Monday, July 02, 2007

Head Hammering

I am getting the much loathed and agitating head hammering, the prefrontal cortex (forehead area) numbing and pressuring and it is driving me into extreme fits of rage, all managed by the mind-control perps of course. They are having a rabid sick session in applying extra harassment likely because I was at my parents' place yesterday, and got back to my own place today. As this coincides with family gangstalking, the perps like to continue this activity at my place for the rest of today. This time, it is with incitement of extreme rage, and I am fucking fed up of being jerked with under the microscope of the supreme assholes of all time. The most thankless jerks going, after covertly fucking me for over 47 years, they are now continuing another 5 years of overt harassment. Some sickos don't know when to quit, which just might be one definition of that word.

As I rub my head for some instant release from the head hammering harassment, the overhead rumbling noise started up. More coincidences. I am still getting severely fucked with, and it is interesting that there is an all-quiet noise order in place, save the odd targeted noise, such as a siren (two in the last hour). It was like this for chocolate eating once; the faked freeway traffic noise, the seeming constant stream of bus noise and the rest of the augmented noisescape were all shut down when eating chocolate at breakfast. This went on for months, and the all-quiets have been rare ever since. It is uncanny, after being kept in a fishbowl of planted noise for years.

I called the computer tech who didn't show last week to rebook an appointment. He made out that he left a message, and I told him that I didn't get one, and later in the discussion he recanted and said he made a mistake. That wasn't the remarkable part, as this kind of no-show stunts go on all the time. Except this time I called, and it was the voice of an older man, also adding to his "cred" that his son was visiting. Last week, the person answering to the same name was young, under 30 or so, and had quite a different phone persona. Bizarre, but likely a test of my recall of phone voices so it too can be corrupted by remote means, much like web browsing and the many hundreds of incremental compromising of my mental faculties, nearly always intermitent. Put that in your clinical pipe for the disbelievers out there.

The head pressure is still being maintained, but for "some reason" the agitation level has been reduced, therefore, it is tolerable. And the typo sabotage is brutal today, every second word of keystroking or even hand writing is getting fucked with to force error and rewrites. The sickos are full measure for today. And I won't even attempt to update my Quicken records for June as it is so error prone and with these assholes on my back that can screw around with my perception of up from down, and anything else, it is best to leave that one alone. And of course the perps schlepped me again so I have a full months of records to update, as they won't allow daily or weekly updates. More sadistic beligerence.

More abusive harassment; three consecutive browser hangs all over going to the same website, I, or more like, the collective mind-controlled me, am on a tour of stereo equipment for the 10 zillionith time, and the fuckers decided to hang up three browser sessions. If they don't want me to got a specific website, I get the "timed out" error or something technical. And I get plenty more of those than I ever did before, which tells me they are situationally applied, and not for real. But today, the perps are on a major sicko initiative as one can discern from this highly vexacious harassment (forehead pressure is still being applied), and they haven't quit yet. And it will be an hour of lying in bed before I am allowed to go to sleep, as this nearly always happens on Mondays, post vist to the First Feral Family.

Time to call this ugly day a wrap. The perps have me browsing AC power conditioning; regenerators, filters, transformers etc. This is one of the endless rounds of armchair stereo system designing that I am commanded to do, as if they were to relent this rabid harassment and let me listen to music again. It won't be anytime soon, not with the perps putting on 10 to 15 red colored vehicles per major intersection, and then finishing up with a red dyed hairdo on a ambulatory gangstalker as they did this morning. They are way too nutty to stop this freakshow for the sake of accomplishing mere total mind-control.

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