ten minutes or so. Very curious.

And I read that there is another hostage taking and unfortuneate shooting in Houston, Texas at the NASA complex. A follow-on from the grisly events at Virginia Tech this week. And as I read the name of the gunman in the former instance, I got noisestalked with an overhead clunk. It is amazing how often the perps crank up the noise, plasma, maser and body perturbations (muscle spasming) when there is one of these stories in the news. Not a coincidence by any means, not in a TI's life.

More coughstalking while I read the news, especially if it is "deep read", where I am allowed to be focussed and actually take in information (cognition). And I am also getting overhead clunking to go with this too, sometimes two noises at once. The pattern is not hard to figure out; first they control me to skip-read, not allowing me to delve into any story deeply, and over the course of an hour or so, they relax this level of incursion, put on more thoughtful stories, and by this time an all-quiet order has gone out, save the above mentioned exceptions which are like a bolt from the blue. Even any emotional reactions, even if transitory for a second or two, are noisestalked with a coughing or a clunking.

Meanwhile, they also lay on the forehead numbing torture, which makes it feel as if one's prefrontal cortex, the part behind the forehead, has been numbed out. So much for the brain tissue not feeling sensations. This fuckery is relievable for a minute or two by rubbing my forehead. Then the forehead numbing starts up again. It is fucking sick that I cannot be left alone to read what I want without a contingent of sickos looking over my shoulder and fucking with my cognition at a cellular level.

A continuing all-quiet with the odd selectively introduced noise, along with room shaking. The assholes are also running some kind of extra force pressure on my forefeet, which is also what they do when my shoes are on. Either way, it doesn't add up, and doesn't have a cover story, but in this case, that doesn't matter. I also get selective spasm-ing during the all-quiets; eyelids, shoulder, calves, and thighs. And to make matters more disruptive, they add in skin jabbing, as if a needle were poking me. This morning at breakfast, a jabbing erupted on the outside of my left calf just as I was pouring coffee into my mug. Every detail is under the microscope, and in case the assholes don't get it, I cannot fucking stand living like this. Get the fuck out, my life has been trashed enough. And with that rejoinder, the will continue as the Sickos of the Supremely Thankless Order. Something like that, it needs a better speech cadence.

A communal vehicle door slamming cascade is going on; this is the post-lunch noise flurries, and the flavor today is to have the outside parking lot serve as the source of this standardized noise. Yes, the vehicles are all different models and makes, but the noise that issues forth is standardized, all pretty much the same volume and pitch. How 10 vehicle owners can combine their efforts to close their doors in succession with the same high high level intensity (slamming them) takes serious coordination. We are talking about 30 vehicle door slammings in the last 5 minutes. Go figure; it is all about creating vortex energies from the vibrations and noise IMHO.

And endless procession of noises continues, like a round robin tournament. And of course room shaking goes with it anytime the front door gets slammed. The endless noise continuum, not unlike the omniplasma continuum that T. T. Brown maintained was what we all live in. I read that 50 trillion neutrinos pass through us every second, so if that isn't an ether, or an omniplasma continuum, then I don't know what is. So says this very amateur physicisit (as in Not!), but I have yet to find any real physicists who put this together with ether theories for a new understanding of bridging the disparate worlds of quantum physics and Newtonian (or Einstein's relativity). Anyhow, when one is constant being jerked with by remotely applied forces 24/7, and having items pulled from my grasp and a host of other like incursions, one researches and comes to find that there is a considerable hole in current understandings of physics that no one told me about at my college courses. Water under the bridge to be sure, and this is the ruminations of someone who is witnessing unheard of powers that can be targeted at anyone without their knowlege. A "glitch" or like inopportune technical snafu, especially if it causes all manner of problems downstream, will never again be accorded as random without serious analysis.

There are more interesting determinations as to the Virginia Tech massacre; the police and security authorities were told to "stand down", and not engage in looking for the perpetrator after the first victim was killed. This is very consistent with what happened at the Columbine tragedy, where the SWAT team stayed outside while the shooting was still going on inside. And there a quite a few alternate theories as to how that happened. Here we are again, getting massacres at academic institutions at the beginning or end of the academic year. It is about time someone did some serious research as to the degree of randomness.

Here is the link and quote about the above mentioned Virginia Tech shootings:
Police and EMT workers at Virginia Tech tell us that campus police
were given a federal order to stand down and not pursue killer Cho
Seung-Hui as Monday's bloodshed unfolded.

Though wishing to remain anonymous for obvious reasons, we have
received calls from police and EMT's who tell us that a stand down
order was in place, and this is also confirmed by eyewitness Matt
Kazee, who is a Blacksburg local.

