Tuesday, April 03, 2007

Mondays Are Extended Wakefulness Days

As mentioned before, the perps keep me in bed and wakeful for an extra two hours before they let me go to sleep on Mondays. Instead of "plain head flipping" from side to side, they added more noisescape and other stunts into the mix. The in-house woohoo's, exclamations, grunts, chatting, faux coughing, front door slamming, (my) room shaking and other noises continued for nearly all of the two hours, which made for it ceasing about 0230h. (In bed at 2330h). And they added a 5 gallon container of paint, light brown no less, in the hallway some 10' away.

I even mentioned this to the doctor (was allowed, or controlled to do so in fact), these Monday sleeplessness sessions, to which he said nothing and asked about my theory on why it happens. (The short answer is that they are keeping me active for longer over Mondays, is that I am returning from being at my parents' on Sundays, and there is something they want to correlate between the two locations, and the next day is the optimal timing). My nonclinical event entre, and he didn't remark on its oddity.

Not only that, but the sickos decided to apply the skin-creeping torture, the sensation of something creeping over one's skin. They haven't done this in close to 4.5 years, the time when they kept me awake all night doing this mendacious and vile kind of fuckery, for days on end.

So this also included yelling at the assholes for doing this, shuffling myself to relieve these planted itchings, and then overhead clunking was also added in later, timed to when I was thinking about this, or to whatever defensive actions I was engaging in.

It was laundry time earlier today, and it was the usual freak show and wandering hordes out on the street, color coordinated as always. And an extra commute route traffic level was added in, the N. bound Cook St is not a major commute at 0900h, leading out of town, and originating from a park.

It was the ususal Cheers-like setup at the laundromat, where Goth Girl (the attendant) seems to know everyone and they engage in banter like old friends. For the most part they put a grey-haired tanker in a puffy black down coat (absurd for a sunny and warm day) on laundry and gangstalk duty, and even coming over to the side my laundry was on to plant her vile bright red bag on the work surface counter to face me while I was reading the moribound magazines. As this was only persistent "customer" who was there, it wasn't a big deal, and I was spared the usual pretences of these assholes and their show.

On the way back from the laundromat the wandering hordes of gangstalkers were on the street, and this time they mashed a cartridge of white caulking compound on the street, not far from where they mashed a bird yesterday. This suggests there are some pollutants in me that are in caulking compound. And to think that I applied at least a case (12) of it to this leaky house I got sucked into purchasing with the then wife, a provocateur and quisling.

Further along my return along the Cook St thoroughfare, there was a geriatric woman standing at the street corner some 60' ahead, first in the shade, and then coming out of it, but strangely standing there like a hooker would. This is similar to yesterday's "stand there" act at the crosswalk. Then onward to the location of last week's "lost" local worker, the dude in the yellow shirt and the green apron, making himself to be confused as to which direction he wanted to go, all while keeping an 8" drywall scraper in his hand, also yellow handled with some green on it too. This time, the same dude in the same clothes comes out at a quick pace from one of the specialty stores at the same location some 10' in front of me walking toward me, without any tools in hand. In other words, his act changed from lost drywaller (last week), to store clerk (this week), wearing the same clothes. Fucking bizarre, and even more disturbing is that I wasn't allowed to know this at the time, the perps blanked me out from making this association with his history of last week. A year ago, this wouldn't of happened. I would readily associate the current gangstalker scene with any of their past histories. I never forgot a face, especially the fucking assholes that were and are stalking me. Now, they have fucked me out of situational knowing people I am familiar with. The dentist's receptionist selling me a cell phone in 08-2006 at the LD store was a classic of mind-fuck knowledge purging.

