Monday, May 07, 2007

Zap Happy Perps

I am getting many more zappings of late, very often when I suspect an uncontrolled thought comes to mind, and when I use a term or phrase that has been planted in advance. Usually the zappings aren't to invasive, just a minor reflexive reaction of a limb, arm or leg.

I am back from a Feral Family stayover, and that included driving my mother to Walmart's photo center at the front of the store thankfully. Yesterday, because there was three of us, my mother, father and me, the perps went all out putting on at least six dark metallic red vehicles around me, and moving them in and out of white or silver grey vehicles that were also part of the proximate vehicular gangstalking retinue.

Then when entering Walmart yesterday they put on a UN-like contingent of brown raced ambulatory gangstalkers coursing around us, and then put on a pair of shiftless males on sentry duty, just standing there for no apparent reason. Perhaps they were the bait for me to sneer at, as this behavior is becoming more frequent, which likely means that it is planted into mind by the assholes. Then some bag in reddish brown hair came up behind us while the staff were "busy" (ignoring us) at first, and this woman was wearing the most brightest crimson red fleece jacket that I have seen in the five years of overt harassment. After a whole lot of (deliberate) "miscommunication" by my mother and getting the film turned in for processing, we headed out to yet more rounds of swarming ambulatory gangstalkers in the parking lot.

This morning, it was almost the same, and they even put a fucker on paralleling us entering the exit, while we went in the entrance. In other words, the perps designed the outgoing multi-racial swarm such that one of their operatives could enter the exit through this crowd, and have a clear route through with the doors remaining open.

And what another fluke to have two twin sisters, or like, standing near the counter for no apparent reason, one in that same brilliant crimson red, and the other in a brown camel sweater. They stood together at first, then separated by 6' or so, and then proceeded to depart just ahead of us. The fuckers also put on a woman in a white motorcycle helmet in the Walmart queue; this is fucking absurd that anyone goes around wearing a motorcycle helmet when not on their motorcycle, and this particular idiotic stunt has occured more than once, and only since the fuckers went overt on me.

Then my mother mentioned she needed batteries for the solar garden lights, and that entailed a trek to the far end of Walmart. As it "so happened", we went by a 6' high palette load of chocolate, then in short order, a similar stack of olive oil in gallon containers further along, and then one of the most bizarre occurences of shopping aisle obstruction choreography going. Two shopping carts, three more ambulatory fuckers, and it was like a free for all once the unattended shopping cart had been removed. There were at least five of the fuckers plus us two all arranged and converging at that single aisleway, post-passing by the chocolate and olive oil loads, note . Naturally there were plenty of displays in mid-aisle to aid creating this bizarre confluence of gangstalkers. This was about 1030h or so, and way too early for that many shoppers in one location then.

The fuckers put on a shopping cart and two toothy freakish males bantering near the battery section before I steered my mother out of the side exit of the store. And there were a few more East Indians coursing about and not appearing to shop, just doing the strut, aka blatant gangstalking.

When I got back to my apartment, the assholes were still on the East Indian gangstalker act; they had a "do-rag" wearing male East Indian speaking with a blonde woman in the lobby, which was patently bogus, as who hangs around here? It is the second appearance for this particular act, and with the do-rag both times. The apartment manager also "popped out" from behind the mail boxes, doing his sort-of friendly routine, and yet putting on the act of not recalling my name. We conversed on the phone or met in person at least 15 times and even moved a fridge together last week, and yet he puts on the "barely know me" act.

I departed to go a half block to drop off some items for donations, and when outside I had at least a dozen gangstalkers on me, and one even crossed the road at the same time I did. Then ahead of me the sickos put on a Santa-like vagrant in a bright red coat and a same colored toque. The latter garment was absurd for the warm weather we are having. Then as I walked down the driveway, the red dressed gangstalker also turned in the same direction and paralleled me on the other side of a black steel vertical bar fence.

Then back to the lobby of this apartment block and the "do-rag" East Indian had gone, and the blonde woman in pink was still there, and then bizarrely IMHO, she gets up to go into the elevator with me. Here she was seeming to be waiting for someone to pick her up, but no, she was waiting for me to return from my short half block donation visit, and then get in the elevator with me. And when the elevator arrived, it "so happened" that the manager was in it, and for the six floor travel duration I was between the two of them, and I got out first.

