Thursday, May 17, 2007

Back to Back Exercise

Tuesdays and Thursdays are strength training following yoga, and such that there is no point in changing between them, and just stay in my workout clothing.

This is the intervening break of 20 minutes, before I set off walking for 30 minutes to get to strength training, which also includes a treadmill where the perps let me run for 12 minutes and then shut me down, being rendered into a gasping and depleted state, like they did before.

Yoga was its usual maser and plasma show, and the swarm of shiftless males outside as well. And during check-in I got set up as to the definition of "normal", which I clarified that mine is different than anyone else's without getting into any details, and the other male in the class timed his throat clearing moment just then. I am not sure why the perps need to draw that out from me, but obviously it was planned moment.

As always, there is plenty of background noise at yoga, as there is a commerical kitchen next door, and that offers great opportunity for noise to be added into the noisescape, especially when I am all twisted up in a pose. Another ongoing noise is a steady hum, much like my apartment, where it fluctuates some, as if on a cruise ship with a constant generator noise in the background. So no doubt there are some neural mappings they want to make between this location and at yoga, using the common denominator of the hum noise as the constant.

Another stinking row with the perps to stop them from displaying orange colored dots on this page as I compose it. These "hints" are springing from nowhere these days. Orange is definitely the color of focus these days. After completion of today's strength training, my two recreation instructors lead ahead of me out the door, both wearing orange jackets, and the only negro woman of the group was between them. Another game of colors, mixing orange with brown skin.

The perps are having another motorcycle noise moment, they have the motorcycle revving away for no reason, and only after that, does it roar off in a long trail off.

This is dusk onset, and the perps have been busy flashing light into my apartment from the setting sun reflecting off the windows, some of them are movable. And they kept manipulating a number of them, to keep me in more light, and to have more flickering. There appears to be no one moving the windows, and this amount of window movement over many apartments is one more in the improbability column.

I walked to strength training after yoga, and walked back, giving myself even more exercise in the process. Though in fact, it was a humungous vehicular gangstalk event (~500 or more), and the fuckers are even having vehicles troll by me at slow speeds, almost walking speed when there is no other road traffic coordinated. As usual, there were clusters of silver grey vehicles, then clusters of white vehicles, and the piece de resistance, clusters of red colored vehicles. Usually they put the other colors with one of these three, though there are other combinations.

I got severe geriatric gangstalkers when at the OB Rec. Center; this one woman kept pacing back and forth in front of me on a machine, and I got so pissed off that I began the free weights until another lime green shirted gangstalker did his "stand and stare" routine. They even put on geriatric cases in dress clothes, working on machines or weights. I couldn't believe how contrived this was, but it would seem that the fuckers want to test this juxtaposition for whatever reasons. They seem to be constantly engaging me for positive or negative responses, and I wonder if this brain function hasn't been derailed and fucked with as well. I am a whole lot more reactive to their "unfavored" presentations than I ever was, as I did not even notice any reaction when seeing red hairs, white hairs, bald heads, ponytails on men and the rest of it.

The ambulatory gangstalking strategy has changed some; they are putting on clusters of the fuckers, four to eight in a loose group, usually 3 to 5 parties that "happen" to be walking almost together. In this way they occupy the full width of the sidewalk in front of me, and only making room for me to pass by in the last 15' or so. These individuals are of mixed clothing color combinations, and invariably the most vile colored clothing is embedded in the middle of the pack so it is not visible at first glance, and only when I get closer. In one such cluster of six, they had three red heads for example.

I cannot understand why my predilections as to colors, body features, appearance, age, skin color and the rest of it are my business only, but instead are presented to me anytime I am in public in order for some sick gutless assholes to examine the neurological responses from a remote surveillance site. For the most part, I was unaware of these deep seated preferences and prejudices until the perps kept up their presentations in the form of this constant freak show of gangstalkers, and it seems that this entire project is hinging on what I visually like or dislike. It is none of anyone else's business, so why are my native predilections the center of a massive gangstalking and mind control research operation?

A three cascade siren show just ended; this is where one emergency vehicle sounds the siren, and then another follows it by a minute or so later, making for either overlap or an extended siren noise. The assholes also put on the fire department on an "emergency call" earlier today when I was walking back, and lo, if they didn't "show up" again when I was walking past the front of the firehall. An amazing coincidence that, and one of many in any given day.

The big excitement for the perps might be that I didn't have the same food as I nearly always do tonight. Under the "disabled" moniker I get access to low cost precooked frozen meals, and for the first time, I exercised that option. It was spinach pie tonight, and I was disappointed in the amount that I got, and the orange (here we go again) carrots that were plain offensive and tasteless to boot. As mentioned above, there are many more "reactions" to specific colors that the perps put on, and they are on an orange fixation these days.

And I was forced to use the fry pan to heat up the food, having been mind-fucked into throwing out my baking sheet when I moved in, not having used it for some years. I reckon this was not a fluke, as they put on quite a noise offensive when I was cleaning and wiping the fry pan dry afterward.

As this is nearly two hours after my dinner, this might be the right moment in my digestion that the perps need to apply their noise to tease out the color and energetics interactions of eating spinach at dinner. Normally, the only time I eat vegetables is when I have dinner at my parents, and they have left for the UK for three weeks. This might be the meal experimentation equivalent, of introducing new foods at other times of the week.

While eating the spinach pie, the perps flipped the filo pastry pieces all over my plate; they got endless fun in having them jump from under the fork, and hopping them on a "bounce" when the filo pieces fell off. Just another in a long string of juvenility events today, and nothing special except that this was a new food, and therefore, a new food flicking game for them.

I am getting a yawning assault with a jaw clicking noise each time I stiffle the yawn. This is occuring while reading about psychical research and the findings of the many erstwhile researchers. I reckon the perps are all cranked up about psi energies, and for them, determining these is the holy grail; this is why they play this monsterous game of pretend, raping the living shit out of the selected victim's lives 24x7 while pressing on with their illegal agenda. As mentioned before, the perp's preoccupations with colors, my native predilections and any related psi energies is not my problem, so why am I being fucked over at every possible moment?

Earlier, two more of my regular "in-house" gangstalkers "happened by" when I was out walking today. The strange blonde dude with the long hair and the propensity to stand behind the front door while I was opening it was on a seeming plastic bottle collection quest to get the refund money for returning his two plastic bags full to the nearby bottle return depot.

Then the out-of-town brother-like gangstalker "showed up" outside my apartment building, this fucker on his second reprise since I left the putative rooming house May 01. He was the one with no apparent room unlike the blonde male act who had an assigned room to emerge from in his in-hallway gangstalking "coincidences". Any regular readers will know that the odds of running into these same cast of characters from a location more than half a mile away is remote, and yet all but one has "resurfaced" at least once since I moved out. Two of them reprised yesterday as a single party, and two independent "residents" of that location reprised today. Never have I experienced so many "coincidences" of past gangstalkers since all this harassment went overt in 2002.

At the OB Rec Center where I do the strength training there are three women in the admissions area and office which is enclosed by glass. And it is as if being large and overweight was the main criteria for the job. They each are over 200 lbs, and I cannot fathom how anyone working at a fitness center, even at the office, could get so large. The usual dress code for them is for one to be in black, another in red, and the third in brown, all colors of extreme perp interest. Past blogs have mentioned how often the perps put their gangstalkers and other objects behind glass and plexiglass, and this must be a particular experiment with obese women, mixing the color of their clothing with their obesity.

I am having a read from Survival After, a site on the paranormal, and this is a fascinating web site to find linkages to the harassment assholes, but is also a magnet for them to fuck with my vision and reading ability. It is not to be known if the harassment criminals are creating paranormal events as a running joke for themselves to play upon us mortals, or if this is another body of knowledge they want to understand and remotely manipulate.

Anyhow, the forced typos are coming on strong, and it is time to call this a posting for the day.

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