Kazee talked to local EMT's and police who told him the same thing,
that the order was to wait until federal back up arrived before any
action was taken. This explains the complete non-response of the
police in the two hour gap between Cho's first two murders and the
wider rampage [30 more victims] that would follow later that morning.
I got a simultaneous coughstalking and a jab in the nuts as I selected, and pasted the above quote, and at least one noisestalking from the assholes when doing the same for the above link. In light of this, and given that I don't have anything nee to offer, I hope this is my last carping over this topic.

More quiet time with intermittent noisestalking, again, always following a thought that wasn't planted on me.

I just got off the phone with my in-town brother in talking about moving and he put on the pathetic "very busy" routine, when he starts work at 1430h on weekdays. Nothing new there, though no back complaints like he pulled on me one time. Its just that he led me to believe that he would take on the moving, rather than now presenting himself as a bit player.

Then there is his elliptical statements about crashing at his place for a few days, which defies translation as that won't help me move any. As the new apartment is going to be availible on May 01, there is the problematic situation of getting out of one place in April, and then moving to another at least one day later. There is this continual drift to create confusion and contention (angst), and behind it all there is a plan the perps have worked out. Invariably they like items that normally stay together to be split up, and then combined again. The other big joy for the perps is for me to make use of brown boxes, and I have described their total obsession over this color in past blogs, and therefore moving is grand opportunity for them to assay "brown energy", or whatever it is that fascinates them.

One has to decodify what is said, as that is a clue as to the next step. It is just that this upcoming move is constrained by not being able to get the apartment early for moving boxes. Then it is further constrained by my in-town brother welching out on taking a lead role in assisting moving. Nothing new there when I am allowed to recall his past traits, but my recall is now getting so fucked with, its as if I have no cummulative history on certain peoples' behaviors.

Like last night, after I returned from getting a drink of water, the perps increased the intensity of the irradiation coming off my LCD display, almost to the point of not being able to stand it. As if I need sunglasses because it is so bright. Tonight I am almost getting a headache from this intrusion.

Time to call this a posting and blog off, as I am not fit to undertake much editing tonight.

Friday, April 20, 2007

Nothing in Particular; Then a Water Leak

The grey colored "dust bunnies" have arrived again, and now frequent my keyboard, falling into the crevices as I am about to grasp it with my fingers. More of the perp's game, played to infinitesimal levels, and that includes the barrage of plasma and masers that frequent my vision, and usually the locations where I am about to reach or step into.

Meanwhile, in the adjacent parking lot outside my room, a junker of a pickup truck has been parked for three days, colored brown, nothing new in the perps' continuing games over this color proximate to me anywhere I am. Yesterday I got brown colored plasmic phenomenon in front of my LCD display which were emulating colors that were on it. They shimmered with a metallic silver appearance, and were difficult to focus on. Or possibly, my vision focus was fucked with, as this is common now, forcing me to take off my glasses to see text that I was earlier able to read. Anyhow, the perps have not left a vehicle over 24 hours in the adjacent parking lot, and this is a first for duration, color, and proximity to my room. I am sure the heaps of junk, including the base of a wooden chair, also brown, all serve some purpose. The parking lot is for nightclub and squash club staff, and even that cover story has been dispensed with.

It was a Chicken Run earlier; the momentous event of going to the grocery store and buying a hot cooked chicken which then becomes my protien source for the next two weeks. As usual, they had some 10 gangstalkers arrive after me at the checkout, and they added a blonde woman "customer" from the adjacent checkout to hang around too, likely for her appealing aura, or whatever the perps find in planting such individuals in my proximity.

As before, they were all over me, with at least two gangstalkers at each store location I went to, and they even put their stocking cart at the chocolate section again, now three visitations in succession of having a cover story to keep brown cardboard boxes at this location. And they planted a stack of black plastic shopping baskets at the brown tortilla section, no cover story for that one. I got good representation from the wheelchair and geriatric gangstalking demographics, and as with yesterday, they parked one of each at the very same corner they had another demographic yesterday.

Once I got back I de-fatted the chicken and it became a major hassle as the bird broke up, and chicken juice spilled out of the bag. This is like the bad old days when they would fuck me over for every move I would make in doing this task. Then they declared a truce of sorts while I lived here, with no major fuckery. But on the very last time of having a whole cooked chicken in this residence location, the assholes went all out. They disconnected the sink's waste connection, the plumbing, and had all the waste water spill out onto the floor. They delayed this by having a plastic bag "capture" some of the waste water, and this bag of white plastic bags and the waste water was then moved into a black plastic bag to contain it.

Anyhow, it was a significant mess with a large area of carpet that got wet, and it will take at least a day to dry out. This is a carbon copy of the same stunt they pulled on Halloween so my window was open so they could have me hear the firework noise "better". Presently, they have decided to add an electric lawnmower into the noisescape, but no doubt, there will be other games that will go on all day to extenuate their energetics assay fuckery, their current quest. It would seem that the perp's stunt of the last Chicken Run where they splatted a bird on the asphalt road surface didn't pay off. So today, they had an asphalt grinding rig drive slowly by when I was walking back with the chicken and the remainder of the shopping. As for the connection of chicken, birds and asphalt I really don't know, but funny how it keeps re-occuring.

