Monday, August 27, 2007

Head Pressurization

I am getting an internal pressure on my forehead, just over my brow, which is adding to the dissonance that is being imposed. It is immediately alleviated by rubbing my head, but only for some 20 seconds at most. I am also getting the "stoned: sensation, the denergized temporal lobe "floaties", which tells me that the perps are hard at work, attempting to leverage my overhight stay at my parent's place, aka the First Feral Family. Mondays are also the days when I get messed with and not allowed to go to sleep for hours. That remains to be seen, but the stoned sensation started this morning, and continued while I was driving my parent's vehicle into downtown. Only in perpland is it encouraged, if not mandatory, to drive while in an altered state while a host of vehicles cluster around me; six red vehicles, then later, three abreast at the stop line at an controlled intersection. Then a collection of at least 8 male riff-raff when I got out of the vehicle and went to the entrance of my apartment building. One as a postman "waiting" at the box, something I have never seen before, a postman as a sentry.

Th overhead pounding has started up, and was very active while reading the email of the current dustups on MCActivism, a Yahoo group I regularly visit. Then a siren cascade with a coincident brake squealing, and now just the latter with the overhead pounding. Getting back to normal.

And more brown cardboad box packing gangstalkers, and it is getting silly with one woman packing a 6" flattened stack of them while walking through a residential area. And the moving and delivery services are also increasing their "appearances", as are the ambulatory nutters packing empty boxes and manipulating them (e.g. flipping them upside down) for no apparent reason.

And here is a strange van; white on the outside, orange on the inside, and "shows up" in different places when transiting on my two workout days, Tuesday and Thursday, 08-21, and 08-23-2007. And in keeping with a now common event, the doors are kept open for me to see, or otherwise interact with. First on brown cardboard box duty, and then the second appearance, just parked and further away.

So far, the weirdest brown colored object to be "featured" on the streets is a couch that was being packed as if a street move were taking place, though the lack of a plausible cover story didn't get in the way of the stunt.

Call it visual relief, adding these photos; in Picasa the album software, it adds up all the pictures, even the originals where so many of them "turned out" to be overly dark and were recoverable with the lighting feature. I have many hundreds of photos which display anomalous configurations of vehicles parked or in motion, sometimes alternating white and red, then a later date, alternating silver grey and red. Unless I hear otherwise, I will refrain from adding this subject matter into the blog, as it is a continous event, and it will be tiresome if I documented it every posting.

The notion of putting my photos on was planted, and I duly checked it out as something helpful to spread the reality of being harassed 24x7. I got an id set up, jhughes164, and started to upload the photos. Bang, only two of twelve were uploaded, the rest just "didn't happen". I do the tagging and collection naming for those two, and then upload another two. Emboldened with "my" newfound abilities to use this software I then tried to upload larger block of ten photos. The session ran for over 30 minutes and stayed stuck at 41% loaded. Back to software and computer obstruction and sabotage, as obviously, I am now being gamed to play the oldest perp invoked stunt going; do it twice (or more), once for yourself, and the rest of the attempts for us as we fuck you around and have you go through the same hoops again and again. Needless to say, the Flicker account is going to be one of those slow projects, where it takes forever, and I work on it every few days. And I did discover a person on Flicker getting harassed by the same color vehicle colors as I am.

The perps are constantly obsessed with me seeing the scale of everything; pictures reduced to thumbnail size, zooming in to crop my digital pictures, and of course the entire panoply of vehicle sizes that they present as part of the vehicular gangstalking that goes on. I even get golf carts being driven on city streets to "fill in" the size between a economy car and a motorcycle. The Smart cars are the biggest thing going in this city, and probably for this very reason of being a scaled down vehicle, seating only two. Every day that I go out I see at least a half dozen, and some of them are parked at the same street location each time.

A late evening, getting carried away with Puremusic again; this time the perps put a fruit fly on to buzz me, and when I attempted to grab it, it became a maser. At other moments the perps mixed the two, both being small and black, having me grab at the maser instead. Fascinating juvenility for the assholes at the other end.

A big evening; two phone calls, tonight. One from an associate of the working days, and another from my in-town brother over some orchestrated vagueness. "Moving a couch" he says, but of course I wasn't allowed to suggest that it might be brown colored. Nor was I allowed to exclaim that someone is shunting my shit around in my colon as I was on the phone.

And I also learned first hand that the perps can now fuck with my sense of continuity as to what web page I was on, what location on the page, and what was my last link (most recent web page navigation recall). Just what the sickos ordered; more ways to fuck with my mind as if they hadn't done this enough.

Its late, and time to catch some sleep, or whatever the perps have lined up for me, as Mondays are usually the day they keep me thrashing around for an hour or longer.

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