Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Zapped Every Three Seconds

I got zapped in the leg on a regular cycle every three seconds until I screamed at the assholes to stop; then it did. This seemed to accompany the display of a web page with a negro person's image, as related to a news item. Back to the race-based planting of images again, all likely related to the perp's fixation over the color of brown, and all the manifestations of their past traumatization fuckery that they are attempting to unravel at the energetic neurological level.

The perps have me on a short fuse again, and then noisestalk "my" vocalizations all the more. I am not even free to complain about their unconventional body and physical incursions in the manner of my chosing, but instead, it comes from the script, and not even using the grammar I would use. It is fucking insane as to how much I get fucked with at any given moment.

I walked into downtown to the bank and a few errands, and amazingly, there were fewer gangstalkers than the usual hordes swarming up my asshole. And only one operative in front of me at the bank's lineup. Though, it did take awhile to get to a teller, as the current ones were on an extended busy cycle, all those "problem" customers waving their hands about and telling their life stories, and not even 40 y.o.

More of the herd of wandering males are showing up right behind me, out of peripherial vision view. They are not there when I arrive to wait for an intersection crossing light, and yet they "somehow" arrive 2' from me and I don't hear a thing. And they are MIB's, men in black (fleece, for this hikey bikey town). That means the fuckers either teleport in, or else the perps dick with my hearing so they get extra time to be proximate.

Once I was done with the pleasant blonde woman teller at the bank, it was nearly all men's day for the operatives. Even my "aquaintances" from the last residence location, the putative rooming house, "showed up" on the street, entering the downtown mall. I knew they saw me, but they didn't go out of their way to say hello. One of the pair is a "nodding aquaintace", we nod to each other and mumble a hello. The other guy is a stare-at-me operative, and for the most part, they always hung out together.

At the bank lineup the perps put on some plasma action; an 8' violet beam some 6" wide was on display for a second, and the dude with the grey shirt immediately in front of me also got the same colored beam flashed over his back. This suggests that the fuckers were calibrating this operative's grey colored shirt to elsewhere in the building by using the same color of plasma in two locations some 10' apart.

I got a most weird "sales woman" at the vitamin shop; she asks how I am doing as I am on my way to the till, but did not ask if there was anything I needed help with. She was on a stock-taking duty, which is code for "slowly walking (gangstalking) the store with a brown clipboard in hand". That she was in a green teal and purple checked suit didn't pass my notice, the check designs are coming back in anywhere I am. A three way color combination at least; the teal green, purple and brown color, enough to warm a sicko's heart.

Normally the perps go to great pains to make it seem that I am not specially selected for their games, but this wierdness of the saleswoman was in total violation of this usual precept. And more interestingly, "I" (as in mind-fucked me) did not wish to clarify my state of shopping by mentioning that I had just found exactly what I was looking for, the omega 3 fatty acid supplement, the one fronted for by the doctor. (And there was a yellow shirted operative crouching on the floor beside me, just to up the weird factor). It was a collage of weirdness; her, in not fulfilling her role to make sure I was finding what I needed, and me, not elucidating my current shopping state. My take on this episode is that the perps deliberately planted the weirdness, and also managed my "reaction" of weirdness in this episode.

Then onto getting packing tape, and "somehow" forgetting to get file boxes at the same stationary store had to of been a mind-fuck stunt, as it was on my mental list. The perps can apply line item cognitive fuckery, where one does not "see" (cognitively register) an item even when looking at an inclusive written list. This was another 2006 fuckover (mind fuck) capability achievement.

Another new technique is for the perps to "zone me out", even while walking along; an oncoming operative in his white hair and sports jacket was coming straight toward me in a W. direction, and was in front of my building. The next thing I see, is that the fucker had "somehow" turned 90 degrees and was headed S., some 12' from where I last saw him, walking to the building's front door. It is totally incomprehensible to me that I missed this fucker's sudden (and perverse) right angle turn, and he was 12' past it. Any normal walking path from where he was to the building's entrance would of walked SW., angling toward the recessed (from the sidewalk) building entrance.
Not only did I "miss" this fucker's strange trajectory, but also 12' of travelled distance. Anyhow, he made himself to be "visitor" and hung over the intercom board where the key access is. Time without fail, the perps are putting on sentries at the apartment building's front door, some of whom who make no bones about having no legitimate cover while there, as they take off once I enter the building. It seems they need to stand there at the building's key access which is on the intercom panel, and not the door.

