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.

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