As before, I am wondering who these longer exposure time gangstalkers are under their morphed-over disguises, as many of them have been strong likenesses to family members, in comportment, posture, facial features, etc. Yesterday was another case where the way-cool young executive dude walking down the street smoking a cigarette (a typical gangstalker signature) looked suspiciously like my youngest brother. And when my mother asks about the new faces in this putative rooming house, and "I" totally blank out of even thinking one might be my other brother; it seems that someone must be compartmentizing my thoughts for me. It is this kind of quashed response which lends credence to the theory the morphed-over gangstalker's real identity is someone in the family.

And I am getting more spasming of muscles in my chin, a never-before event that is becoming common. And I am getting extremely pissed that I am being manipulated to this insane degree by gutless assholes that won't front for themselves. Last night's "creepy crawlies" is another example.

And the assholes blanked out my LCD display when I booted up before lunch, which precipitated a useless phone call to the PC techician's lightweight receptionist, as "all technicians are unavailible". Then I rebooted and all was OK again. More sick minded fuckery akin to taking out two hard-drives at once last month. And likely the exercise was to get be cranked up over a $400 bill for another monitor, which was likely a planted notion.

A near same time repeat of being forced to take a crap as yesterday. This time it was without the toilet plunging and the shower hassle thankfully. Taking a shit is a unknown proposition each time. Ten minutes later, a parade of operatives came through in serial fashion to stand in the next door bathroom and flush the toilet after a few minutes. And some get "rowdy" and slam the intervening wall to cause this LCD display to shake as well as the furniture it is sitting on. And it seems that the assholes have put on the third outside gangstalkers in two hours, the supposed coffee klatchers outside my window, and who have increased their speech volume as of today.

The perp assholes have started up another noise flurry, this time adding drummers outside in the adjacent parking lot and an adjunct to overhead pounding, the egressing operatives tromping in the hallway, and the rest of it. The drum thing isn't too whacked out, as there is a seeming drumming group in the night club opposite, and two stories up, and these are the flotsam from that quarter.

It is the usual light level suckdown tonight, where two lights in this room aren't enough to provide decent illumination, a long running complaint going back to the the last residence location.

Tonight's perp game, apart from the usual noisescape and the masers and plasma beams is to cool down my right side, especially my arm, compared to my left side. There seems to be some kind of major problem as to directionality for the perps, and that might be the reason they use a left-hand drive Japanese KAO as a parked gangstalking vehicle outside in the adjacent parking lot so often.

I am getting the aircraft noise now, three "flyovers" in a non airtraffic area at this time of night. This erupted while I was typing a response to the TI, Anthony Brina, author of this book. He is still getting harassed and gangstalked, even if he moved from Ontario to China. And going by how the perps have such a geographical research agenda to their harassment/experimentation, this may fit the perps plans exactly. My brother has made at least one trip to China each year for the past five years or more, so I am sure this is a rich vein for them to keep up their research, even if among quisling family.

Back in the mid 1990's there was a neighbor who went to China twice in three years, which I thought was most odd as she was a bit of a redneck, and had zero cultural sensitivity. I could never figure out why she travelled there of all places, and nowhere else, as she talked about how disgusting the air pollution was in Bejing. Now I see a reason in this, as she was likely involved in the perp's geographical energetics objectives experimentation. Another behavioral mystery solved from the past.

And as I type the above country's name beginning with "C", I got jabbed in the nuts by some kind of perp fuckover method. It never ends, even the air I breathe is intended to be fucked with.

Some bantering males arrived outside my window in the adjacent parking lot, this being right side noise. This putative rooming house has been relatively quiet for the past hour, which is most odd. There seems to be some kind of device in the hallway that makes the same kind of clicks, and the operatives will walk by it and seemingly, made adjustments. They had a click machine in 2 of my last 4 residences, though I never saw the device. I suspect it gets teleported out of my sight when I enter the hallway, and they would have sufficient time even if I tried to bolt to the door unexpectedly, if there is such a genuine qualifier in my constrained life. In the past, if my actions are too hasty for the perps plans, they will have my hand slip off the door knob, and a host of other "mishaps" to delay me if needed.

Time to call this a blog posting, even if some parking lot action is still occuring.

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