The perps have cut down on social distance for all their operatives; they are all getting closer in lineups and at customer counters. I had another sick fucker nearly park up my asshole when getting the packing tape, and this was following the MIG, Man In Green, who was loitering around in the store. Before and after I entered this stationary store, there was a street walking male operative in a brown jacket and a green pack. I have never before encountered the same person coming at me before entering and then when departing from a store, and yet this gangstalk method is happening all the time now.

Note that the colors are in combination, green over brown, where at one time they kept the color combination to a single garment color. This also emulates what my brother was doing two days ago when he was wearing brown over teal blue, the color of my vest, and alternating the appearance of his clothing.

One of yesterday's stunts at the apartment building was to move a white stove in on a dolly just as I exited the elevator at the downstairs lobby. This stove is identical to that in my apartment. This was all the more curious when the manager was grousing last week that he could not get any more owing to an "appliance shortage". This is another example where the fuckers like to move objects in my proximity, especially in odd juxtapositions. It was the same elevator rushing game again; the fuckers come to the elevator door without "considering" those in the elevator who want to get out, constraining my exit. This mass behavior change began over 2.5 years ago, and still continues, no matter what building I am in. It is fucking bizarre, and all it means is that the fuckers cannot get close enough for long enough. This, after setting me up with two operatives as girlfriends for two years when I was in Seattle. Fucking rude.

I am getting ass jabbed again as I review some blog sites. This particular round covers at least 12" of my ass and leg, and is all the more improbable as to the mind planted cover story of being an errant thorn that somehow lodged itself in my jeans.

I noticed last night the perps had the local grocery store repainted on one side, a reflective (if not for the rough plaster surface) silver grey paint with a purple band below. This is at least 80' of wall length, and suggests that the fuckers are adding wall surfaces to their collection of sliver grey or reflective metal colors anywhere I go. Usually only vehicles, stainless steel and aluminum are accorded this honor. And I also see that the perps are putting in new doors at this grocery store; these are an automatically opening full width (entrance and exit both) aluminum framed doors. (Back to silver grey and metallic finishes again). Before, the doors were an anodized black color of normal width for a grocery store and had separate for entrance and exits. Perhaps the number of operatives who continued to enter the exit must of got too embarassing for the sick assholes. It seems like an investment in fuckery for a long time to come.

I found an interesting folk music site with interviews and reviews, and as far as I can tell, this is keeping the perps happy with the noise flurries and associated goings on while I read. My theory is that anytime that I spend more than two minutes on an activity is perp sanctioned, and that is what they want for whatever reason. As I rework the sentances I just wrote, the fuckers are noisestalking me with odd sounds from above, though I have heard them in past apartments where the perps were established in overt harassment. Any noise that has a slow decay, a trailing off, is of extreme interest to them; all the motorcycle noise for instance, at least every two minutes or so.

Yesterday's trip to take my parents to the airport covered some long-ago familiar ground; we had a tea at some tables which "happened" to be the very identical location where I spent an hour contemplating a trip to see a friend, though in fact, he had just outing himself on the phone before that. These were the days of driving pain into my head, and at this location I had a reprieve, so I wasn't inclined to move. At the time I had my luggage behind me, and the gangstalkers seemed to be particularly agitated as time went on, bringing more of the fuckers, and even some I knew from my former work. Then they launched some kind of ker-chunk sounding device on the walls some 15' away, and within a few minutes, the fuckers started up the pain harassment, hastening my moving on.

In hindsight, it seems that the perps wanted me to spend some time on a concrete and stone floor, sitting in one location, as they had me sit in the same place four years later. Which suggests that they had this planned out even then.

I am getting more strange noises from my "neighbors", and the fuckers are stepping up the noise games with more variety of late.

And I see that the perps have added a box on the sidewalk, some 2'x2' and 30" high projecting from the center of a 30' wall section near my apartment building. This has no civic use from what I can see, and while looking at it from across the street a torodial greyish beam came from it and was projected toward me. Usually the perps go to extreme measures to disguise their fuckery in the form of civic improvements and infrastructure, but this is an out-and-out hack. Very strange.

And while downtown the perps had me look toward the horizon at another hotel where a huge quantity of aerials had been arranged, all new to me as I hadn't seen this building for at least a decade, and here was its "new" profile, looking like the mast of a warship.

I am getting my legs numbed out, as if they don't belong to me, and need to reshuffle them every so often, which I am sure is the whole idea behind it. It is a very strange sensation.

Time to blog off, nothing new exception typo fuckarounds getting this last line down.

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