Sunday, July 29, 2007

Browser Crash and Phone Call Confluence

The perps crashed my Firefox browser session, and then blocked the Restore Session dialog box when I got it back up. And at that moment of swearing at the assholes over this intrusion, they scheduled the usual Sunday phone call with my mother over later arrangements for me to get to her place. Then the church bells started up again, another one of those "coincidence" events that has been known to "erupt" on cue, even if not Sunday. More noises joined the fray while composing this litany of annoyances, including the chirping tire noises the perps like to script.

All in a morning's harassment, and it isn't over yet.

One jerkaround of many that set me off earlier was the planted misperception while reading; the mind controlled me read (mispercieved) "hated" for "rated" and when I trapped the error and re-read the line, the noisestalking started up. This life is a constant assault on the senses, down to the smallest of details, and that includes one's vision, as there is nearly always aberrant images formed by the ongoing plasma and maser show, and now, an object can be rendered distorted or anomalous when in fact it isn't, as the perps now can isolate an object in my visual field and misrepresent it, and not anything else. Another long running stunt that is getting greater airtime is adding colored plasma "features" to extant objects in a fleeting manner.

One example of a momentary planted plasmic (visual) aberration this morning was adding a mid-brown streak into my dark brown hair while I was looking in the mirror, though engaged in another activity. And when I looked again (trapping the "error"), this seeming anomalous streak of hair color was gone. And it so happens, it replicated the very modification of one of the regular yoga class member's hair of a week ago. This woman had the same colored brown streak dyed into her jet black hair, as it was clearly not an momentary plasmic aberration. Anyhow, I don't know much about her, but as she attends both yoga and strength training, I see her more often than other "class members", and the prescribed social interaction arrangement she has with me is the all too-typical friendly/unfriendly deal. Another one of those who seem to be highly mercurial for reasons that are not entirely clear except by orchestration. And as with any of the more regular shills/operatives, the game, meaning planted thought pattern, is to figure out if this is someone I know but in morph-over form.

And this has become a big deal for the perps, though they put me through it for whatever reasons that aren't clear to me.Sometimes, I (or the mind-controlled me) will recognize some familiar features of someone I know in a passing ambulatory gangstalker operative. Usually, if "I" make a reasonable deduction, the operative in question will stop, turn their head away, or otherwise engage in a subtle pose to signify my recognazince. And this "recognition" may well be planted too. But in any event, it is clear that this is some kind of ongoing game to elicit some kind of neural energetic response that the perps are looking for. Since they can morph anyone into any form, except perhaps across genders, it is clear to me that I may be looking at someone I know in a different form, or the similarities are planted, and it is an erroneous deduction. Either way, the game carries on, and the reality is that I cannot really be bothered as to who is pretending to be who, or if that is in fact valid. But there is one consistent woman that is utilized, starting with the Ms. C and Ms. L of the story, one black haired and overweight, the latter blonde and underweight, who are likely the same person, just in different guises. And it could well be that she is also utilized in many of the ongoing gangstalking arrangements, either in public or my activity classes. Again, if left to me, it is a "who cares" issue, as I cannot prove anything in this respect.

My two brothers' features are often "telegraphed", given characteristic features that signify it is them, (or likely so) and in a final over-the-top flagrant morphed-over event, the "character" is then retired. (For example, a hair color change for the same gangstalker, grey to brown). And as it "so happens", "I" (as in mind-controlled and constrained me), never bring this topic up with them when I see them next. Or, if allowed, then my questioning skills are comprimised as well as any other analytical capabilities by "failing" to look at them while answering the question. This never happened before, and so the absence of interogation skills is another (new) tip-off that the party in question may well have been that smirking rube on the hiking trail last week.

The former swim club thought-to-be colleagues are another group from which like-featured gangstalkers are morphed from, and if it were left to me, I wouldn't bother with any of this speculative bullshit that I have been burdened with.

A two hour session of forced awakeness and agitation in flipping my head side to side and repositioning my feet, hands, and legs before being allowed to go to sleep last night. As part of the deal I was treated to street hollaring noise from outside, as well as the special noise stunts from the supposed city traffic.Why the perps started this up on a Saturday night instead of the usual Monday night I don't know, but they do like to change up any regular events should I be allowed to notice a consistent periodicity.

Another swearing stream over all the incursions imposed over making lunch; non-stop vocalization while the noisescape of continues at greater volume outside. It never ends; the perps biggest play is to piss me of and have me "complain" all the way up to rage-ification.

And in conjunction with the above vocalizations, the underwear hem flipping started up. As I have been constrained in using the black colored acrylic fabric underwear for the past 10 months, the perps now are expanding their experimentation to black cotton underwear. This "new" harassment/experimentation vector is accompanied by these constant games of flipping the hems back and forth, the underwear being under my jeans. As mentioned in past blogs, the assholes have a total obsession over clothing color, mine and everyone proximate to me. And the current bad-girl starlets of celebrity fame who aren't always wearing their underwear in public, just may be unwittingly aiding this current perp obsession over under clothing energetics research from a distance. The world is more connected than we know, and in my case, allowed to know.

Time to blog off for the day, as the Sunday pickup by my parent's is imminent, and their PC is too hopeless (by design) to continue with blogging from there. And I am almost falling asleep as I write this, but hopefully no more nap attacks like this past week.

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