Thursday, May 24, 2007

A Busy Day for Exercise

I had my yoga workout, lunch, then a half hour walk to my strength training class for an hour, and then a half hour walk back in the very warm weather. As usual, I had my vehicular gangstalkers all over me in formations and strings of predominantly crimson red, deep metallic red, white, silver grey, black and then a potpourri of dark metallic green, light metallic brown, yellows, blues and whatever else. There were seven deep metallic red vehicles covering all cardinal orientations positioned around me when I exited the recreation center plus a gangstalker wearing crimson red, and crimson red bicycle carrier. Fucking absurd.

I reckon they put the usual 500 to 800 vehicles on me in both directions, plus parked vehicles (not including those at three car dealerships I walked by). I got my near daily (now) redi-mix truck on me, and a few shiny new dumptrucks. The perps even put on one of my favorite sports cars, the Audi TT, in silver grey (a favored color), and it was driven by a blonde woman even. What is not to like in that, albeit fleeting as it drove by, and it was back to the grind of being gangstalked by everyone with their ladder, plastic bags, dog, bald head or other accouterment to the ongoing freakshow in which I play the central character without a script.

I had my usual posse of ambulatory gangstalkers on my ass or around me, probably 50 of them, including the fucking operatives cycling on the sidewalk right beside a bicycle lane on the street. I had at least four motorized wheelchairs in both directions sneaking up on me, then meeting them again at the next traffic control. The perps are using more of these fucking things on me, and nearly all are a deep metallic red color. And there were at least an equal number of these things parked with the putative operator on sentry duty, just sitting there.

I read today that the Decider Man, Pres. GW Bush is saying that the summer is going to be a critical time in Iraq. As past readers might recall, there is a connection between this depraved harassment and war and armed strife that is going on (IMHO). I get noisestalked, phenomenon stalked, and vision impaired anytime I read about war, the current ones, or of the past. Ditto for military stories and law enforcement types. If true, then that means the perps are attempting to take some kind of results from this harassment and apply it to the Iraq War.

Given their travails over colors and how certain ones perturb me if strobocoped at me, I don't think they are going to pull off the transference and application of psi energies in 2007, if this is what it is, from me to those involved in the insurrection. And I am also talking about mind control too, another fuckover scene that I deal with. I sense that the perps are still fucking around with their color games, and it has been over a week since they allowed me to eat vegetables, another problem that they have, in assaying the psi energies of digestion and the food colors. I realize this doesn't all hang together real tightly, but this is what I have come to conclude as part of the objectives of this senseless and thankless life trashing fuckover that the sick and relentless assholes have hung on me. And that doesn't explain the past fuckups and the rest of their past sadistic fuckery, of which I sense they are still attempting to remediate.

I got my swarms of shiftless males in their dumbshit hats that they put on today, in the walk back from after yoga. They had three of their fuckers in blue, and they split apart on the crosswalk for me to walk between them. Another male was strangely walking in the grass boulevard portion, ignoring the extra wide sidewalk, one side being asphalt, the other concrete, note. (Regular readers will know that these road surface substances are of intense interest to the perps, and that includes the age of the surface too.)

And more unabashed sentry duty at the recreation center while doing my strength training; a woman who I hadn't seen before, though similar in build and in her face to the swim club coach we had for six years, hung around like a bad smell while I did my first machine workout, after doing a treadmill run for 13 minutes before that. There were plenty of other machines to use, and there are varied options for the workout, and yet she started on sentry duty just after I got onto the machine, and I was obligated to record my treadmill statistics before I started on the machine workout.

And as part of this, the perps have played her in my mind in recent days, though I have no reason to think about her as she now lives in Alberta and is at least 20 years younger than me, and way too whipsmart to be interested in me and my travelling freakshow. As I wrote the above paragraph, I got some huge noisestalking going, so my supposition, or the planting of the notion by mind-fuckery, about the swim club coach just might be correct.

And the perps confirmed that the out-of-town brother like gangstalker that was constantly on my ass at the last residence location, the putative rooming house, is in fact who I think it is. This fucker has also been gangstalking me around my new place, and that confers that this must be an important and known person (when not morphed over). He never appeared to have a room in the putative rooming house, as he came from a different direction each time.

The way it unfolded today was that this same looking and build gangstalker was on my route when heading out to Strength Training. Except this time he had grey hair, instead of his shoulder length brown hair. As before, he had a ball cap on and was dressed in the lightest tan (brown) color possible. So if this fucker gets his hair color and length changed in a week, and "shows up" again, he must be someone I know well. As his height, build and facial structure is nearly identical to my out-of-town brother, it must be him, the fucking asshole.

As I have intimated before, the coincidence of strength training on the same days of yoga is not a fluke, and the perps like me to work out at both in one day, and reserve the four day interval between Thursday and the following Tuesday as their valued "shut-in" time. This way, they can keep me in the apartment for a few days at a time, and this has been one of their standard practices for over two years now, and is more doable now that I don't have a vehicle.

A few bizzare-isms in the freakshow today; someone with a expensive video camera and tripod was acting as if they were going to film this man dressed in a blue and white ice hockey sweater and full gear, including skates that were unguarded! Yessir, they were walking side by side down the street, one of them dressed in full hockey gear, with helmet, stick, pads and gloves and was trashing the bejesus out of his skates by walking on the blades on a concrete sidewalk. I have no idea what this was meant to accomplish, and cannot recall any deep past adverse reactions to real life hockey players. Plain fucking bizarre.

Another lesser bizzare-ism was a troubador dude in a red shirt with his guitar in hand, walking down the street, and yes, we crossed paths at a constriction in the sidewalk, such that I had to wait for him. There has been an inordinant number of dudes packing guitars in my proximity in the past five years, but in all cases they have been in a case or padded carry bag. My only call on this is that these instruments vibrate, and that is a very desireable outcome to further the perp's energetic activities from their remote hideout. Though for the most part, I have never heard one being played (audible vibration) in all the gangstalking arrangements.

While at the strength training there were two participants, one the instructor, the other a supposed class member (both women), and they were dressed identically; black tights to the mid calf area, and the same colored red shirt. I suppose this could happen, but as I take the view that there are no coincidences in my life, it had its reasons. One was for the instructor to lead the class in the center of the floor exercise room, and her doppelganger was beside me at the perimeter of the room, with two other lugs (male operatives), one in a brown shirt and the other in all navy blue ( a safe color for perp fuckery). I reckon this may have offered color continuity from the instructor and to the woman beside me in the same outfit.

And another combination play of these two women in identical clothing was when they were proximate to me, but with a narrow space between them where I could see outside through the glass. And as it so "happened", a bright reflectance was emanating from a parked vehicle outside, and beaming through this space and onto the left side of my face. I simply moved my position and turned away from this annoying set up, and instead, I was treated to countless red plasma beams coming off the wall, and even some that appeared like retina burns, being very persistant.

Also in the classroom, there are windows at the top, and LCD monitors of the equipment workout area are visible through this glass. At some point the fuckers put on some red flashing on the LCD monitor which I saw through the glass on the mirror in front, and it started to freak me out, so I looked at the floor instead and was immediately calmed.

And the perps pulled a toilet blocking stunt, this time the attributable "cause" was a piece of toilet paper, believe or not. After having no plunger for three weeks and the toilet working fine, the day I get the plunger from storage, the perps pull a toilet blocking over one small piece of toilet paper. It is clear that they have decomposed all the elements of taking a shit and in using a plunger to unblock their doings, and that is is a warmup event for their next stunt, where they will block for real. If it can be predicted, it is not of clinical origin. I am being fucked over in almost every aspect of surviving.

This is the post dinner time, that witching hour of dusk and food digestion, both of intense interest to the perps. And to honor themselves, they have brought on the intense noise of a Harley Davidson type motorcyle, modified in some way for maximum noise. As before, the perps crank this noise up from their projected noise machine, as there are no biker bars or like collections of that crowd within ten miles of here. Odd how they all have this modified bike noise, and that this is the only motorcycle that seems to be in this neighborhood. This all started before dinner, and I assume there are some neural energetics tracking imperatives the perps are working on in realtime. Not my problem, so why am I being fucked over for it?

An evening of web troving, and thankfully off the topic of harassment and all the rest of the goings on. I was going through the best CD's of 2006, and I like Slipcue's taste a whole bunch. But of course it was for a reason related to the perp's imperatives, and I was constantly reminded by way of near continuous vision impairment fuckery, and in concert, the noise of motorcycles, buses and the odd siren cascade. Nothing new in all that; it is the cummulative aggregation, and it wasn't too bad for a change.

No substantive emails still; even those I supply requested information to just go south and send me some unrelated links. I am not allowed a dialog with anyone via email of late. It is all part of the ever increasing constraints, and it is on all fronts, even as to how I bend down, something that seriously rankles me, especially when the fuckers blocked me even knowing that, and had fucked me into the scripted "habits" they had imposed

Time for a blog off, and hope that the harassment isn't too substantive.

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