I also noted another perp floor adornment that is quite common; a trail of goo/filth that extends from the elevator through the lobby to the front door. It is as if someone had something leaking from a bag and this trail had dried up, and remained uncleaned. As it "so happens", there is a similar trail of blackish something that hasn't been cleaned up in the yoga classroom. This trail extends from the classroom location where I usually work out (no choice usually, as they are all in ahead of me), to the back corner where the mats are stored. I also had a similar one in my Everett apartment in 1999 and 2000, from the apartment, down two flights of stairs to the outside door and garbage containers.

I suspect this trail is to track me with some kind of color energetic consistency as I walk along it. It is always interesting to note how long these stay persistent for, and that they seem to be "overlooked" before they are cleaned up.

After an afternoon of excessive 2 cycle motorcycle noise, the perps had me take a shit, the second time in this apartment, and the first on the plastic toilet seat instead of the padded one they put in as a "throwaway" item, and have the brown skinned East Indian maintenance worker slave on the toilet to fix the seat, tank valve and the seal last week. Of course he put the old toilet seat in a prominent location for me to "happen" to see it, and invoke some kind of deep traumatization response that goes back to my toilet training days in which the perps intruded and fucked themselves big time, and forever made me wary of anything brown colored.

That wasn't enough of a fuckover apparently as 50 years later in the course of harassing the absolute shit out of my life, they are now attempting to discover the neural correlates of the above traumatization and all its ramifications, which is my theory why they are chasing me all over town with incremental levels of brown colored vehicles (two tone brown especially) and brown dressed ambulatory gangstalkers. Plus, there are plenty of magazine, newspaper, TV and webpage presentations of brown colors that they like to put in my face. One this morning was forcing me to constantly look at this address book of my mother's with happy negro faces on it. I have never glanced at a single item so much when I had so little interest in it. And the notion of removing it did not "occur to me", meaning that the most essential of my defences have been breached my remotely applied mind-control. Just what I needed to hear.

I went to a strength training orientation session earlier today; the above mentioned crimson red force was still out; usually sweaters and jackets, but also matching hats, and often two of them side by side, sometimes with differing reds. This is a day hospital program where I get to lift weights for an hour with some cardio training as part of it. The perps have artfully scheduled it following yoga on Tuesdays and Thursdays, no coincidence that. I don't pay for this, and must keep up some involvement in these activities to keep my subsidy going for this apartment, even though I am more financially constrained as I must pay $100 more per month. And the fuckers keep making me buy chocolate, now in red colored packaging, replacing the better quality Villar's chocolate in an off white colored box. As mentioned before, I have had short periods where the fuckers have turned me totally off chocolate, to the level of not even liking its smell. As I see it, the entire chocolate "infatuation" is created by the remotely applied mind-control energies as the fuckers piss around attempting to undo the brown color adversity damage they inflicted on me, per above.

And the fuckers were all over me in the grocery store; they plated a couple at the cooler case who loitered there extensively, and finally had moved some when I made my last pass, then as I was approaching the cooler case they split apart leaving only room to go between the fuckers. This is the "split couple" gangstalk routine, and I know it well. Normally they don't obstruct my in-store destinations, (but usually post someone nearby), but this time the two gangstalkers lingered there and didn't pick anything up. The male member also put on the open mouth act, one of the most consistent moves that the ambulatory gangstalkers make in my proximity. Other variations are yawning, sneezing, coughing and eating food.

The couple didn't look too cohesive, and I see plenty of ersatz or otherwise improbable pairings in the ambulatory gangstalking panoply. Last week they put on an older semi-vagrant Caucasian male with a middle aged negro woman, one of the more ridiculous pairs I have seen in this city. In the case of the above gangstalking couple today, she was Caucasian, blonde and dressed in a mid-grey outfit, while he was a grey haired Caucasian, and might have been a slight morph-over of one of the regular male operatives that I have seen at least 10 times in all manner of circumstances, even following me into the optometrist's working area once. Past blogs have detailed the predominance of younger blonde women gangstalkers and how the perps appear to be hitching the many unpleasant demographics to the blonde woman's aura, or whatever it is that the perps are measuring.

And ditto at the checkout; and young blonde woman, almost like Paris Hilton, helping out the black curly haired woman on the till. Another of my unfavored demographics is that I do not like tightly curled hair; I don't know why, but I suspect the party that constantly plants this in my visual field knows all about it, and may have created this "problem" for themselves some time ago, back in the days of early childhood development, a la brown color problem (per above).

The perps put on their operatives doing the Amnesty International gig again, outside both entrances to the grocery store. These fuckers were in yellow shirts, another "red rag" to a bull (me), and they had these white color plastic binders with slip in sheets of paper on the front, also white. So they get a white plastic exposure, and a white paper behind clear plastic exposure for me to see, and react with in some energetic way, their quantitification objective. As it so happens, many TI's have gone to Amnesty International in the expectation that they would take up their cause, but to no avail. They are adamant about not wanting to know about remotely applied harassment and gangstalking, which suggests their organization is not all what it seems.

Anyhow, these operatives promoting Amnesty International also had on the mohawk and other weird haircuts and were well studded with silver pins and rings on their lips and face. Another viscerally loathsome demographic to me, facial mutilation. Though, I suspect the metal studs and rings are perfect objects to remotely read energies from, and all the better if it stuck through the cheek.

The motorized wheelchairs were out in force today as well, yet another unfavored demographic that got plenty of airtime in the ambulatory gangstalking games today. I must of seen at least twenty of them, and they were all the motorized ones. Again, I don't know why exactly I don't like these things, but the assholes put plenty of them for me to see, and it nearly always it is the deep red metallic finish painted variety.

The perps were also up to forcing me off the sidewalk today, they did this at least four times, in various guises. The most blatant was this two couple foursome walking on the sidewalk ahead of me, and who then stopped to natter, and then two of them found something on the sidewalk "of interest" and did their lean-overs and crouch downs, and when they stood up again, they looked at me 20' away, and then started ambling ahead of me. There was nothing on the sidewalk to look at save the yellow paint markings, and when it came time to pass these assholes, who almost seemed to be lost, I was obliged to step onto the asphalt bicycle lane to pass them. This fucking act repeated for other sidewalk doddering gangstalkers, and after two 30 minute trips, I was fed up with this beligerent fuckery.

I also got a few plasma spatterings in my vision; at the hospital elevator the duct tape on the door gave off some annoying dark green emanations, and later, the perps planted a violet horizontal bar, 12" x 1" over the mouth of a woman that had been walking toward me some 15' away, and was turning 90 degrees to go down a side street. This band of plasma was kept plastered exactly where I expected her mouth to be, and it seemed to be placed between us, even as we were each in motion.

I just finished up a scorcher of an email; the perps got me cranked up over being fucked with, more pithy than is usual for these blogs. As always, I take note of the coincident environmental "modifications", aka noisestalking, thoughtstalking and other phenomenon, when they wind me up, and this time it was clunking from nearby "neighbors" and very bright reflections of the setting West sun off the towers in my view, and said reflections have an amazing habit of beaming right into my apartment while the perps had be emotionally riled up in responding to an email, one suggesting that there will be peace, love and happiness at the end of this endless loop of an utterly fucked with existence that is of extreme interest to the most depraved and institutionally warped assholes this planet has ever suffered.

Here it is with the instigating preamble that "started it", though in fact I suspect I was being mind-fucked into it, and there was plenty of noisestalking also going on at the same time.

The email topic was Vera, and how after a compelling story of extreme duress, she "appeared" (my dubiousness showing through yet again) to have found peace. My repondent says this:

Vera seems to have found peace in her previously troubled life and she is grateful. I hope you can arrive at a place, unique for you, that is equally peaceful.
And I am mindfucked into unloading on this person by writing this scorching email, all of which I believe, and it is not overstated:

It is not clear how she found this "peace" or in what form it takes. It leaves a huge hole as to how she is living her life.