And the noise did start up after I settled into my web surfing state; it was electric lawnmowers and trimmers that augmented this wet floor condition with vnise and vibration. Leaf blowers are common too, but not today so far. There is also increased noisestalking and remotely applied muscle quivering when I access personal blog sites, these being two of the better known ones. There are some odd coincidences I see happening in their lives that seem to be perp directed, though one cannot be certain. It does make me wonder if the perps are looking for a connection between them and me, even if I am reading a public blog site of an individual. The perps also put on this intensified noisestalking and related activity when I am corresponding with other TI's, those who are decidedly monitored and harassed by remote means. And now the clunking overhead has arrived, so this journaling is going to be curtailed for now.

Another noise flurry has started up, and was coincident with reading 10 font bold text, following a read of regular weight font 10 text. These are the kinds of things the perps find exciting, and would never of thought of mentioning this until I found out that the assholes change noisestalking, maser and plasma beams and muscle spasming all over text size and weight. It is as tedious to be under the microscope over this, as it is to mention it.

And I am getting fed up with the increased number of transitory plasma exposures, as most often they are reds and oranges, two colors I prefer not to see flashed in my face. Anytime I blink my eyes I get a red flash, as well as unassociated flashes often to the side of an object or LCD display of the offending colors. I get blue and green flashes from darker recesses as a rule, and I don't find these to be such an annoyance. The perps are also sneaking in more brown colored plasma flashes of late. During their shock and awe barrage when they outed themselves as a factor in my existence, they were able to cause me to physically collapse from a large brown color plasma pulsation. The fuckers even did this to me while I was driving a week later with the same result. And for mentioning that I got someone spraying the hallway with "air freshener", what I have come to call chemtrails on demand. I am sure there is some similarity in the application rationale, but as no one on the outside really knows what the objective is, there is little to do but speculate.

I got fucked over on my income tax again; this time a rebate for which I applied wasn't accepted or was changed, and now I must submit a request for a re-assessment. This is total fucking bullshit that I cannot be left alone to do my own income tax return and not have it fucked with. They also fucked with my return over a month ago by doubling my stated income, owing to a "glitch" that would of been picked up by the software, but something got changed after submission. Never mind their capability to fuck with anything I see, right down to line item, another 2006 advancement the perps have made. And I checked the paper copy, and neither of the "errors" (read, perp changes) were on it. Therefore, the assholes did some post-submission processing on my electronic tax return. Interestingly, the "as submitted" version of my tax return is not viewable, only the summaries. More evidence of good planning in concert with the federal government's online tax and account software.

And just before the online form filling began, the perps hammered the floor overhead, and had me scream at the assholes to end this outrageous harassment. But that wasn't good enough for the sickos, who went a did the same thing again, and "my" (read mind-fucked) response was to yell at them again. Having me scream and rant loudly is still their number one fuckover play, bar none. They actually complied after the second time, but are still at the noisestalking and maser and plasma games.

More idle time spent bookmarking movies for the day I get out of purgatory. I am getting hammered with vision impairments presently and this may be perp code for "log off". One has to interpolate these incursions, though I suspect there is some direct thought plantation, aka telepathy. I had the male banter in the hallway for a time as my background noise, and it is still continuing albeit fainter. Now the plastic bag rustling is outside my door.

And I am getting jabbed in many locations; the outside of my left calf, in the ass, and in the head. Thankfully these are transitory, though they are often coincident with vision impairment, external noise, or even internal head noise (e.g. extra creaking neck). I am also getting something, the hidden gravity push, in my back, as if there is something on the chair's backrest, which there isn't.

More vision assaults, but the perps did want me to have a rare evening teabreak. I suspect their excitement was over the fact that I left a print out on the only availible surface for three hours in the very place where I later placed my tea and chocolate. It seems that the income tax hassle was all about me sending a letter and placing that paper in the specific location mentioned. Of course the noisestalking starts up over placing the letter in the envelope, me sealing it, licking it, and putting on the return address stamp and postage stamp. They get no end of noisestalkable events out of these very basic activities. And they held me off from doing my banking online for two years so they could continue this harassment over these tasks. And they still won't let me pay one bill online, holding out for the snail mail method instead. Fucking absurd that my financial activities has to be monitored and fucked with when it is dead boring. I suspect that today's major gangstalking, blonde-stalking and noisestalking at the checkout also ties in with other payment methods.

It is time to blog off, even if the natterers have arrived outside my room in the adjacent parking lot for the second time tonight, and that the perps continue to create the sensation of uncomfortable shoes, which they are not.