Sunday, August 05, 2007

Apple Green Plasma Awakening

I was greeted to a display of apple green plasma when I first opened my eyes, and it wasn't the usual furtive flash, but polluting everything in sight until I closed my eyes. Then upon re-opening them, the plasma was still in place, and still persistent. I decided to get up to change the circumstances, and that "helped", as in, was the scripted relief.

This identical obnoxious color was also displayed in the form of a gangstalker's shirt color at the gym two days ago, who made sure to parade and locate himself in my immediate visual field. While an annoying color, I didn't feel too cranked about it. Within some five minutes, he was pulled from his gangstalking, and was then paraded outside, visible through the floor to ceiling glass windows that look down on the street. (This would be safety glass with an integral plastic layer to prevent shards if broken, a condition of intense interest to the perps). As this is at least the second time that a close-by gangstalker has "re-emerged" outside without benefit of any additional garments, but to do the strut, I wasn't too suprised.

Then, in the same session, another gangstalking specialist, a male negro in red and white clothing was also doing his gangstalking "walk bys". Within 10 minutes he got pulled too, and he also finished up with the strut outside for me to see, as in my attention being directed to see the fucker when I really had enough of his act. Anyhow, there is enough consistency in the clothing colors of others to that of the plasma assaults, to cause any impartial witness (being optimistic) to doubt any possible clinical connection as has been ascribed by the bought clinicians. And for the record, the current shrink, the fount of all benefits, tells me that he is treating my reactions as a consequence to the harassment. Some joke that, given that he is to send another annual evaluation form off to the insurance company who covers my life insurance premiums, and will have to convey some kind of psychiatric condition to keep the show on an even keel. No wonder he fills out these forms in my absence and sends them off, unlike the previous shrink who covered the forms in my presence.

The reason for the sick joke, as past readers, and any TI knows, is that there is a phalanx of operatives who have not only scripted my day, and every event of adversity, down to being allowed to pick up the crumbs that "arrive" on my dinner plate, or on me, and who must be surely watching and monitoring my health in possibly a 100 or more ways in realtime. Currently, I am still the focus of intense interest as to what colors I like or dislike, as well as all other matters that fall into these binary states; favored or unfavored. The ratio is about 1 to 40 of pleasant to unpleasant objects or beings planted in my proximity, and it seems that this is for some kind of "auric glow" that the operatives are attempting to glean from the favored class and apply to the unfavored class.

An example would be placing a young attractive blonde woman (visually pleasant) next to a middle aged, beer gutted, white haired male (visually unpleasant to me). And sometimes, one attractive woman on each side of the latter mentioned operative, and thereby "framing" this less desired being to look at. And for the record, I don't like beer guts, even if the perps have arranged a nascent one on me, and nor do I care to look at white hair. And it could well be that I don't trust middle aged males as well, though the perps could answer this one, as they use this demographic so often, even to the point of obvious, by having them gangstalking in "buddy pairs", usually uncommon until the gangstalking started up.

And for whatever reason, the perps have planted an image of broken glass in my mind for the last two hours, and it is not relevant to anything I know or have encountered. More of the managed coincidences again, and it is like this all day.

Another meal, another the same, or nearly so, as this governed diet is not even allowed to become tedious, per mind-control activities. Meanwhile, there are some spring stretching and creaking sounds, and the overhead rumbling and pounding (concrete floor).

I will be taking the Travelling Freak Show, called the bus, to my parent's place later this afternoon, and this will be shorter posting as online access from their place is frought with cover stories of the mouse being erratic and the PC is also meant to be slow to infuriate me.

And I have been groomed for the last hour with loud mufflered vehicles, and that includes a number of 2-cycle engine motorcycles that are "attracted" to this area for unknown reasons, save the noise. The perps must of traumatized me with this racket, going back 50 years, and now constantly replay it. And surely they must of realized what they did at the time, or perhaps a short time later, as they can sense the nature of my reactions better than I can. I am near totally unaware as to which, if any noises, have arisen from traumatizations, or if the noise is annoying in its current form. And to be clear, not all of these noises are from actual passing vehicles, but are projected by some strange means to occur in my vicinty.

And on with the perp's shit games; a massive crap that needed three plungings, extensive effort needed to clean the plunger and mess plastered on me to "clean up". Plus the shit flicking, where some "erupted" on the floor, and then some on the shower curtain three feet away. Now, the shower curtain is getting laundered, though I am not entirely sure that it will be cleanly laundered, as the perps have laid on some black colored splatter in the first week of tenancy, and those are all about loci for masers to emanate from. And as showering is a high perp harassment event, I am not optimistic that the shower curtain will come out cleaner than it went in.

Imagine; a billion dollar per budget year operation hounding someone while they take a crap, and have been doing this for over 53 years, lifelong. Its not my problem, so why am I being constantly Fucked Over for it?

Back to the noise as I scream at the assholes for yet another jerkaround. While dealing with the above problem, the overhead rumbling noise came on overhead and was extensively noisestalking the entire shit storm that they created, per above. And this particular noise is getting absurd; it is meant to emulate the balcony sliding glass door opening and closing (in a frenetic fashion, everytime), and "somehow" it the noise source was relocated to occur overhead, at least 20' from the balcony. Nothing is what it seems, and if consigned to the realm of projected noise from a control room, then it all makes sense.

Once when my doctor mentioned how I came to the conclusion that I have been monitored and surveilled my entire life, he asked how I knew, the perp's telepathic messaging being the primary method. When I told the doctor that a whole lot of more past events made sense, and that they were consistent with what is currently happening, he clammed up, and didn't want to go there. Another paid-for clinician took a dive.

And as I will be taking the bus this afternoon, and have been de-browned/de-poo-ed per above, I suspect there will a whole lot of seat shuffling and clothing color planning for the gangstalkers and operatives around me. The bus allows equidistant arrangements, so it is easier to replicate where another operative was sitting. But is does make me wonder what the perps do with their operatives in advance of this mission; are they all similarly de-poo-ed as well, and about the same time as me? I wouldn't doubt it, as they are so incredibly obsessed with all things related to shit, they could easily have 30 to 50 operatives taking a dump at the same time. I also suspect that the perps run their operatives to some extent, controlling them, and in this case, their digestion and related activity. And going one more, did they all eat the same things as I did at about the same time? Another unproveable of course, but again, I would not be surprised if they didn't have operatives shadowing my diet, and then rotate others in for a week or so.

Time to call this posting done, and blog off.

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