Saturday, June 30, 2007

Bring On the Plasma

I am getting more plasma energy displays today, and no doubt that it is because of being in a significant magnetic field, something I once measured with an industrial quality gaussmeter.

I cannot look at anything, even the horizon, without seeing ghosted images, colored speckle, beams arcing in my view and the rest of it. Then there are the constant masers, as if I am swimming in some kind of gel, as these filamentous greyish black vertical lines move ever so slowly together.

My shopping trip got the usual freakshow turnout, even if a 5 minute exercise; two adults flicking their coats at each other at the entrance to the grocery store, then a operative in a red kilt with a red color backpacking cyclist weaving between the kilt act and myself on the crosswalk, and so it goes.

I also got two operatives meeting me (aka gangstalking) me at the elevator and the first floor lobby; it is the same act again, and it is getting tiresome to say the least. And they even lay on the smile, as if were are happy neighbors, which is not the case from my perspective. Given the ongoing behavioral weirdness of the elevator and lobby gangstalking operatives, I am beginning to suspect that I am the only true tenant in this building, in all 14 floors of it, some 10 or so apartments per floor. My reasoning is that this place is absolutely cooking with the irradiative emanations the perps are plying this place with (e.g. foggy plasma hallways), and it is not safe for regular folk to be in this building. This was the case at the last three buildings where I lived. There was a substantive diminution of neighbor activity. Only operatives were showing up in the hallways and in the elevator to cover the more important areas (to them).

Now I am getting the overhead thudding, as if from stereo music, which it isn't, serving as the backdrop for all the other noises from outside, including that fabulous bus service, which is more frequent on a Saturday than a weekday. Same when I go to bed, the bus service increases no matter what time. Which is another way of saying that these are introduced sounds, as anytime I check, there is at least an 80% chance there is actually any source, e.g. a live bus. In other words, these all come from the perp's noise machine, and they can project these sounds to come from anywhere and to sound like the real thing. For the first two years of harassment I could tell the projected sounds from the real ones because there was a metallic ring to these faked sounds. Somehow, the perps were able to defeat my hearing, or otherwise so-opt it, as I cannot tell genuine noise sources from the projected sound. And too, all the street noise has been amplified, as I am six stories up, and the street noise is only slightly less than at the street.

I am being kept on an email drought of late; only spammers are coming through, and even when I delete their email I get noisestalked, and also jabbed in the nuts or the ass at the same time.

I am getting the more painful right foot burning sensation; it is as if a laser is being directed to create this pain sensation in mid-foot, not on the skin. Generally these games are timed to thoughts that the perps don't seem to control, though I don't know why they resort to this and instead use their alternative, the maser strike to the nose or lip. In the latter case, these particular maser strikes were once very annoying as they went on all day and were designed to make me screaming mad, which they did. Once the perps finished that baseline, all the aggravation was ended, and now it is a inconsequent soft strike on my lip or nose.

The vision impairments are also getting more frequent; it was once a end of the day phenomenon, but now it is all the time, especially on these shut-in days. As per above, I was allowed out to go shopping and getting the weekend newspaper, and see the freakshow that was arranged for me.

And it is not difficult to determine who is in charge of my camera when I take it, which I did. "Somehow" the notion of taking a picture of the coat flicking nutters cum operatives "did not occur to me", and hence no photograph.

This is a long weekend, given that it is the US July 4 equivalent, on July 1, which will be Monday. These distictions of holidays and weekdays rarely make any difference in that I don't work, and have endless amounts of time on my hands, and one day blends into another. Only my activities on Tuesdays and Thursdays serve to give me some kind of appointment and activity. I am sure this notion of weekday and weekend day blurring is familiar to anyone who is retired, or suddenly finds themselves out of the work sphere, however that happens.

I am getting another brain assault in the form of making me very floaty with some kind of generalized cranial pressure that is also part of the fuckery. It is very disconcerting to feel intense discomfort and not know of its cause. It is debilitating to say the least, and all one can do is yell at they assholes, and usually they will relent, though not always. I suspect they are whacking at my temporal lobes, and when these brain regions are impaired one gets the floating sensations and cannot also control rage and annoyance. In the latter case, the perps are supplying/controlling my hotheaded reactions, even making it worse than if I was running my own brain. I get instant relief if I rub my forehead and then my hair, changing my energetic signature by changing my hand and skin oil distribution. Another relief is to place myself next to a chunk or steel or iron, and that also begets relief for a short few seconds. In the least it tells me that the "problem" is remotely invoked, and not of organic origin.

And I also had some ginger beer after my meal, and I am sure this has to do with brown color testing, especially related to my post-meal stomach contents. And when I went into the kitchen to clean the drinking glass, the perps put on this 3' ball of apple green plasma that was highly annoying, and most strangely, it lasted for over 5 seconds, sitting there and pulsating with this color. Then the perps supplied me with the idea to turn on the flourescent light to get rid of it, and it was surely abated by this "method". The trouble was that they then shone violet plasma off the adjacent dinner plates in the dishes rack. No winning for losing, at anything.

And while typing this up, I got a white stroboscopic flash on me, and then it retreated to the deck and strobed there, having me look through the safety glass, something that is a big deal for the assholes.

I am still getting the "floaties" and the generalized uneasy sensations, and I supect that my persecutors have taken the slow route instead of hammering me with these debilitating energies in their search of the neural correlates of bookmarking web pages. That activity just fascinates the perps, and I would not be surprised if "I" (in the collective mind-controlled sense) have bookmarked over 100,000 web sites in this cause of theirs. And sometimes it does get absurd; I have over 1,000 books at bookmarked, and at least ten times that in movies I would like to see someday if I ever get out of purgatory, have money and the time. I cannot count on any aspect of my existence being the same, only this ongoing mental trudging while being the poster boy for nonconsensual human experimentation and sadistic harassment. All to serve some purpose for which the perpetrators won't divulge or declare their objectives, as mere 100% mind-control isn't enough.

The current mind-control research area seems to be the brain stem area, as I will often get a maser strike in my throat, above my Adam's apple. The testing that they currently engage is to elicit my recall as to textures, size and appearence of objects. The perps are also intrigued as to how I recall favorite tunes of the long past, and the knowledge that I am being harassed and mind controlled by rampant sickos by remote means.

And for that, they started up the noise again, replicating the goings on of the last two residence locations in this one. Funny how all my neighbors engage in the same idiotic water usage and other games.

I am getting hammered again with transitory vision impairments so it is time to call this one done, even if I haven't had the chance to review and edit.

Friday, June 29, 2007

Fuzzy Black Balls in My Vision

I got two pictures of red vehicles being arranged from the photographs; this should back up my observations on this color of vehicle being planted proximate to me anywhere I go, and even outside my apartment. There are four per frame, photographed on public streets, and not arranged by me. I wonder what the benefit the perps are getting in allowing me to publish these, as they obstruct me all the time should I venture into revealing their methods.

I am getting myriad masers, the zinger kind, aka, the fuzzy black balls that flit around in my vision this morning. And as I start this blog for the day, I am getting a right arm pain, keeping it relatively immobile.

The noisescape has been active, and then lapsed into inactivity at times this morning. And my ambitions to go into town, all of two blocks, to the ATM got dashed, and I have schlepped in front of the PC all morning.

Some more of yesterday's word/term repetition comes to mind: while at the strength training group floor exercise session, they often introduce it as "torture" session. This "t" word has got a huge amount of airplay in the last few years from the news on various fronts such as Abu Graib, Guantanamo Bay and the so-called "rendition" flights. And I have no idea as to why this word is getting featured (aka, a "trigger word") so often, though it seems that any and all associations that I have with it are up for scrutiny and monitoring by the perp gangs. Even now, as I key this in, the maser zingers are flitting about in formation pairs or triplets, and the 2 cycle motorcycle noise has been added into the noise mix with additional seagull squeaking layered on top. Go figure, and wonder why a covert party wants to "own" all psychic and thematic associations with this word. And are we to believe it is the Girl Guides, aka noble objectives of a covert agency that sustains six years of abuse, that is commanding such a agrandizing imperative?

A shut-in day so far; any intention to deal with a few errands has been thoroughly dissapated. And another time waster was a prescribed nap of almost two hours, and I did not need any extra sleep having been given a normal 8 hours of it last night with only a few transient interuptions/awakenings.

Presently, the perps are getting excited by way of their planted noises, especially the ones outside my door in the apartment hallway, over the fact that I a reading, yet again, another version of the ether, and the grand unification of quantum mechanics, gravity, the paranormal and relativity ("Origin of Mind", Ronald D. Pearson). As always, I am not allowed, or cannot, understand this theory of physics with any degree of comprehension, and I am putting this link out there in the hope that someone else will read it and provide a Grand Unification Theory of Physics for Dummies, me being the test case. All I can say is the Pearson manages to tie in action-at-a-distance energies (including gravity), electromagnetic theory, the paranormal and relativity, which constitutes the main vectors of harassment and the rest of the perp games that go on. They even put the manager's voice on outside my door, and have even taken the bottle bashing there too, just like a rooming house.

Now the wandering cell phoning assholes are outside my door, and when I verbally complained about that, the assholes started up the glass bashing again. Maybe it is time to raise cain as to why anything is going on in the hallway outside my room at 1900h, but the street hollaring has also started up too. This is truly a high harassment moment, as the fuckers aren't going to quit. I gave them a yell, and I got a "sorry", but I have been there too often to buy that bullshit. Now the zinger masers have started up in earnest, along with some vision impairment games.

More noise, and a siren cascade into the bargain, and then the dog barking noise which is straight from the perp's sound projection device, as there are no properties within blocks that permit the dog in the yard scenario. Back to the past, and all the machinations in making noise outside my door at the putative rooming house, my last residence location.

I got my digital pictures loaded from the camera that I took everywhere this week, and lo, if they nearly all "failed" due to an exposure "problem". The camera was working fine, and then not all of a sudden. Even documenting this is a problem as the perps have also stolen my photographs from when they allowed the film camera to work, before they shut it down, and had the camera repair dude tell me that there was no parts for it. And there wasn't anything wrong with the photographs, just the film getting trashed along the sprocket holes each time. A few of the surviving pictures are shown at the top.

From the digital set that "failed", I had one of a navy officer, miles from a base, walking on residential North Park Street after I finished yoga class yesterday. This is at least the fourth party of putative military members to be on this street in the last two months. It makes no sense whatsoever, except in the bizarre freakshow world of the perps and their continuing quest to present it to me everywhere I go.

I am getting strobed again; the hyperactive window reflection of the residential tower 120' way "somehow" keeps throwing light flashes onto me in this apartment, even if I am 10' back from the window opening. When I look to see where they are coming from, the strobing stops. Perhaps this is all to get me to turn my head, something the perps do routinely when they are outside gangstalking, especially when turning corners, and around me. I have never seen such absurd social behavior as the operatives when some 4' away with their head turned away from where they are going, which is toward me usually.

More stroboscopic assaults, and the assholes aren't bothering with the pretense that it is coming from anywhere, just an in-my-face light pulsation along with sirens and loud mufflered vehicles. Now the door shaking stunt is being played, even with the deadbolt on the door, which theoretically should make it less able to hop about with two hold points on the door frame. This must be a big day for the perps, and perhaps I should ruin their fun and go somewhere for a walk, something that I never do except when transiting to specific locations. All my hiking stopped when I gave up my vehicle last year.

Another round of vision impairment games, and I am done for the evening. The perps are adding some kind of whitish flare to what I see, and I have no idea if it is a neural intrusion or something emanating from the LCD display.

I got the above four red vehicle pictures loaded, and the perps introduced me to another suite of four in file parked on the street below. Later, when I "happened" to get up and close the curtains, there were another two red vehicles mobile, but stopped beside the four in file. That makes six red vehicles massed below at that very (scripted) moment.

I am still getting vision assaults, so I will call this a posting, and blog off on this shut-in day.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Being Done Over by Doing Too Much

It is raining currently, and the rain first began only five minutes of me heading out to walk from the OB Rec. Center to my apartment, 30 minutes away. And it did get dark earlier, but has since brightened up, causing me to close the curtain earlier than normal, by two hours. And that equates to more perp games at dusk time, one that is particularly fraught for their experimentation studies on me, given the myriad games that have gone on at this juncture of the day.

I am also being rendered as "physically tired" when in fact I never had this problem before. The cover story is my usual Thursday routine; a vigorous yoga workout from 1130 to 1230h, and then at 1400h, a 30 minute walk to the OB Rec. Center which includes only 6 minutes of aerobic exercise time. The remainder of the workout was spent on floor exercises, free weights and exercise machines. Then a 30 minute walk back afterward.

And if I have been doing this for over 6 weeks now, why am I getting worse in my adaptation to the effort? And the same question should also be asked why am I sweating so much more, even in yoga? Well it so happens, that when one is wet, one makes for a better specimen to study energetics interactions from remote locations, which is what they are doing IMHO. And that the perps are both the ones to bring on this Pseudosweating as I call it, as they are to fix the mind-fuck script for me, and the precise placement and interaction of all the players I meet in any given day.

The Pseudosweating is not new, and in hindsight they have been doing this to me for over 8 years, when I started aerobics and cardiokick exercises which are a lot more active than yoga. But somehow, all that past Pseudosweating wasn't good enough, and nor was yoga since I began it this year, so they then applied the Pseudosweating to "happen" in yoga, right down to soaking my shirt. It is fucking absurd that I cannot be left alone to workout, and it is deemed as an free-for-all by the psychopathic assholes that keep harassing me 24x7.

I always wondered why I sweated way more than anyone else in the long past, as I could not understand how if I was in better shape than those to whom I was comparing myself, why was I soaked in sweat long before them? Now I know the answer to this mystery of most of my life. It is the architects of inhumanity prepping me for better and greater opportunities to be wet, and therefore a better energy read. And I swam swim practice with a club for close to 15 years, and was in excellent shape, all the while being wet, and still the harassment assholes didn't deem this good enough in the days of covert harassment.

And as they have followed me from birth, and have awarded me substantive documented learning disabilities in the process, and played endless tricks on me in the guise of normality which were all scripted, they weren't about to give up on their billion dollar nonconsensual experimentation subject, namely me. So, to make a long story short, they went into overt harassment in 2002, and made it plain obvious that I was being stalked, mind-controlled, the subject of unconventional physical forces that often defy gravity (flying food laterally tonight, and plastering it on the wall), and I am best served up when they make me, (or mind-fuck me more like), extremely annoyed. It is their biggest play, and they have already pulled this once in the course of writing this up, by jerking me into making three typos in succession over the word "the", even if I have 30 years of keyboard experience. No cover story needed in this instance.

I had plenty to mention about today's gangstalkings, and "somehow" I got diverted to writing up the above summary, and cannot "recall" what was the topic for tonight.

I got the usual 600 to 800 gangstalking vehicles while out walking along the major thoroughfares today, with the usual clusters by color, as well as the equispaced trains of headlit vehicles in specific sequences according to color, vehicle type and vehicle design. I had my camera with me, but couldn't get any of the more outrageous examples for the rain, no coincidence that. And I notice that the perps are posing for their pictures, even if looking the other way, as they will then change their comportment after the picture is taken, and still may not be looking at me, and yet they are interacting with me.

Which is a long way of saying that the entire picture taking process, the decision to take picture, getting the camera switched on, and depressing the shutter is entirely mind-controlled so that the timing with the subject's posing and faux reaction is impeccable. So much for cataloging the sins of the perps. And should there be any deviance from the script in this respect, why, the camera is remotely switched off or otherwise defeated for a few crucial seconds. One intended picture was the lead-ahead gangstalker placing his hand behind his back for no apparent reason, and just when I wanted to take a picture, the camera was off, when I had switched it on. Only when the operative was finished fiddling with his hand at his back, was the camera functional again.

And there are other instances where the camera gets switched off when all my instincts would be to have it on. The negro gangstalker popping out from the corner of the building and turning 90 degrees was a classic, as the perps have already pulled that stunt at that same corner. So what happens? The mind-fuck is laid on, depleting my knowledge of the possibility of this known stunt, and lo, a special gangstalking specimen emerges 6' in front of me. Funny how I don't recall any of the perp habits when at one time I knew them all, and in what context. And funny how only now am "I" (in the mind-controlled collective sense) taking pictures of the ongoing harassment fuckery when I could of been doing this since 12-2005 when I got a new camera, and haven't. That is a perfect example of how my (permitted) intentions and actions are only to serve the perp's purposes when they deem it is to their advantage. There are simply too many "happenchances" for this to be anything but tightly scripted.

And I am getting the planted romantic script again, having seen this one woman at Thursday yoga for whom I have absolutely no interest in. And her hair was in this bizarre iridescent red-brown color that gives me the heebie-jeebies. I cannot stand to look at her hair, especially highlighted in the light as it was, and at one point the perps mind-controlled me into making a needless turn to have another look when it was the last thing I wanted to do. One gets very astute as to what a perp controlled move is, and what is closer to self-directed, or is more of a natural move.

Her hair wasn't the only one on display today; I got the green hair show, and later some blue hair. More of the grotesque freak show that is my life. I also got another fully covered arms tatoo act nearby when working out. This dude follows me and plants himself on a machine 10' away with the aisle between us. Then the perps pass various gangtalkers between us, in varying colors of clothes. His tatoos were predominantly in green, and lo, if there wasn't a green vehicle parked out front, viewable through the windows. It too departs as part of the green color interaction testing that the perps wanted to focus on at that moment. For the record, I find tatoos gross, and that may be some long ago traumatization consequence for which I have no recollection of the causal event.

This recreation center recieved a huge upgrade in 2004, and I can only surmise that it was arranged to make it serve the harassment agenda after they found out in 2002 and to mid-2003 that they needed to screw me for longer, much longer, than the forced hospital stay with the "patient" operatives/gangstalkers. Hence the line of windows that faces the road outside, some 60' away, and parading color coordinated vehicles past three times in one session last week. (The fire truck being one last week; three passes that were coordinated with where in the workout room I was located).

And the perps put on some blatant plasma beams today; one red beam was 6' long by 5" wide, some 5' in front of me, and at a 30 degree angle from horizontal with vertical clipped ends. But as it so "happened" everyone else was turned the other way, headed to retrieve the big exercise balls. Some other small point source beams were also coming off me from what I could see in the mirror, and again, no one mentions anything.

I got the usual corralling when at workout, the clustering around me after I moved from the artificially lit side of the workout area to the machines that were in the sunlight, through the glass. They put Mr. Red in on me again, as they did two days ago when I was there. And it "so happened", this same gangstalker was put on me in the change room when I first arrived, and the lighting was dimmed as well, under the cover of being a maintenance issue, which also served as an excuse to put a ladder up in my proximity. The water fountain games are also getting more obstructional; each time "I" (in the collective mind-controlled sense) wanted to get a drink from the fountain, they had an operative or shill planted there. Another round of dashed expectations again, one of the most venerable perp games going.

Yesterday at dinner, my ex-wife reminded me of an instance when we saw a Michael Kaeshammer concert some 15 years ago at a New Year's Eve event when they brought on free champagne to the patrons in the seats, and he played on to 0230h in the morning in an amazing concert. Did I remember any of it? Just his name, and there was no reason for me to forget, which suggests that the perps were bombing my recall a long time ago, and possibly setting up this instance of faint recall. At first I said I didn't remember, and as she got into more detail, then it clicked. I have never known my recall to be so bad, and mine was always better than hers. It is likely that they also blanked her memory at certain times as well.

The emanations from this LCD panel are getting severe, and I might be reading books instead, though that alternative gets foiled as well. No reprieve from this vision buggering onslaught.

I was introduced to a new mind-fuck game today at OB Rec, Center. A dude was putzing with the weights while I was doing lunges and looking at my form in the mirror. For the most part, it was easier to see this dude in the mirror, and I only paid minimal attention to this act, as he was doing the usual gangstalker routine of bending over and extending his ass toward me from 3' away. Then at some point the perps directed me to look at him in the mirror, and instead of the normal perception of sensing this was a reflection, the assholes planted the notion in my mind that what I saw in the mirror was a real person, and not a reflection. This harassment mind-fuck stunt was immediately relieved by looking at my own reflection only, and not looking anywhere else. This is perceptual sabotage is another "never-before", and ranks up there with the other disorienting games that are going on. Anyhow, it is simply amazing how many perception games the perps can arrange, though I am quite sure I don't get to experience the full suite, and nor to the intensity they could unleash if they wanted to.

Another game the perps like to play is to have me get the gender incorrect of a specially planted gangstalker or operative. Today, they put a short white haired lardass in a formless coat some 40' in front of me, and it seemed to be the appearance of a man judging by the hair. Anyhow, this gangstalker dawdled at the pedestrian crossing allowing me to catch up, and lo, if it wasn't a woman after all. I usually get one of these every two weeks or so, and they do like me to know that "I" got it wrong. This suggests that they are still digging for the full perceptual experience of seeing a man versus a woman, and having me make a "mistake" in this respect, and then by correcting my perception, this will likely provide a bounty of associations and psi energies the perps are attempting to quantify. Not my problem, so why am I getting harassed over it?

In the news, I see that Paris Hilton was released from jail. I have remarked in past blogs on the perp's predisposition to plant young blonde women around me, usually at the outset of a gangstalking session or in a new venue. And it would seem that Paris Hilton has followed in the footsteps of Martha Stewart as the blonde woman in prison, and while it seems perverse to even consider the comparison, I am going to ramble on this topic for a bit.

Another perp fixation is the color of one's clothes, and how that influences the subject/victim, and also, how that energetically interacts with other's and their clothing. So it could well be that both Martha Stewart and Paris Hilton were being tested for clothing color interactions, given that they would be likely wearing one color prison garb. And I did find it interesting that Paris Hilton was given a premature release, which was rescinded, and that also fits the pattern of the perp's testing, doing something needlessly twice or more, especially when they are on the cusp of figuring something out.

Do I have any proof of this? Of course not, but I am beginning to understand that there is more manipulation of individuals going on than it seems. I don't want to specify as to what level mind-control is going on, as I don't know for sure. My main focus is to clearly identify anomalous events and circumstances as they relate to my 53 year history of being exposed to events and occurences that are of significant interest to the perps. The Essential Postings to the right is the collection of what I have learned is of continuing interest to the perps, and this has origins long before they went into overt harassment on me over five years ago.

When one has arrived at the conclusion one's entire existence is polluted by the perps, it makes it very easy to observe their interests owing to their timing of noisestalking and other harassment methods.

I am getting the fuzzy black balls coming at me in formation pairs, and the whitish emanations are getting severe, so I am going to call this a posting and blog off for the day.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Back to Wall Pounding

As this is laundry day, an activity of considerable interest the perps, they have upped the ante of noise without ostensible cause, and started up wall or overhead floor pounding of concrete, which no doubt includes sending vibrations all about me as I read the online news. No tradesman was around as the putative source.

Another event that they restarted is elevator rushing; coming at me, or standing in the way, when I want to exit. This stunt has been playing for over three years, anytime I am in a building with this feature. It is plain fucking bizarre, everyone engages in the same behavior as if a switch was pulled.

The noise of 2 cycle motorcycles is playing big this morning; even before 0900h when the typical chopped Harley Davidson owner is not yet awake. And for the record, there isn't a biker's bar within 10 miles in this gentrified city.

And this very noise erupted when dealing with a perp stunt of planting some chicken meat on my fingers after cutting it up for lunch, and the meat kept hopping from finger to finger, one hand to the other, and of course the perps got me rage-ified while all that was happening. Similarly with the tortillas; the juvenility of old has come back in the form of sticking them together in the package and having them rip holes in the adjacent tortilla. The perps had been playing this stunt every day for some months in 2005 and early 2006, then they stopped. Now, this vexacious annoyance has been unleashed upon me again.

The typo sabotage continues, and is also highly vexing as I attempt to journal as this is written. And the usual profusion of masers and plasma beams has not abated any. The perps are now getting bold enough to fire a toroidal pulse of a whitish cast toward me from the LCD panel at the moment I bookmark a web page. This continuing game of harassment over every thing I do is relentless as it is fucking sick and depraved.

The perps jerked me for a 10 hour sleep again last night, when I only need eight at the most. As far as I know, there were no awakenings or imposed dreams, though there was some testing of my recall that I won't get into.

The noisescape has also been amplified; putting down a mug or item on the kitchen counter or cupboard shelf gets me at least twice the noise of a few weeks ago, even for a second longer than my hand is on the object, and being pulled back. Go figure.

The laundry, a continuing battleground for the perps and their stunts was also invaded with juvenility. Another washing machine leak, though thankfully of minimal proportions, and I got the in hallway stalker act who wasn't inclined to let me pass by. More of the appalling "instant ignorance" of not observing social rules, something that is breaking out everywhere around me. There is a medical term for someone who lacks understanding of social mores, including interpersonal distance, and after getting jerked around in finding a medical dictionary on the web, I will give this one a pass.

Now street hollaring has stared up as the supply of voice noise from my left, as hallway sourced noise will serve from my right side.

I got ready at 1500h and here I am back 5 hours later, without too many complaints as to the gangstalking and other perp action around me. It was the awards ceremony at my daughter's highschool, grade 11. She got an mathematics award as an achiever this year, which is a substantial departure from where she was at two years ago, as the irradiations render one with impaired cortical growth, and that means conceptualization and abstraction skills. Perhaps the perps are adding back neural capability they once inadvertently plundered.

And when heading out in the elevator, I got my glass bottle bashing noise and vibration treatment. Two operatives were in the elevator with large quantities of glass bottles, and bashing and jiggling them while the elevator descended. These two went out the door ahead of me, and another operative suddenly arrived to enter just after I exited. Three of the assholes were on me when I am just getting out the door, one of the biggest Fuckover locations going, doors and entrances to buildings, and even rooms.

I was at this same venue two weeks ago for my daughter's dance, and it seemed to be another game of locking onto my vision and plying the house with plasma and maser flashes. And given the nature of the event, there were plenty of high achieving students around me who were getting up and down to make multiple trips to the stage for awards.

Then my mother led the threesome around me in raising the program up to above head level and engaging in a "concentrated" look at this white paper with the program in black ink. Then she leaned the program toward me, almost in my face for her to read it, doing the "pretend to find the availible light" trick. I am getting mind-controlled to be intensely pissed over the new and flagrant incursions on my personal space that are going on, all because the perps lack the gumption to fess up about their non-consensual human experimentation some sick assholes (Feral parents) signed me up for in some kind of demented state. Yesterday's half hour of some "vistor" standing over while performing yoga is another case in point. I hate being followed, gangstalked, accosted and corralled by all these coordinated assholes action in unison. If there is any justice, it will be meted out with a baseball bat to every gangstalking fucker that has pissed me off, the data availible from the perps who know me better than I do, and store all this information. Hence the "improved" recall of late.

Then the kid in front of me got "too hot" and began fanning himself with his program, and with some added lighting tricks, it almost attained stroboscopic annoyance levels as he fanned his face and passed the program past his head, and then back again, where I saw more white reflectance from th printed program than it should of been. The senseless fanning activity was also noted in last week's June 22 Holy Cole concert.

When seated at the awards ceremony, I had a blonde woman in front of me and to the right, and a brunette woman directly in front. They nattered back and forth, appearing to be doting parents, though it wasn't exactly clear who their children were. The blonde woman was ahead of me in getting out, was placed 8' outside the main building doors while I was heading for the exit, and then came toward me and passing closely by on my right (aka gangstalking me) as I crossed the doorway threshold. Who that was I don't know, but it could of been the consistent mystery woman if one allows the morph-over concept to be applied.

Elsewhere in the show and after plenty of exposure to the red clothing in the audience and the award winners, the far doors were opened up, and lo, if a janitor didn't cruise by with a large plastic red bin 40' away. Earlier, a young woman 4 seats over in a carmine red was pulled for 20 minutes or so, possibly to settle down my red reactions and aid the perps in determining where all my neural respsonses to red were coming from.

And of course I saw plenty of red clothing on stage for the awards, never mind uglier colors like brown and orange. I got the sense the entire show had been rehearsed by everyone but me, and I can only assume the color of the clothing was also chosen well in advance as well. All the seats were red colored, and just like last week's show, there was an empty row of red seats when there was an overflow crowd. Go figure.

And the same once co-worker who I saw two weeks ago at the dance show at the same venue was also there, as his kid is the same age as my daughter, and he was there to give a (gangstalking) hello, as we were in a crush and there was not opportunity for other conversation, just like last time. Assuming of course, he wanted to engage in talk as he knows I know that the harassment and scripted mind-fuck life goes back to our college and working days. The harassment is the elephant in the road that no one talks about, and refrains from even making a passing reference unless I have been muted in advance. (As in mind controlled "not to know", or "not bothering" to respond to in the true contex, pretending the harassment and everyone's involvement isn't happening).

While at the awards presentation the perps pulled countless emo-trashings, where they create an overwrought emotional reaction to the stories of accomplishments. Why can't they let be stay "faded out", the way they managed me for over 50 years? And if these planted "emotional" reactions weren't enough, the perps then began dithering my vision and pissing with what I was allowed to see at the very same moment, as if blinded by tears (which did not happen). And on top of those vision impairment moments, they added coughings from elsewhere in the audience, the telltale short coughs that erupt all around me when in public.

Then onto dinner out with the ex and our daughter, as the latter was starving before the awards show, and had to wait it out for 2.5 hours longer until it was over. Or at least, this was the setup, as time without fail, she gets into a snit about something when we first meet, and spends the rest of the contact time recovering from that, time without fail. So I have no idea if this regular stunt is for real or not, but it is always consistent.

While at dinner, we got served by a young and gracious blonde woman, and on the other side of the booth, she was consorting with two other young blonde women waitresses. Eventually these were replaced with a young male in all black, and a young brunette girl, also dressed in the same color. It is as if some kind of auric goodness is given off by the blondes, and then other (unfavored demographic) parties are permitted to then enter my gaze by having shared it.

And true enough, a huge 300+ lb dude came in and was set up in my view, and then a geriatric on the opposite side of the customer seating I could see from my seated location. I cannot count how many times my gaze was directed to look at these apparitions of the unfavored demographic groups the perps take great pains to plant in my proximity, but it was more than enough.

I also had a ride in my ex's new (to her) 1995 BMW 325i convertible, and what a nice car it is. Plenty of pep, and all the comforts of leather seats and all the controls one could want. As the vehicle was white with a black interior, the perps were all over me with white and black vehicles, and then introducing red vehicles, sometimes 18 passing or stationary at an intersection. There were strings of white and silver grey combinations, sometime 8 or more from this combined color group that has about the same greyscale tone. And the S. side of the restaurant had exclusively 8 silver grey, white or mid-grey vehicles parked, that being the only color of vehicles for two parked rows on this side.

There were three abreast similar blue colored vehicles placed around us in traffic, and I gave up counting of the clusters of red, white, silver grey and black colored vehicles that were arranged. It was likely one of the biggest vehicular gangstalkings going, as this was a first time trip for me in this vehicle. As the ex's new vehicle was a convertible, this added extra impetus to ambulatorily gangstalk me from the curb and sidewalk.

That is enough news to call this a posting; I am getting more vision impairments and whitish plasma emanations coming at me to continue for any longer.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Another Online Schlepping Day

Translated, the post's title refers to the fact that I had the ambition to walk some three blocks into downtown and do some banking and then pick up more omega 3 supplements, as these had an "accelerated" depletion rate by unconventional means. Then the ambition notions rapidly attenuated, and here I am putzing on the web all morning, my usual default "habit".

And it seems that the perps want to repeat last month's temporal offset medication and supplement timing acquisition and use. The medications were procured a week before "I" (in the collective mind controlled sense) was energized to get the supplements and start using them. Hence, the supplements, a month's supply, should have lasted an extra week longer, but mysteriously didn't. There have been past anomalous depletions of my essential fatty acids supply, even in pre-overt harassment days before 04-2002.

As I predicted, the perps kept me tossing and turning for over an hour last night before allowing me to go to sleep. I had an uncontrolled thought come to mind as I was reviewing the day's activities, and realized that yesterday my mother asked about furniture of mine that she has never seen or would even know about. These are two indoor canvas chairs with chrome frames that my brother disposed of, though he never mentioned where, in early 2005. I was moving into a smaller apartment and had no room for them. I owned these chairs first when I was in Seattle in 2001, and so only I would know about them, as family "interaction" (as managed by mind-control and scripts), doesn't get to the level of even mentioning furniture in any detailed way, and nor have my parents ever visited any of my five apartments in town.

When I had that realization, if indeed it was mine, while tossing and turning, the noisescape was turned up for the next five minutes or so; more overhead pounding, more heavy duty vehicle noise from outside (at 2300h to 2400h), more brake squealing, a procession of vehicles with perforated mufflers, buzzy Vespas noise, the tenth siren occurence of yesterday, street hollaring and a few other augmentations that I cannot recall.

Another nightime game was to wake me up and look at the grainy picture show on the ceiling, and this time it was dynamic, with a vibrational grainy appearance that was active, unlike the static looks of the past. And for the first time in observing this "regular" anomalous phenonmenon, I was permitted to not only see this grainy pulsation of the light, but also treated to watching it slow down and dissapate to then appear static. Looking at the ceiling never has been so interesting until the perps arrived to let me know they were managing my life, and it wasn't out of any appreciation of the fact that they had already been doing since birth without anyone telling me.

I am back from the yoga and the strength training workouts, at differing locations. It is quite clear that the perps are loading more gangstalkers around me, and aren't looking to their usual pretense. One dude comes in 15 minutes late into yoga and then plants himself beside me, and then shows off his skin tone brown socks. I moved over. Then, an elderly woman arrives 30 minutes late and stands 2' away, behind me the entire time. What person on their 70's can, or would, stand for 30 minutes when a chair is beside them? I was fucking pissed at this, and wondered who in the fuck would be that sick. And very likely I know the asshole and this person was attempting to put on the staring act, and this was their morph-over form. Probably my mother, as her disappearances are getting suspicious. And I wouldn't be surprised if the 15 minutes late act with the disgusting socks wasn't my out-of-town brother who has been on many gangstalkings of late, even down to the changing hair color, same person. Meaning, the perps were purposely blowing his cover while morphed in that same body and face set.

We all had a blue mats at yoga, seven participants and six variants of blue, the only duplicate identical blue was mine, as a big hefty dude putting on the cretin act in all navy blue came for the first time, and did stand-around duty until the elderly woman came to gangstalk right over me. There is no question this yoga class is becoming an operative's rotation for gangstalking freaks, and now, no social distance is respected.

And I also got at least three red plasma flashes while a yoga in my peripherial vision, and of course no one said anything. There were at least three one second long flashes of yellow and apple green before the class started, and they were between an operative and me, and would of been seen by at least two others, and yet again, no one said anything. It is a outrage that I am being hounded all over the city, and then the sickos come to stand over me while in a yoga class.

Then onto strength training where red was the predominant color theme for the operatives swarming around me in four separate locations. While on the bicycle they filtered five of them around me, one by one, over 8 minutes or so, one guy I know from my past career who was in the next door office. He came in an apple green shirt, and this is becoming a frequent plasma flash color by designed coincidence.

In the Fellini-like progression of freaks that are "showing up", today's award goes to the operative who was hefting weights, and encircling me, all the while with his shirt lapel stuck in his mouth, and wearing shades the whole time while indoors. Yessir, you read that correctly, adult operatives/gangstalkers now place a part of their shirt in their mouth, and walk about in a fitness center, and aren't in our "day group" of putative mental defectives . In this instance, the shirt-biter had the corner of a dark green shirt in his mouth for the 15 minutes that I observed him, or more like, my attention was directed to see.

And the perps are still on granny stalking while I work out; the same wizened bag is placed near me, or my attention is directed to see, this same woman for over 8 sessions, who is always there when I am there, (and how would that happen so consistently?), and she gets "featured" everytime. She is planted when I enter, exit, wandering by when on a machine, planted in my view when on the 10 minute aerobic session, and consistently end up in view everywhere I am while there. Even the old gents in street clothes have been pulled after 4 weeks, but the granny stalking is relentless.

At the conclusion of strength training the perps had me in cornered in the change room with two dudes wearing red and one had a red gym bag in hand. The when I got out to depart, they put on two women in file both with red shirts one being a carmine red (fugly), then when on the street outside the recreation center, they put on six red parked vehicles in various orientations, and then when at the first intersection to cross, they put on three red vehicles in file, plus at least another five red vehicles passing through or turning a corner. That was the biggest red show yet, save yesterday's 8 parked red vehicles at the computer service location.

I got another reprise gangstalker while enroute in walking back from the recreation center; a navy sport jacked portly 50+ y.o. over a burgundy shirt "shows up" at the first intersection when I passed by, and he looked like a fish out of water in a suburban shopping area. Then some 25 minutes later, this same dude in the same clothes is walking toward me, closer to downtown, but still in a neighborhood where the formality is on the low side. As this is second such reprising gangstalker within two weeks, each within a half block of each other at both ends, it cannot be a fluke for even the doubters, aka clinical touts.

More overhead pounding has started up, enough for me to yell at the assholes, and still they keep this up, attempting to make it seem if the upstairs "neighbors" are tromping around in lead boots and hefting safes back and forth. My reading about Linux and Microsoft in the computer news has the perps worked up, or else it is the brown colored dinner content digestion moment they have been hounding me over for 5 years.

I heard from my ex that our daughter is going to get an award tomorrow, and the concluding school term ceremonies. And I am invited for a second foray of recent weeks to that same school for another mass gangstalking, which is the real reason. And my parents are going, a reasonably strong tip off that it is a First Feral Family event, along with everyone else. How the seating and the timing of the arrangements are going to happen I don't know. In just about every instance of group event attendance over the last five years of being harassed, and even the 4 years before that when I was employed, I was either first or last in arriving to the room or location. It is a very big deal for the perps to arrange these, as today's stand-over-me gangstalker while practicing yoga attests.

And of course this is a big deal for me as to what to wear, as I wear jeans almost exclusively, and my sports jackets are still rumpled from being stored for the past 7 months. And I am begining to understand that my entire adult life of having few matching garment combinations, despite having plenty of clothes, is also a perp managed adversity. All these clothes and few sensible combinations, and I spent decades planning to fix this wardrobe problem, and I never did "somehow". Now I know, and given their interest in all colors that I wear or see, as well as the fabrics, they had a total control over what my wardrobe.

More overhead pounding again, this time it is contingent on any thoughts that are not mind-controlled. The perps appear to use the strategy of posing a question to my subconscious that I am unaware of, so I answer it, and if it goes off script, the fuckers start pounding a 4" concrete and steel floor above me. There is some logic circuit of mine that they cannot yet disable via remote means, though they have made me do many of my routines ass backwards of late, another never-before that is being applied to me more often of late.

A yawning attack erupted as soon as I took on a new subject to look at online. These too, have long dogged me, and I could never determine a pattern of my yawning spates from the long past, and of course, they were remotely invoked at the whim of The Powers That Be, on yet again, some deranged quest for which they won't declare themselves, as if someone is looking over their shoulder.

Now more pipe bashing noise from overhead, with something like creaky springs added over it. And as it so happens, the noise is tracking my mouse clickings so enough of that activity and continuing with blogging.

And time to blog off, and call it a day, and ready myself for my going out tomorrow afternoon.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Getting the Red Out

I am back online after running errands in my parent's vehicle, as their PC has a memory problem that spans multiple applications. That was Sunday when I looked at it, and since I stayed over there that night, and my father goes to a daycare for Alzheimer's patients on Mondays, it all worked out so conveniently for me to aid in driving my mother to a few locations, and to serve as gangstalking bait for the many hundreds, if not, thousands of gangstalking vehicles on duty today.

There were two instances of eight red vehicles at a glance, and to no suprise, they had them arranged as parked vehicles all about the computer service shop. And it was just red vehicles on the other side of the road; three in file on the street parking, another at a 90 degree angle to them, and at least three customer vehicles at the Ford dealership (I don't count car lot vehicles), and another one on the street. And behind me, another red vehicle.

We went to the post office down the street, and of course all the livery, counter and floor color are in red, and the cashier in pink pants. There were at least two more red vehicles parked outside in red, and then onto Red Robin for lunch. It has been at least 15 years since I had been to this particular location in town, and true to their name, they had red floor covering, red seats, red table tops and red dressed employees. Then onto the menu, though also with blue and yellow. Anyhow, I was duly given my red fix by the perps today.

And they did go with at least three young blonde women around me, one being the waitress, and another being a proximate customer with a black hoodie, pink cell phone and talking very loudly on it too. Call it "blonde aura", as it seems the perps want me to be receptive to all things red as I am about blonde hair. The things that they teach me, especially when I was never aware that I was adverse to specific colors in the first place, before they revealed this agenda theme.

And I should back up my suggestion (above) that there may have been thousands of gangstalking vehicles on duty. To be fair, I don't know for sure. My mother and I were sitting at the Red Robin restaurant which is beside a six lane artery plus left turn lanes, and every time I looked out, there were formations of traffic (in tight groups defined by size, vehicle type and color), and we were there for nearly an hour. Whether this was gangstalking of vehicles through the wall and the glass I cannot be certain, but all I know is that there is never that much traffic on Blanshard St. at mid-day. And of course, I also know that there are no coincidences in my life.

And I was, and still am, being spaced out today, and the only reason must be that the assholes are up to remotely applied temporal lobe (brain region) de-energization. And I am getting extremely pissed at this, as this is another new imposition, and I don't like having my cognition being fucked with any more that "usual". That meaning, the learning disabilities I have already been given, since 1960 when they were first identified.

The seventh siren cascade this afternoon just finished. And just before, a sudden overhead pounding (noise only, as the ceiling is 4" of concrete), and me yelling at the assholes again, all to "tune me up" it would seem.

The perps backed off on the floaty sensations after I had tea, but they are still spacing me out as to logical thought and continuity. This is a high intervention day, that being disruption and downgrade of normal thought processes. And of interest, my ability to recall useless or vaguely associated trivia has increased substantially this past month, which tels me one thing, that someone else is supplying the memories for me. Fucking sick, this ongoing harassment at the hands of the most thankless psychopathic organizations in existence. And no way out.

Now that dinner is undergoing digestion, the sirens have started up again, and the overhead pounding is also going on. As always, how could anyone cause 4" concrete and steel floors to pound and vibrate except with mechanical, or extra-conventional, means.

And I am getting more of the "floaty" sensations, as it seems today is a serious harassment extenuation effort. I will call it now; one hour minimum of lying awake with plenty of "turnover" before being allowed to sleep.

My PC technician didn't come as arranged. This is to repair the sound, as I cannot get any from video or other like data form which occured when the PC was taken in to get its two hard drives replaced. When I explained the history, and that two hard drives simultaneously failed, of differing makes and ages (one under warranty even), he found that hard to believe. And my allowed line was to say something to the effect that there are many more glitchy things happening in my life, and that is but one example.

As it "somehow" took me weeks to pull the in-building PC technician's phone number from his poster on the building's information board, I cannot believe that the above conversation wasn't scripted, and that his no-show wasn't too. Early in the harassment game in 2002, some resources I employed to apply diligence to research or investigate made later excuses as to why they couldn't deliver. My take on that failing performance was that that someone monitoring my phone calls "got to them". It was at least 18 months later when I came to understand that the breadth and depth of mind-control was fixed to appear that way, and I am quite positive that my "intuition" was in fact scripted and planted to feed the notion that I was being followed more than led.

I got a sudden need to shut down the PC, and lo, if I wasn't mind-controlled to take a crap, one of the perp's most cherished harassment situations they curse me with. I say mind-controlled in this instance, as I had none of the usual physiologic sensations to signal this need. I got an average level of harassment; two plungings and a shower to clean up. I also got stroboscoped with a white flash while engaged in the activity, something that always seems to get me riled up.

I am getting some more bizarre modifications to the appearence of text on my PC; all open sessions have a new thinner font, a differing blank space to line width proportion. And I am getting vision impairments into the deal as well, never mind the constant noise of loud vehicles trailing off into the distance.

This is while I am entranced with alien stories of a long ago editor Ron Rummel of the Alien Digest who was murdered. That is a real issue for alien and alien abduction researchers, that their work may displease the subjects. Years ago, as a teenager I would read about strange events, the Bermuda Triangle and ghost ships being introduced into popular culture. Now, knowing that there are the perps, or The Powers That Be, it all begins to make sense as to a causal agency.

Anyhow, today has been a high-intrusion weirdness day, and it is time to blog off and hope that it doesn't repeat tomorrow.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Sunday Street Cleaning

The ever vigilant city works is back onto Sunday street sweeping with the specialized vehicle that scrubs the street surface at the gutter, curb, and one adjacent vehicle width of street surface. I have commented in the past as to how unusual this; Sundays, daytime hours, and consistency of this. I was likely lead to an article online, for which I cannot recall the link, which indicated that there is a very fine dust of platinum on the street owing to the exhausts of vehicles with catalytic converters that contain this element. As the perps like to inform me of their methods and challenges, by way of planted news stories, I can only assume that this must be the case, as it has now become a regular event. And the street sweeping also precedes me on my walking beats, and early in the game, was even present when I was streetside once.

The noisescape has been off and on, and has currently subsided for the most part, the overhead rumbling noise excepted, as it "travels about", placing itself precisely overhead. It is more like a normal Sunday, rather than the continuous progression of loud mufflered vehicles trailing off to the distance.

I got a nightime test of my knowledge energetics again; this time the perps seem to have successfully defeated my ability to know and correlate events to my current reality. (That being harassed and constantly jerked around by extra-gravitational energies, gangstalking and being the poster-boy for their mind-control capabilites). They woke me up enough to hear some street hollaring at about 0400h, and I heard it, and didn't make any determination as to the reason (more harassment games), and only two seconds later was I allowed to know that it was the usual perp games). They have been working on this front for weeks, pulling similar stunts; e.g arranging shapes and shadows on the wall to look like a bullet hole, and other immediately facile games.

The bottom line is that the perps can now mess with my knowledge and associations of being constantly harassed and manipulated. Which means they have attained the holy grail of mind-control; being able to covertly and remotely recast one's perception of their reality. And in my case, it is living in two worlds, borrowing a phrase of Carissa Conti's; one being the harassed and manipulated world, and the other being a Potemkin Village world of pretense, deceit and scripted games that operates around me, 24x7.

And another jerkaround that has being playing in mind, as in planted thoughts, is a (their) "fixation" over one of the women who regularly attends Thursday yoga class. (She is routinely "featured", as in planting herself discretely in my way). I have complained about this in past blogs, and usually the perps play this stunt for an hour or so, but today, they have been at it since I got up at 0630h. I did yell at the perps once over this, and they backed off for a half hour.

And it "so happened" at yoga that this same woman asked the instructor about a beginer's yoga book, and I overheard the instructor mention the DK book, Iyengar Yoga, which then lead to "my recollection", and then interjection that I posess this very book. The instructor asked if I had read it, and I hadn't, as the book is virtually untouched while I have been kept "off" reading, and the book has been in storage over the past five years, except now. This book "happened" to be one that I retained from storage when I went through all my boxes over the last six weeks. Some might call this synchronicity, but having been kept in this state by my mind-keepers by constant daily "coincidences", I now take the perpspective that there is no such thing, at least in a TI's life. (This might even be true for anyone).

And as a side note on this book, I bought it at a good price when I was in Seattle, cruising Costco's book selections. That was at least six years ago, and it does suggest that the perps have been planning my current yoga (begun in early 2007) activity since then. There have been other indications of long term planning in past blogs. Oddly, I only went to yoga only once in the 3.5 years I lived in Seattle, as I favored the more energetic cardio-kick and aerobic workouts. One can assume that was planned for me too, knowing now the depth of mind-control being applied then. And one can also assume that all the spine twisting in yoga is for an ulterior purpose, consistent with the gangstalkers who are prone to bend over in stores, twist themselves to look at things of no consequence (especially when turning a 90 degree corner), crouch down or look up for no seeming cause, lean-forward acts when seated and the rest of their quasi-normal public back flexing routines.

As for these planted fixations over romantic prospects (as defined and scripted by them), this has occured once before, with my then new dentist, and the notion of any such prospects was not even rational, let alone plausible. At the time, and in the privacy of my suite, I verbally went through all the sane reasons why this was a manufactured and planted notion, and the telepathic answer I got back was, "trust us". No thanks, not then, not ever, not on my shift. And that remains my position; the perps are planting needless and inauthentic notions in mind for no reason but their own depraved agenda. Call it the mind-field, one that is invaded by one team only and who make all the rules up, and won't inform me of them until long afterwards . And it just happens to be my mind, which I do mind very much, so to speak.

I am getting sucked into a sleep (almost) while sitting at the PC and reading with some difficulty. And meanwhile, the clunking and thumping has been going on, likely to noisestalk and obtain deeper neural correlates of my energetics. I am still the subject of various text size and weight games on web pages. Invariably, there are loud motorcycle noises trailing off as I read, and often I, in the collective mind controlled sense, place my fingers over my ears to reduce the sound trail. As this habit is now established, I suspect that it is a method for the perps to better assess my energetics from their remote location, as what could be better than touching one's self, as in self gangstalking almost.

Back to the whining "neighbor's faucet noise, this time only from the bathroom. Before teatime, there were indentical fauct/water running noises from the kitchen and the bathroom, and then the fridge compressor jumped into the sound/noise mix.

I was almost asleep while reading online before tea, and this is a recurring pattern and I am always reading a screen full of text at that point.

I am going to go to my parent's place shortly, and so I am going to call this a posting and blog off. There hasn't been too much excitement this afternoon, save the harassment of opening a package of biscuits again. I had sworn off biscuits just to avoid this very jerkaround, but in a familiar refrain, I "forgot", when I never ordinarily forget such an emotionally charged event such as the fucking imposed hassle of the last bicuit package opening. If that doesn't spell mind-control, I don't know what does, but I am always open to other interpretations.

Saturday, June 23, 2007


I am being managed to be very lazy today, and I often reflect on my past as to when the perps were able to coral and defeat this ability. There seemed to be some setups in the late 1980's when my thought-to-be friend and I would undertake chainsaw milling on his acreage. He often would be ready to ditch the activity in favor of an early lunch, and I would be playing the motivated one, and seek a more judicious break for later, typically using our activity tasks as a motivator. Examples would be, "one more board to cut", when "we next need to sharpen the cutters on the chain", etc. and it was remarked by others as to how I was much more motivated to produce more. I suppose these were arranged to elicit motivated behavior, and form the basis for the perps to quantify its energetics, and in that way, suck down my (and others') motivation as needed.

As one could discern, I have re-cast all events in my life with the new reality of being covertly monitored and messed with, and this shoe does seem to fit. There have been at least a hundred behavioral oddities of others that I couldn't fathom at the time, and if I mentioned it to my ex (then wife), she never posited any analytical thought to the matter, and just blew me off. Now I know why she was such an emotional dead end. Anyhow, I won't prevail on this topic, and I don't know why it was begun.

I got harassed into a coughing jag at breakfast; while making coffee (of substantial perp interest, -browness possibly) and while pouring cereals (first time spelt grain- darker brown of the usual gluten free mix). This is at least the fourth in the past three days, when I usually was assaulted with one or less per month. And when I examine the timing of it, there is a good fit with high interest perp activities. Another bonus of the perps when recovering from a coughing jag is a cover story for altering my voice at least three times while articulating my complaints, and then truncate my words, as if I am too strained to pronounce them. The perps also added in vision impairments while having me cough on cue. Anyhow, I was glad that was over, as they have me vocalize in those circumstances much more than I would otherwise.

I was mind-fucked into a freeze situation where a web page of four photos of Michelle Pfeiffer displayed on my LCD panel. This was an inadvertent (to me) page that I had got in error, and while being frozen so I couldn't immediately navigate back, a string of street shouting erupted for the five seconds I was compelled to look at her pictures. And to be straight, she is blonde, pretty, but I do not follow her, or any other actress, to any significant degree. This was another incident of noisestalking, although in outside voice form, while I was temporarily captive in looking at this actress' image. As for why, I cannot be sure, but the perps are looking for some kind of psychic association between me and her, and it does make me wonder just who else are they monitoring?

Another on-street altercation with a perp/shill; this one deliberately stepped into my path at the exit to the local grocery store, and all I got was a dufus grin from the dude with the shades on. This is the second one in week where they want to jump on every bit of ground that I cover. I also think that the perps want me to vocalize at the threshold of the entrance/exit of a building. They have cranked me up at the identical type of location at other stores as well, and usually put on no less than three gangstalkers anytime I enter or exit a building. And in this case, I would of just finished paying for my groceries, another mighty event to gangstalk as the perps see it.

And I have noticed that they like me to exit my apartment and go outside to a store, class etc. after dealing with email, usually to a Targeted Individual. There must be some residual energies that they are attempting to discover, in routinely timing my email correspondence just before attending to outside endeavors of any stripe.

The perps have also modified the color of my hair on the back of my fingers, and added more hairs too. Now these hairs are a red to light brown color, very different than any other body hairs, and I have a notion it might be in aid of their cause to have red hair, usually in the form of red-haired gangstalkers, planted nearby me.

Though in some cases this seems to backfire, and then they pull the red-haired gangstalker out of the group early. This was the case at the Tuesday yoga class where two red-haired class members were planted, and one inexplicably departed after 10 minutes of an 60 minute session.

I have seen other instances of the perps pulling a specific demographic category gangstalker from my proximity. The ones that come to mind are negroes, East Indians, wiry haired individuals, and now red-haired individuals. I do not notice any reaction on my part to these people, and yet they get pulled from the gangstalk scene earlier than I would expect. Or put it another way, they prematurely exit the scene, when anyone else would of stayed. Another example was a frizzy haired Caucasion male who was sitting two rows in front of me at a concert, and after some 15 minutes of a 75 minute show, he and his girlfriend suddenly got up and left.

I am getting a high pitched whine coming from somewhere, and there is no faking it and adding it to plumbing noises, the usual cover story. As always, any uncontrolled thoughts that come to mind get an immediate response of noise, or a forced itch and then scratch, a burp, a vision impairment, a maser or plasma flash or any combinations.

I spent the last hour cleaning up old postings, and re-vamping the Essential Introductory Postings list seen on the right side of this posting. Such activity is a chore, and I don't really know if I am ahead or not in editing my past work as the perception of being scrambled suddenly comes on me, and I am unable to wear the hat of a naive reader. In other words, I am being constrained as to the style of writing of my blog postings. For the record, I attempt to keep these posts at the level of an intelligent new reader, one who has no idea of this harassment from action at a distance technologies being used operationally. I don't like blogs with "in" information, references for the in-the-know crowd, or any that sling acronyms around without explanation. Attaining the goal of the intended audience is difficult fro me as the perps keep depleting me of the editing criteria I would normally have in mind while undertaking this task. Suffice to say, I haven't really edited the Essential Introductory Postings like I have wanted to. And I am still in the process of putting this list together.

Though it is interesting to note that some of my terms and concepts of long past blog postings have been "dropped" from my vocabulary, and I can only assume it is by the hand of the assholes who are screwing me on every other front. I once used the phrase, the "collective I", in reference to being mind-controlled by a significantly resourced agency that is attached to my every action. Funny how I don't use that phrase anymore, as it is most apt.

Time to call this day a wrap; more reading of In Two Worlds has kept me occupied, and their well might be a connection in that Carissa Conti is likely as monitored, per self declaration, as much as I am, though she doesn't get harassed. And she might be blessed to some extent by The Powers That Be (TPTB) as she calls them, as she indicated that she felt "upgraded" in terms of mental faculties at one time. For my part, I was "downgraded", as in remotely invoked learning disabilities, which was known from my school record in 1960 or 1961, and no one told me.

Friday, June 22, 2007

A New Round of Noise Amplification

Translated, the title really means that all sounds and noise in my existence will be both louder and more often. It started first thing this morning with the road traffic noise, already too loud for being six stories up, and it now sounds as if I have the window open, which I don't. It was opened a few days ago, and who knows, perhaps this was some kind of replicative or trial event.

And it is not enough to put down anything like crockery with three "bounces" or rap noises, no matter how particular I am about reducing the amount of excuses the perps capitalize on. As of today, putting an empty plate on a counter, as an example, has been controlled to take 4 to 5 "bounces" or rapping noises. And if I get too careful about putting down objects to make less noise, why, I somehow "forget" my own habits of noise abatement. That is how tight I am managed, or more like, controlled.

More strange goings on just now; a bullshit call from the ex, "have a good time at the concert tonight", though she did buy the ticket as a birthday present. It is to see Holly Cole and Michael Kaeshammer. For the past hour I have been treated to continuous loud vehicle noises with a long trail off, and more rumbling from upstairs again. Then rustling noises like those at my former putative rooming house residence started outside my door, and then a bright plasma flash over the keyboard and desk. And now, more sunlight level fluctuations. Clearly, this moment is a big event, but I wish I knew why.

I am due for a 7 item shopping outing shortly and I am already bracing myself for a full gangstalker press, even if the store is only 3 minutes away. The perps have been depleting my recall as to my shopping list items for a long time now, and they only want certain items to be in the basket with others . I suspect this is the color games all over again, and it is most annoying to be screwed like this. Even my backup habit of remembering the item count of the shopping list gets "forgotten", when in the past it was a reliable method of recall.

Physical shopping lists also regularly messed with; I am controlled to "forget" the list, or I am messed with in reading it, and cognitively retaining the meaning and presence of what is listed.

Another planted perception that has been playing big this week is the notion that I may "forget" to attend one of my appointments this week. This is based on being screwed over last week in "forgetting" a doctor's appointment, and as I had two extra events this week, the perps have made certain that I have forgotten, and then remembered, heightening the paranoia they seeded last week.

And the outside noise level has increased again, and is sticking with loud muffler perforated VW vans and 2 cycle motorcycle noise, one after the other, while all the other street noise has gone nearly quiet. The usual controlled mouth noises are continuing, as are the faux cause neck cricks that have begun in earnest in recent months.

On the managed synchronicities side, the topic of joint creaks and cricks came up a yoga yesterday. I assume this was for some kind of correlative energetics assay over mentioning this topic as this particular noise "source" is an all-the-time issue now, and one for which I am managed to be annoyed over.

Back from my grocery shopping and the usual gangstalker plagued activity. They put one granny on me three times, the last time getting to within inches of me before I saw her coursing at my back, intending to walk behind me when there was no space to do so until I moved. Then six gangstalkers were placed around me when selecting the sprouted wheat tortillas (brown color) and so it went. There were at least three changed-up grocery items usual; only a half sized chicken, no bulk cereal (now in a box), and Dawn detergent in a blue-green color instead of the Dawn Oxi in an ink blue. All three of these items have been every-time items/sizes in purchases in at least three different grocery stores over the past four years, and have been modified for the first time as of today. Not that I care a whole lot, but it does signify more testing by the perps who rule the roost on all things related to my diet.

When they first harassed me it seemed that this experimentation was all about my food and what I bought, and I could not figure it out as to why this was so important to a secret agency with untold resources. After a year of seeming food/diet harassment, and then some scripted events, was I allowed to determine that the harassment was at least about mind-control research. Then I began a huge effort in re-assessing my past as to what was authentic, and what was scripted by the perps and their shills. By extensive evaluation, and with some more planted schemes as to how far back this went (since birth), was I able to appreciate the utter depravity and magnitude of this harassment and gangstalking. Talk about living under a black cloud, it was arranged for me at the outset.

More overhead clunking until I yelled at the assholes above me, or wherever they are, and that ended it for the most part. I would never of been so bold do this until the harassment began, as it would of embarassed me. Not any more, I have become bold as brass sometimes, which suggests this newfound assertion isn't my idea in the first place.

And I am lapsing into a torpor again, so it is time to stop journalling and get on with dinner.

I see that some of my journalling was lopped off. Nothing too much of note, but I attended the above mentioned concert of Micheal Kaeshammer and Holly Cole last night. It was a good show, and while I own at least three Holly Cole CD's, I haven't kept up with her since all this harassment overtook everything. Perhaps the intent was to test me for recalling her older material, some of which she sang last night.

I had my usual consort of gangstalkers and their organized fidgeting, as well as many early-leavers. And mysteriously, the entire row in front of mine was empty; at least 15 seats, while elsewhere, there was only availible seating well behind me. The "plasmic fog" settled in some 25 minutes into the show, and never left. It is a hashed and speckled appearance to all objects, and that includes the air (aka vacuum). There were some early mid-venue white plasma flashes, some 20' across, under the cover of a photographic flash, except no photographer. As usual, there were the pop-ups (audience members propping themselves up, and then seating themselves as before), the lean-forward games, the persistent head or back scratchers, the hat waving bullshit (as if too hot, which it wasn't, and then he puts the hat back on!), the shoe games (placing one's feet in the empty seats in front), and at least one who changed seats, leaving his supposed wife beside him, and then sits closer to me so he could put on more fidget action in coordination with his fellow operative in front of me (moving legs or arms together, mutual head scratching etc.).

I had my on-street lead-ahead gangstalker who proceeded me to the theater also "show up" at intermission, making sure to plant himself in my view. The skinheads, the clean bald males, were well represented, and I even had one on stare-at-me duty while he was ascending the stairs, as I had an aisle seat. He did look familiar, and might of been a morph-over of one of my regular gangstalkers from the last apartment block, back to 05-2005, and has been circulating ever since.

And yes, it was a fine show, despite the operatives' antics, and who knows, maybe Holly Cole's brown colored outfit was also a choice of the perps in their attempts to popularize this color in my psyche. There were some matching color brown outfits proximate to me, but I try to not get too excited about all this, as it has been going on for so long. Red garments among the audience also played big, and I am sure that this was highly organized as well.

I will call this a posting, and if ambitious, or if I am fed plenty of perp activity, I will blog today's events, that I am sure will not be too exciting, as it looks to be a shut-in day for the most part.

Thursday, June 21, 2007

A Photogenic Day

And a busy day too, with both yoga and strength training and the walking between them. I was moved, or more likely mind-controlled, to be motivated enough to take photos as I was transiting from my place to the OB Rec. Center for the latter activity. This had been in mind for months; to take my camera out and take pictures of the weirdness going on; the color coordinated vehicle clusters, and the color coordinated vehicles and ambulatory gangstalker combinations, as well as the Big Tower, a putative residence tower with enough aerials on it to supply a battleship. With any luck, and that includes possible perp manipulation of my digital photos, I will post a few in future blogs. There was a past "problem" in this respect, but perhaps the Google ownership has "fixed" the problem.

But there were less color coordinated vehicle clusters today, with my camera in hand. Only one group of three red colored vehicles, with a fourth slipping in after I pressed the shutter, and after one became obstructed.

It has been a high red, or red color derivative day, which includes the regular news sites I visited before going to yoga. Later, all five women in the yoga class were wearing something red, rose or burgundy, and the only other male came late wearing tan (light brown) shorts with a navy blue shirt, and was located in my once usual location. It was a good workout, and seemed especially perp arranged when doing a difficult pose and a helicopter noise (Bell 206B) came from outside, and in combination with seeing the ghastly backlit reddish dyed hair of the woman next to me. I swear the perps keep on placing red or near red dyed hair around me purposefully. And I don't know quite how that I don't like the color-object (red hair) combination, but I don't. I usually find dyed hair to be annoying in some way, perhaps its irridescence or maybe it is because only particular sensitive color combinations are placed proximate to me as a matter of course. Who knows.

This woman is "featured" often enough, or planted in my way after class, and the perps keep planting romantic notions about her afterward. As I have stated before, I have no romantic notions with this billion dollar per year black operation on my back, so I don't know why the perps keep harping on this particular unrealistic scenario. Last week at the start of the classe, there was a setup when I mentioned her name as a possible latecomer, and that I didn't want to take her usual location. Then, at that very moment of name mention, she arrived at the door. Another designed coincidence to be sure, but I have no idea what the perps were looking for in this instance. In speculative terms, she could be a morph-over of someone I know from the past, but there are no similarities I can discern.

In the morph-over games, the perp's operative/gangstalker sometimes will retain some common features of someone I know, height, posture, head shape etc. but the face will be different. Similarly to the above "coincidence", I will mention the name of the person in mind, or under my breath, and true to form, that is the very instant the perp operative turns his head toward me, not quite making eye contact. Again, I don't know why this happens, but there are at least three to five of these events per week.

And there were at least two "stand there" sentries for each of my two transitings today. Interestingly, one was placed under a burgundy leafed tree in a white shirt and off-white pants in a N. to S. street cardinality, and the second was on a E. to W. cardinality street in a white shirt and light colored pants, standing on the ashphalt street surface with a leashed dog on the concrete sidewalk, also with a white derivative fur. (Go figure).

I have been getting the overhead pounding again for the last hour; this is a concrete building and yet "somehow" it happens, often in a noisestalking way by following an unbidden thought that occurs. (And as I typed that, a maser beam pulse flew between me and this LCD display I am looking at). Though, the perps were at it last night as soon as I got into bed; the pounding moved to over top of me, as it is doing at present, and covered the vertical to horizontal transition period, one that seems fraught judging by the pounding and other coincident noisestalking and the odd plasma strobing at that time.

I haven't quite figured out what is going on with the afternoon strength training class. We are to work out on the machines or free weights for a half hour, and then convene in the exercise room for floor exercises and finally stretches. As it "happens", there are often one or two class members who don't come for the latter session, but presumably, continue to work out independently. I can only assume they are on deep gangstalking duty, and are performing in this capacity through the wall.

And besides a red color day, the perps laid on the mid-blue color, most noticeably at the OB Rec. Center when doing strength training. There were three of them with the same color of blue shirt; one who regularly came by when I changed location, another young man with his two pals laying on the backslapping and other physical expressions of (faux) bonhomie. Then the third person was a class member, one who has shown up in yoga, but seems to have dropped out. She must be the gangstalker applied to determine commonality of my energetics between the two locations. And it is likely that she is a morph-over of someone I know from the past, as the perps are using this strategy more often of late.

There were at least three mid-blue vehicles parked outside, visible when working out, and plenty of same colored blue recycle boxes were also out on the streets. And the same colored blue paint "spill" on the street is still there, as is same colored plastic garbage that manages to persist. I wasn't wearing a mid-blue color when working out today, so I can assume that my mid-blue workout jacket's color energies were detectable by the perps on my teal blue wind-block vest. This is common; the colors of adjacent garments in the closet are also "featured" in the gangstalking scenarios.

(And as I am writing this I am getting a boom box rattling this place, and the overhead hyperactive rumbling noise also kicked in at the same time).

And it was a day for electric bicycles today; two were in racks outside this apartment building, and a third one joined them on my last return. Two were silver-grey and one was mid-blue. And I saw at least one in transit when walking earlier. Again, this is an inordinate coincidence, and who would leave something this valuable outside?

I also got the bicycle on the sidewalk treatment again; a red helmeted native Indian, and then he pulled some amazing stunts like cutting over to a steep grassy bank to go around a bus shelter where at least two operatives were standing, and then continued on the sidewalk. Then, on the tail end of the same leg of my journey, he "shows up" again, walking toward me with his bicycle. It is patently absurd that anyone would be making this journey as a round trip, as he had already passed a shopping center when he went by me. The perps have a continuing fixation on planting bicycles in my proximity, and aren't too concerned about keeping a cover story straight anymore. This, in a city that has a considerable amount of bicycle lanes, usually carved out from extant vehicular traffic lanes, and very likely at the behest of the perps who have a boundless fixation over concrete and asphalt road surfaces and direction of transit.

I also got extra ambulatory gangstalkers when I was out today; the usual suspects, the "plastic bag people" (toting white plastic shopping bags for unusual lengths of time), the skinheads (shaved males, usually with extra reflectance added on), the vagrant with shopping cart acts (the shopping cart is full of plastic bottles and bags plus aluminum cans, the wheelchair acts (some even looking healthy with no limb atrophy), and a few more demographics that are always paraded around me. A constant and predictable clusterfuck anytime I am out in public.

More noisestalking, and in addition, the smelly socks odor is being jammed up my nose, often in concert with the noise.

This is the summer solstice, and as far as I can tell, nothing too nutty (per above) has transpired. Once, when out hiking on the day of the Winter Solstice, the perps put on some 16 gangstalking parties on trail when there was about half that number of vehicles in the parking lot. It was also the last weekend before Christmas, one of the heaviest shopping days of the year. And one member of one party looked suspiciously like my in-town brother, right down to the same smirk at me as we passed by each other. Later I asked him about this and he was rather evasive. I then asked him how he got there, and he wouldn't answer me. Some of these little "question periods" get interesting with him. I once asked him if I was the only one being hounded in Victoria, and he said something like, "I don't know", which (IMHO) was an indirect admission that this orchestrated hounding is happening. Of course I wasn't allowed to understand that nuance when I was talking to him, and add further questions, as it was only later when I was back at home did his nebulous response suggest his knowledge of my harassment.

I did get my hair cut today, and perhaps that was a consession to adding extra activity onto the Summer Solstice. I had finished up at the OB Rec. Center, and walked back to the usual stylist I use. I wonder how much set up was involved with that business, as I began going there as it was close to the hospital at the time. It is yet another business that has been arranged on the thoroughfare that leads to downtown Victoria where I now live.

Time to blog off for the day as the emanations off this LCD panel are getting intense, never mind the constant plasma games that are also going on.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Back to Mattress Stalking

The mattress stalking stunt is having a reprise; two have been placed in the hallway one apartment away, and no ostensible cause like moving has been arranged. In other words, no cover story, and that includes the placement of the steel bed frame in the hallway, the displaced stroller (outside my apartment in the hallway) and the extra large, non-native pinecones (read, brown color) stashed in the carry section of the stroller. Who would ever put non-native 12" long pinecones in a stroller and leave them there for over 6 weeks, except on a weird mission, like overtly harassing the fuck out of someone's life after doing this covertly for over 47 years?

Regular readers will recall that a mattress was placed some 12' away outside my room at the last residence location, the putative rooming house. The mattress was rotated and/or moved about for the next four weeks until it "disappeared" in the night. Its arrival and placement was equally mysterious, again, in the night. And mattresses are a regular gangstalking accouterment, usually stacked in the boxes of gangstalking pickups, the vehicle usually black, silver-grey or white colored. And of late, the perps have dropped the pretense of mattress packing as a end-of-month moving pretense, and usually have one such cargo carrying cehicle every outing that I make. What is that expression, the more things change (e.g. moving residence location), the more they remain the same (similar gangstalking methods revealed).

It was a laundry day today, and there is nothing like that activity to bring on perp games. The above mattress, bedframe and stroller placements in the hallway were readied some two days ago, and the noisescape has been significantly enhanced this morning with backup beepers, car alarms, air pressure release hissing from buses and garbage trucks, and a host of other "coincidences", with a full barrage occuring when I was folding my clothing on the bed. There is likely many goals the perps have about laundry and clothing energetics interaction, but it seems that it brings out the inanity of the perps in full.

Another related stunt was having the washing machine "leak" again, a cupfull or so on the floor of the laundry room. I told the building manager last time, but he made a point of not doing anything about it. Translated, this stunt is to run longer, so forget it, it won't be fixed anytime soon. The "problem" had" self corrected" for a few weeks, but has now returned.

Before I moved here I took my laundry to a laundromat, and a woman I named Goth Girl was the attendant, and she provided many tales related to harassment activity. And now she begins to "show up" in gangstalking, now twice in a week, in the locations that I frequent, during her putative work hours. Whether or not her appearences are related to laundry activity I have no idea, but there are no coincidences in this life as a Targeted Individual.

I am getting the crumb arrivals in greater frequency of late; they "happen" to show up on counters, sink, my fingers, cupboard doors, and have taken on the added property of being difficult to move or pick up. As if by magic, my fingers "miss", and the crumb either is returned or else my fingers are being dithered by remote means. As always, crumbs also serve as maser loci point, and invariably fire a maser or a small plasma beam at me, sometimes in unison. i.e. all crumbs on my plate will jointly shoot brown plasma beams at me. And to add to this inanity, I am also getting wood slivers from nowhere arriving on the carpet. I can only assume the perps are wanting me to touch the carpet as well, and in some way, energetically interact with the item, and its retained (from the carpet) and natural colors.

I got a siren show immediately before lunch, and two separate instances (serial form) of sirens while eating it. As mentioned before, the perps like to have me eat brown food, and have taken this opportunity to noisestalk me in pre-meal and during my meal with the same noise that was terminated locally, though I did not see any emergency vehicles.

Overhead tapping noise has started up while I am being contained in a near sleep state while sitting at my PC and reading more of Chasing Phantoms, the downloadable PDF file about abductions and mind-control, which usually occur together, although not usually mentioned. It is rare that an abductee comments on how relaxed and cooperative they were, which to me, spells mind control, as no one in their right mind would be like this.

I noticed that this blog journalling is getting spoofed for spelling mistakes after the fact, that is, when I am not accessing it, and while it sits on this PC or the Blogspot server, wherever the file resides. In other words, all these spelling mistakes are not my own.

And another jerkaround was also pulled earlier, where I got mind-fucked into "thinking" that the above used word "mattress" was spelled with one t instead of two t's. So I had to repair that damage, and this is how it goes, even for an ace speller. I am not allowed to spell words correctly, and especially not type them correctly, as the typo count is way too large for me to be doing this by myself, let alone the consistent nature of the "typos". One example it repeating the same mistake in placing a certain two letters together. It never happened before, which in my book means, mind-fucking.

I am being tested for text cognition; the text of this and my the websites that I have concurrently open has been altered from the initial size and spacing to a compacted form, densified if you will. This has been going on for months, and they like to pull this when I revisit the site, opening the tab or window up after being away from it for a time. And I assume this game is all-important, as it has been going on for so long. Another likely supporting game is what I call "text mashing"; scrambling various pieces together in an unreadable melee. Dialog boxes that are not boxed, just the text displays to confuse me. And then in Blogspot, having the choice of labels sitting on the text above it.

I got the hallway nattering that went on for an hour; another unlikely scenario where two individuals in an apartment block have an extended discussion, outside my door of course. It is not quite as bad as the putative rooming house as the last residence location, but just as mysterious in rationale.

In the course of reading about Carissa Conti and her travails at the hands of some very strange and managed events (The Vortex), I learned that young children and pets are the most sensitive to psi energies and the presence of unseen others. And it is certainly true for her cat, which wigged out anytime there was a poltergeist-like event imminent. (And as I type this paragraph up, I got a noise flurry, and a car alarm that has been on for the entire time, and one that happens to violate the restrictions on the alarm duration). And her observations lend credence to why pets and children are so often used by gangstalkers, and that the perp's expectation is that these groups of beings have more of the psi energies apparent, with the expectation that the same conditon/energies can be detected in me.

And for that one, the perps had it all planned a long time ago, as my daughter is now 17 y.o. and they had plenty of interaction time to be stalking me over. Yet again; been there, done that, so why am I being fucked over for someone else's research problem?

And so it goes, being a doormat for the perps to fuck with my life, all the time they are shooting masers and plasma beams around me, scripting my every utterance, broadcasting my personal history to all and sundry, and hounding me with noise and gangstalkers all the time. Last week at yoga as part of the check-in, I said something like, "... and no complaints of an organic nature", (meaning personal health) and they all laughed (oddly IMHO), as how did they know just what my situation is? Admitedly, I did tell the instructor once in (scripted, likely) conversation before or after a class, in brief about my harassment lifestyle, but no other party was in earshot, and at no time has any class member ever talked to me about anything, let alone social lifestyle.

It is amazing that my yoga classmates all knew about my state of harassment, and even more stunning that they found humor in it. This had to be scripted, or even mind-planted among them, to all individually have the same reaction. I have had a few of these group laughter sessions in the past, and they all seemed equally weird when everyone finds the same innocent statement to be funny. An extension of this is the communal smirking game, though to be honest, there has been some recent diminuition of this. A related experience is the stare at me games, though for the most part the perps have gone for shorter, and near normal social durations. Yesterday, they put three of these staring episodes from three individual operatives together inside of a minute, so perhaps they are now going for quantity.

I am getting the dusk onset stroboscoping, something that does not have any ostensible cause, save the improbability of aiming a white light window reflection flash at me from a residential tower consistently at this time of day. And also, the source has the amazing ability to stop when I am looking in the direction of where it might be coming from. And immediately before this "eruption" the phone rang from an automated calling center, my only phone call of the day. Another amazing coincidence.

I am getting the remotely applied "discomforted" sensation; a generalized feeling without any specific causal. Yet another of the "never before" planted sensations that have only become a reality since overt harassment began in 2002. There might be another purpose to this, and I have yet to be informed of it.

There are more recall games going on; in reading Chasing Phantoms as an Adobe PDF file, it jumped me to the wrong location and I happened to be merrily reading along, and then eventually encountering something familiar, but I wasn't allowed to think it through. Then again, and finally I was let in on the fact that the perps started me 50 pages back of where I had finished to in an earlier session today. More mind-fuck games, and getting me at very fundamental levels of recall, and even of consciousness.

And I got some more strange direct lighting in this E. facing apartment when the sun was setting in the W. There was no apparent source, and the direct light was splashed on the desk in front of this LCD panel, on the panel and on the wall behind it. More games for small minds, though in fact, there is a day to day consistency in these strange effects and their timing and contingencies that belies the fact that the perps are more than just rampant juvies as I often characterize them as.

I had something momentous to write, but "somehow" I lost the thought, which translated, means mind-fucked.

And more reading of Chasing Phantoms has struck a resonant chord, especially the numbed out and emotionally bereft, if not abusive, family situation. And I sense, as the author does, there were likely mind-control behaviors embedded in the family interactions. And when any part of the story is particular relevant to my own experiences, the noisestalking starts up, even construction percussive noises at this time of night.

Time to blog off and call it a day.