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.

No comments: