Saturday, May 12, 2007

Left Leg Jabbing

I have been getting the continued jabbing in my left calf as if a thorn was lodged in my jeans at that location. And no, it is too early to pick any blackberries, and I have not been amongst thorny plants. Besides which; no embedded causal thorn can be seen, and my leg is never red from the purported sensation of being jabbed and scratched. It is all remotely designed and applied, and is adroitly applied when I make a step, and my jean's left calf section touches my leg. And curiously, these are applied at high perp interest moments; the usual ones; doing the dishes, opening the door, and a few others that I am not allowed to recall.

Earlier, it was the inaugural Chicken Run for this new residence location, and it has a particular focus as the fuckers only have a two minute on-foot commute by which to exact their color games. I was just out of the front door when the fuckers had three brown dressed women going by or coming at me, one who went on to lead-ahead gangstalking, right to the front door of the grocery store. It was a white haired geriatric case dressed in an atrocious combination of a olive drab fleece vest and brown pants. Though I was wearing my teal blue vest, it is beside my olive drab (sort of) raincoat, and I find I get as many gangstalkers in both colors of late.

I suffered three more bright orange dressed or backpack wearing ambulatory gangstalkers before I got into the grocery store, and was lead-ahead inside gangstalked by the waddling male act. I don't know what it is, but just about half of all males that I see are waddling along, as if packing an extra 40 lbs up front when they aren't. This routine is familiar to me, as the fuckers planted an autistic, or autistic act, as an employee on me for my last year of in-town work before I went to Seattle, and this guy waddled all the time.

My in-store route was planned for me; the blonde women were blocking the olive oil (my supply has had an accelerated draw down for reasons only the perps would know), then the chocolate (none there, only the white (cocoa oil) kind), then the GF bread for which I was skunked again for the fourth time this week, and onto the cheese after bypassing the couple having an extended discussion at the hot chicken display. There were two more "staff" in white enroute to the cheese, one bent over the ubiquitous stocking cart with brown boxes, and another packing a 14" stack of orange cheese against his chest. Then back to the chicken counter where the debating couple act was still there, not even looking at the chicken, and then back to the olive oil section where the perps have my usual variety on the bottom of the display, with an unattended stocking cart with brown boxes on it placed oppositely. I then got a newspaper and then to the checkout where a particularly strange behaving operative was fucking about, almost in the line, then not, then in line ahead of me.

She had this grotesque orange sweater under a white coat, and did not put her few items on the checkout conveyor belt. Nor did she move ahead when her items were being checked out, but stood there, and with the arranged feints and cretin-like act, she draped herself over my hot chicken for at least a whole minute. After more gangstalking from the light yellow jacketed Asian woman who was nearly parked up my asshole, I finally got out of there, and got a bright orange shirted male gangstalker with a white and black do-rag on his head, now the official gangstalker male head adornment.

The I got a woman and two children act bounding about in the building's lobby. The kid with the brown hat on made a special effort to run in front of me while I was headed for the elevator controls, and the woman put on the stare-at-me act for no reason. (When she had no reason to be sitting in the lobby, as there are no apartments sized for families in this building).

One could conclude that brown and orange were the prominent gangstalking colors for the five minute trip to the grocery store and back, but there were also two light yellow wearing fuckers at the checkouts as well, and possibly one of the blondes was also dressed in this color. Anyhow, it was quite a lot to pack into that short time, and they made good use of it.

I also had a static display of vehicle sizing; a deep red metallic painted sedan at a metered parking stall, and a deep red metallic scooter parked immediately in front of it in the next stall (in file). As detailed in past blogs, the perps have some kind of research interest with the scale of everything I see, and this would be such a juxtaposition.

The perps have me on a >9 hours of sleep routine again, so it is back to the bad old days of the last residence location when this became the imposed minumum, save the odd time they kept me awake all night. The napping bullshit might be waived today as there is a Feral Family dinner at my in-town brother's, the guy they couldn't get a hold of only 30 minutes before that. Hard to believe that wasn't arranged, which is where they might of been yesterday, at rehearsals that they engage in beforehand. This I have surmised as the rest of the family always have a mysterious accounting of their time in advance of my out-of-town brother "officially" coming to town, not his likely morph-over games that he was tied to at the last putative rooming house location.

And in conforming to the imposed "normal", I now get people confabbing outside my door in the hallway; the rooming house "neighbor" behavior is being resurrected outside my door again, act by act. And also, the loud stereo again. The fuckers would not let my ear muffs block out the sounds, they came through unattenuated again.

The most pathetic stunt going, which the perps like me to react to, is their bad whistling routine. The "passer by", puts on an terrible whistling imitation. These can "erupt" at the checkout, on the street, on the bus, etc. They cannot get enough high frequency noise on me at all their desired locations it seems, so they have their ambulatory gangstalkers put on this act.

I am being zombied in some way; totally blanked out while I read online book reviews, and while the mouseclick stalking continues. That is, applying noise at the very instant I click my mouse to see a new display. It if fucking tiresome to be under this degree of scrutiny. Now the sirens have started up, and as soon as I noted that, some more clanging noise came on from overhead.

I am back from a Feral Family dinner at my in-town brother's place. In addition it was a "brown on brown" race based test for the perps. The in-town brother has a on-off native Indian girlfriend and she "happened" to be there when I arrived. She also had her three y.o grandaughter with her, and were putzing in the garden for the most part.

The child's mother arrived and so did my out-of-town brother, East Indian wife and two year old daughter with our parents. From what I could tell, this was a crossover of the two parties, before dinner. There was a native Indian woman, an East Indian woman and the remainder Caucasian, our immediate family, mother, father and three boys, me being the TI the rest of the assholes are chasing down and harassing. This meant the brown raced members were with us for dinner for the very first time, and it is mighty curious the perp assholes hadn't arranged this years ago.

And I noted that my out-of-town brother's light metallic brown vehicle was also parked further up the road so it could be seen from the dinner table, specifically by me as a third substantial brown object for the fuckers to reference to. Spatially, it sat between the two brown raced women as viewed from my assigned perch at the dinner table.

It was the usual roast beef dinner, the one he makes all the time, and one that seems to be perp mandated for color and content; everything is plain. My mother was beside me, and frequently blundered into me, the "accidentally on purpose" act which is so fucking tired, Then she began this on the couch afterward.

My neice played with all manner of plastic toys while we had dinner, and made sure there was the noise and the color of the plastic to go with it. She even brought this day-glo stuffed toy for me to see while dining, and then it was in my view from further away, likely as a color reference test. Later, she wrapped it up in a white towel to "put it to bed".

There were various other feints and games of aligning my niece with the native Indian woman, then the two brown race women together, and other combinations. They each played with a bright crimson red 3' long stuffed snake toy, flipping it about for perp red testing I assume. Other perp-helpful games were to have my neice bash away on a child's xylophone for noise and vibration creation, something near and dear to their sick souls.

I took the bus to my in-town brother's place and was promised a drive home. But, it "turned out" there was no room in the vehicle, something they would have figured out, and I was not allowed to point this out to them, but was mind-fucked into accepting the dodge of getting a cab home.

The cab came, and I did my goodbyes, except my out-of-town brother was missing. I went outside, and there both brothers were standing like sentries waiting for me to pass between them, with one red brakelight of the cab brightly illuminated between them. I have seen this before, where two gangstalkers combine to bound the featured object/gangstalker between them, and this was from that same playbook. So as I approached the cab, I moved to the side to foil this alignment, and then they moved in unison to attempt to maintain the lighted brakelight between them. Anyhow, I did my final goodbyes, and took the yellow colored cab back to my place. It was a Ford Escape Hybrid, and I must say, I was impressed that it could be run from electrical power off the line, and seamlessly switch to the gasoline engine almost noiselessly.

Anyhow, I was cast into the headspace of knowing what the most of the game was while it was unfolding, and I got my stare-at-the-freak acts from the cab driver and the woman who departed with her daughter before the dinner began. This is the third visitation of my out-of-town brother and family in four visits where I meet them for the first (and only this time), somewhere else other than my parent's place. I don't know quite what the deal is, but perhaps the perps are devising more difficulty in their setups.

I got fucked out of posting this last night, and here it is, belatedly.

No comments: