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.

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