Friday, April 06, 2007

Good Bad Friday

1150h
The overhead pounding has arrived again, and is now jumping on any of the typo repairs that I make. Or more accurately, that I am mind-fucked into making. Stumbling on the most common words of the English language after 35 years of typing just didn't happen before.

1240h
Last night, after blogging off, the male banterers arrived for another round outside my window for their "chatting" in the dark end of the parking lot. This was no doubt linked in with discovering that the perps pulled a shit leakage stunt in my underwear, now becoming a regularity of at least once per week. This was ameliorated by taking a shower after taking a scripted crap, and they have been very consistent in having me take a shower just before I go to bed, something I wouldn't do ordinarily. The while changing my underwear, they wobbled me while I was on one foot, and sent me crashing into the furniture, and shaking it in the process. Causing vibrations, often with noise, is the main method of furthering their fuckery. All considered, it is fucking sick and depraved that I am not allowed to do anything without potential of being fucked with, which includes recovering from their myriad stunts.

The overhead pounding arrived about a half hour before lunch (per above), and then stopped immediately afterward. Similarly, this morning, it arrived before breakfast and then ended. My pre-meal jerkaround is becoming more consistent, though that won't change any doctor's opinion anytime soon.

Apart from the brown crumb inudations which are increasing, the assholes have decided that isn't enough intrusion, so they developed an relatively new one; applying a chalk-like substance to where they deem useful, and that includes the top of the white bar fridge which I use as a food preparation surface. These have previously shown up on my counter and on my jeans.

And for the continuation of all intrusions trivial, the perps have increased their "drop-hop" games; this is where a micro-droplet of liquid "erupts" from the surface while the containing vessel is being filled, or when there is sufficient cover story from other water and liquid handling. When filling the sink for doing the dishes, these sub-pinhead sized drops will fly 2 or more feet laterally, usually diagonal to me, from sink to floor. Today, while filling the coffee mug from the pot, they arranged for a new "drop-hop" source from the mug, at about half full no less. In other words, there is a move to make the unreal more unreal in the service of some kind of remotely controlled energetics assay program. As always, the question is; why don't they cut a deal instead of this exceptionally elaborate micro-managed fuckery that goes on every waking second (and into my sleep if my consistently arranged hair is any guide)? The short answer is that I don't know, but there must be a considerable payoff they are expecting to attain. I have rambled on in the past about universal life energies as a vaguely more specific goal, though this isn't much more of an answer.

When one adds up all the resources, and the energization of this entire city as it appears, and no end gangstalk bench strength, this equals only one determination; they are not going to desist anytime soon.

Now the rock music from another "resident" in this putative rooming house has been cranked up, and it serves as the cover story to vibrate both feet at the same time, noise (music and chatting "residents") included into the harassment mix of course.

And, the electronic popping in my right ear is being played more often, usually when I am swearing at the assholes for pulling yet another stunt. This is a simulated jaw pop, though I have never had any jaw joint problems in the past, let alone while speaking. All to create more noise while my mouth is open, which is a variant of the gangstalker's ploy of having their tongue hanging out or otherwise exposing their mouth contents. Spitting in public is still playing big, as is "open-mouthing", maintaining this as the gangstalker's "normal" comportment.

04-07-2007
As this has been a very foul day from the harassment perspective, I will blog off and start a new posting to detail the vituperative villany that has been administered by the sickos this Easter weekend. It is fucking sick, and they won't come out from the closet and front for the problems they created, fomented and sustained in the course of the past lifetime (mine) of covert energetics assay fuckery. I am the most fucking pissed that I have ever been, and if I am left to be uncontrolled, and some sicko finally fesses up in my presence, I cannot guarantee the outcome. See the next blog posting.

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