Thursday, July 12, 2007

Late Night, Early Morning, No Consequence

The title of today's blog refers to the fact that I was kept awake for over three hours in bed and controlled to do head flipping; right side, left side, sometimes less than a minute on one side, then the compelling "need" (read mind-control) to flip my head to the other side again. I was kept in a Pseudosweated condition, and my pillowcase became extremely damp, nearly soggy. As these were newly laundered sheets on the bed, I wonder if this was the perp's big attraction. And mysteriously, I was awakened early and won't be any the worse for wear. The perps can somehow compensate me for lost sleep, and do this regularly. Once they did this for over three days, keeping me going sleepless with no consequence, only added "floatie" sensations that are not correlated to anything but remotely applied neural de-energization intrusions of my brain's temporal lobes.

The early morning might be all about getting me more up time before 1130h yoga, prolonging that breakfast to lunchtime interval with no feeding, as digestive activity is a huge component of their research cum harassment, and they want to avoid the food digesting state while I am doing back stretches and twists in the hope to gather other data instead. I suppose I could ruin it for them by having an early snack, but it is amazing how often that these great countermeasure plans never materialize. Bets are on that they put another military or LEO dressed gangstalker afterward. And my plea of last week went unanswered; that was to determine why so many military types are "showing up" post yoga workout on Thursdays in the North Park Street of Victoria, BC, Canada when the nearest base is at least three miles away.

And I am being managed to be highly reactive this morning; they had me on an instant rant when the stovetop burner smell erupted, one of their standbys for olafactory stimulation, never mind that there is absolutely nothing that ever falls down under the burner elements on this brand new stove. This was a "problem" that has gone back decades; what is creating that burning smell from underneath the coil type burners? I would ask my then wife and she would blank out on me. Now I know, it was a perp intervention to stimulate specific brain areas for their realtime nonconsensual neural research. This would be another clue that one is being surrepticiously monitored, should there be any non-TI readers out there.

And today had the usual start; another case of severe Pseudosweats; an outrageous profusion of sweating when I am not that hot, and there is limited sun exposure in this E. facing apartment. But I was allowed to go two blocks downtown and make a deposit at the ATM machine, and lo, if there wasn't a nice cooling breeze outside that "somehow" did not penetrate the open window of my apartment on the sixth floor. Once that duplicity was revealed, it was amazing that the Pseudosweats did not come on again when I got back.

My brief trip attracted some red clothed gangstalkers, but the perps laid off putting on a full swarming phalanx around me this morning for whatever reason. They didn't tie up the ATM machine in advance of my arrival either in another odd relenting of their usual gangstalking intensity of late.

And I am still getting an inordinate number of dumptrucks on vehicular gangstalking duty, which was evident from this morning's ATM sortie. The perps even arranged a backdrop of a tractor trailer unit with its long white colored box behind the dumptruck, providing a white backdrop to set off the dumptruck, not unlike what studio photographers do. Why the perps do this I don't know, but they often plant oddly behaving operatives (standing in my view when there are seats availible) in front of me on the bus to govern down what I am allowed to see from my seat.

And the game of spilled Skittles gets interesting; these "showed" up Monday this week in front of the apartment building doors when I was taking my birthday cake back from my parents. The confectionary beads on the cake were similarly colored and varied. Then I thought the Skittles had been cleaned up, but today, my attention was directed to the fact that they have all been squashed, and the colors and substance is still there. Given that the apartment manager's office is on the other side of the glass foyer, I cannot believe that the Skittles games were anything less than the perps at their color games. Vigilant readers will recall a similar incident at the last concrete building I lived in where a odious red colored condom was bedded into the exposed aggregate concrete pathway outside the front doors, and nothing was "done" about it for a whole week. Funny how building maintenance devolves into fomenting color exposure games wherever I go.

I am back from a one hour gym workout as part of a class, this being a regular Thursday event. This morning's predictions about seeing a surfeit of military or LEO's (Law Enforcement Organization) personnel came true. Since this morning's yoga class, there has been no less than 8 sightings or placements of LEO (Victoria Police) vehicles or personnel on my walking beat. For all those who think this is a clinical condition, beat that. If it is predictable, it cannot be a psychosis or a related condition.

I had the usual 300 to 500 vehicles coursing around me on my 30 minute walk in each direction. Yet again, dumptrucks were featured (even with a red painted box!), as were same color clusters of passenger vehicles. Today's record was six deep metallic red vehicles in one sighting, and four white vehicles. The perps are planting more BMW's of late, white convertibles, and BMW convertibles. All this is coincident with my ex-wife acquiring a used white color BMW convertible two weeks ago. Imagine that, yet another coincidence, with the usual caveat is that there is no such thing.

I also got plenty of East Indian and negro ambulatory gangstalkers today, all part of the brown games for the perps in their endless obsession with how I percieve that color and its associations. I only knew I didn't care for the color in general, but this is absurd to be pilloried over it all the time. And the brown skin colored individuals made sure to have their mouths hanging open as they passed by, all part of the perp's game, exposing mouth contents.

After the workout "I" (in the collective mind-controlled sense), have a chocolate bar from one of the machines in the lobby of the recreation center. It is a brown colored Mars bar usually, and I eat this on the go, while headed home. The garbage can that I use for the wrapper is located at a bus stop, but one for a residential area. Today, there were five gangstalkers, "bus travellers", all arranged around the garbage can awaiting for me to place the wrapper in it. One even placed a Starbuck's coffee (think brown) mug on top of the garbage can. I cannot understand why a billion dollar anually budgeted operation has to clandestinely rag me over getting rid of a chocolate bar wrapper. It is fucking nuts. Their problem with the color brown isn't mine, so why am I being constantly harassed over it?

As I recall, this same location and situation was the scene of another gangstalking, where one of the class regulars had her ass backed up to the location on the garbage can where one physically deposits the litter. Yet again, I was obliged to pass through this gauntlet all over disposal of my litter.

The perps laid on the Pseudosweats while I was at yoga; no one else comes close to even breaking a sweat and my shirt is soaking. Anyhow, I was glad for the workout, and what do I find on my face when I get back? Some planted brown colored object, as if a rectangular piece of wood or something like that. No doubt I had this on me for the entire class, and all the way home, walking on downtown streets. This is not the first time this has happened, but it is the most blatant as it has no cover story. After breakfast I have my shower and shave routine, and I never eat anything else afterward, so this object did not "happen" to rub off from anything.

And another "brownface" incident; the Persian woman who has appeared as a sales assistant in two stores on shopping trips with my mother was on ambulatory gangstalk duty, except that she was many shades of brown skin tone (e.g. typical Phillapino skin color) darker when she was essentially Causcasian skin toned before. She at least smiled at me, and I returned her courtesy. But talk about weird, this woman becoming near East Indian looking since I last saw her two months ago.

And I am being managed to being "tired" when I am not. I wasn't up to my usual walking speed today, and I suppose the perps decided that they would govern me down. Now that I do this walk twice a week, one would think that I would be getting into better shape and be less fatigued from it. That doesn't happen in Perpland; one's accrual of capability is on their terms.

I suffered another punishing nap. This might seem like a contradiction, but this "extreme need" comes over me, and then I feel wasted and bereft of awareness once I am allowed to come out of the nap. Having dinner and the activity of doing the dishes afterward does not help lift this black cloud that has settled on me. The timing and nature of today's nap is identical to that of yesterday, though tonight's nap was half the length with the same ennervating outcome.

I also got the major "floaties" again after finishing up at strength training, and one pass of rubbing my head and hair resolved that strange sensation. It seems the perps are looking for more information and decide to launch a desperate debilitating event just to test the waters. Never mind how I feel, or how much I like it, just trash the current sensations and see if there is anything deeper might be the mindset of the assholes who are doing this to me.

I was lost in the world of French sixties pop for the last while, and I was at that rare moment of not feeling as if watched, and then the hallway light began flickering in stroboscopic-like patterns, sometimes in response to what I was reading or listening to.

Now that I am blogging I have the vision impairments back, the maser zingers flitting about (fuzzy blackish balls) and the rest of the plasmic imagery that goes with being a harassee of the first order of The Supreme Gutless Sickos, applying all this remotely, and never fronting for themselves.

As cool temperature as it has been, the perps just jumped me with a minor state of imposed Pseudosweats, as there must be some particular fascination with blogging that they have, hence they allowed me to do this. Enough said for today, time to blog off.

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