Without the supporting details, it doesn't offer me any solace. My perspective is wuite different; anyone who has been involved in my harassment is an utter fucking sick-minded asshole, and that includes all of my family and their gangstalking routine.

In other words, I don't expect to find any nirvana, not until I get straight answers as to why I have been fucked with for five years, 24/7, and am free from any of the apparent mind-controlling energies that are being applied to me. I see plasma and maser beams all the time, and I am constantly enveloped in a magnetic field which I have measured with an industrial grade Gaussmeter.

There is constantly applied noise that is far and above at higher levels than normal, and it is nearly always coincident with my recall and thoughts as to what is going on and by who for what reason. I call this either noisestalking or thoughtstalking, and remain totally enraged that I have been singled out, stripped of my civil rights and run out of a job, subsisting and doing nothing but being a more convenient target for the assholes who have appeared to started this since birth. And, IMHO, who are resolutely thankless in fucking me covertly for 47 years, and then have the temerity to turn on this elevated overt harassment for five years running. I cannot go anywhere in public and not be constantly stalked.

I don't care what the perpetrator's objectives are beyond total mind-control, which has been evident by progressively interferring with my faculties, the last most being my recall over 2006. Absolutely nothing would ever justify this specious and depraved assault, harassment and deprivation of liberties that everyone else enjoys while they circulate around me in color coordinated order (vehicles and in person).

No, I expect to have no comforts now, or in the event of cessation of this harassment as long as my recall and faculties have not been fucked with or otherwise modified. That, I have been clear about since the outset; who could be this fucking sick to engage in and sustain this degree of organizational depravity against one innocent citizen who has done nothing whatsoever to incurr this?

Anyhow, that's where I am coming from anytime a short precis is needed to address the true nature of this abominable affront to human dignity.

I intended no personal emnity, and of course "I forgot" to mention that in the letter, so let me say it here. Needless to say, I don't think that he will be replying anytime soon, and I don't blame him either. There is simply a large degree of intensity mismatch here, and my issues are way to deep and fraught to expect any non-TI to appreciate.

And to further elaborate, when one cannot spell or type simple words, cannot read and correctly percieve thoughts, cannot recall simple personal facts of one's own history, cannot say all that is in mind (or even to have all relevant facts come to mind) and when one cannot take a shit or piss, or perform any other very simple act, without it being dithered, fucked with, all or part of the time, by remotely applied energies that are situationally applied every waking moment of one's life, then matters get very intense and stay that way all the time, assuming even one's full range of emotion is not governed down by these pernicious mind invasive barbarians.

More scorching, it is that kind of night, and very it is very likely that I have been mind-fucked into enjoining in this caustic diatribe. Hopefully it is accurate, and pithy on later reflection.

Some mellow-out time followed, though duly noisestalked with amplified street noise, in-house clunking, and the backbeat floor whacking noise, for lack of a better name. This identical noise has occured in all apartments that I have lived in with upstairs "neighbors". That statement covers four buildings in two cities in five years; it is simply amazing that I get the same neighbors overhead in each location making the same strange characteristic noise. Fucking amazing; someone dare to tell me I am not being stalked, as I am on a roll tonight.

I also got "phenomenon stalked"; masers, plasma beams, vision impairments, gentle shirt pullings, shoes tightening up, mouth dryings, mild zappings, unconventional Windows behavior etc. The perps especially liked me to be reading about poor Paris Hilton, though to be fair, I really don't follow her much, but I am most intrigued by a comment I heard on the TV, when I had it in 2004 and early 2005. Someone remarked about an earlier Paris Hilton interview that Paris should have her driver's licence taken away because she appeared to be so stupid that she would endanger the public. Now it is 2007, and she did have her driver's licence suspended and disregarded the suspension and pleaded ignorance . Most would ascribe that sequence of events to "synchronicity" or something like that. But where I come from, in having every last detail of my existence orchestrated, and where there are no true coincidences, I am inclined to believe that it was, yet again, perp managed. Who knows for sure, but there are far too many "coincidences" going on in my life, and that is one more.

Time to blog off, and call this a day.

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