Monday, November 26, 2007

Overhead Concrete Floor Pounding Again

The overhead pounding erupted the instant I read the word "summary" from a stereo component review, and I am now getting the faux neighbor water use noise, always louder than my own of course, as I type this. I had a siren noise just before that, and whatever else that I am not allowed to recall.

As it so happens, the pounding wasn't enough of an intrusion so the perps have added a rattling noise along with it, as if something is rattling in my apartment, even though there is nothing that would make such a noise from the location is is assigned. One of those noises of no origin, and for some reason they do this; though 80% of the time there is a putative source. And lets not foreget that there is at least 6" of concrete above me, and a carpeted apartment, so how the perps can assign such a thundering row to "neighbors" is patently ludicrous. All part of an active Monday today, which is rare for them to script for me.

More weird dreams last night; the planted dream topic was Depleted Uranium (DU) weapons and ammunition. This has to be totally planted as it is far too technical to become a dream topic. Never have I ever even come close to such a dream topic until this past year when the perps decided to up the "dream content" for their own nefarious reasons. I had read about them in recent days, true, but this is not the kind of item that slips into subconscious thought, save for the machinations of the same assholes who woke me up to hear more noise in the night.

I did my "volunteering" at a certain office today, working on a collosal spreadsheet in Excell, and then dealing with myriad strange cursor and unhandle-able and nonviewable characters to keep me pissed off for much of the time. And just below the threshold of walking out on this tiresome sabotage gag, surviving three hours of progressive fuckery. I could tell the perps could tie me up in more complex mind-fuck knots, as they surely gained on sabotaging my capability from last time. This, along with blocking certain pop-up boxes and other features of Excel, along with seeding extra doubt, made for a poisoned experience.

It is always interesting to note the planned background noises in the office as I cut, paste, type, select and the rest of the typical Excel spreadsheet activity that takes place. There is the excessively loud serial sneezing, chatter, photocopier only 10' away, and paper cutter use. The most featured background stunt was a German accented male, who could be heard through the entire office. He would speak in English, lapse into German, and then back to English, and must of spoke for over 40 minutes overall. I have noted the perp's campaign to place me around non-English speaking people in the past, and this one seems to be part of the arrangements as before. Again, I have no idea why the perps are doing this, but it would seem that separating language comprehension from voice processing in the brain could be a likely explanation.

Then, one of the executives from the volunteer's night presentation of two weeks ago came with a supposed volunteer woman looking for something behind me, which then gave the woman the opportunity to plant her copper colored vinyl handbag some 6" from my face, in the all too familiar "accidentally on purpose" stunt. There I was, public bait for the perp's plastic testing games, and the copper color is of intense interest these days. They even put on the copper colored Volvo V70 in the nearby parking lot for me to see on my way to the office. This particular model year was one of Volvo's better looking designs before they "jelly beaned" the shape in 2002. So, it would seem that the perps like to test me out on a favored item in their selected color, and then later flash a same colored item in vinyl in front of me.

I also got an earlier vinyl exposure, a raincoat act when it had not been raining, this time at the always-stalked tortillas section of the nearby supermarket. A woman in a long dark blue iridescent vinyl raincoat was standing on sentry duty, and didn't move much, not even to fake shopping while I was picking up the tortillas and 12' further along the cooler case, goat's milk.

This morning's grocery shopping was a Chicken Run, one of the most gangstalked shopping events there can be. And it didn't matter that I was there before noon, as there was plenty of street action as well as the faux Amnesty International canvassers who were at the entrances in red shirts and white plastic binders, making out that they were legit. To me, it is just another event where they keep the same operatives outside the store, in effect, sentry duty, and with a reference color and item in hand. There is no question the perps have been keeping up their plastic exposure games in the same color schemes that they dress and coordinate their gangstalkers and gangstalking vehicles in. I, like many TI's, have found the actions of Amnesty International to be evasive and execrable with respect to taking any interest in nonconsensual human experimentation in supposed democracies. There is more to their success than meets the eye IMHO.

There was a sudden influx of customers at the checkouts "just" before I got there, and so it came that the least shortest line was where two freaks were in place for me. A white haired granny with a blue hairnet was taking excessive amounts of time, and immediately in front of me was the much loathed, by me at least, hair-do with corn row braids. I cannot stand the sight of corded or corn rowed hair, and here she was, the next "customer" for an extended wait at the checkout. I am getting at least one of these hair-dos every outing now. Following me at the checkout was the middle aged males, three in file, and lo, if they didn't start up the "Cheers-ing", striking up yet another "happenchance" conversation.

Before that, it was another trip to the municipal composting yard, taking more of my mother's brown leaves in the green plastic tarp and the black plastic bags. This meant stuffing the Ford Escape's small rear cargo area and the back seat, and then suffering the inevitable "spill" so that there was a carpet of brown leaves behind me in the driver's seat.

A new gangstalking ploy that is becoming evident is what I call "emulatory actions"; doing the same or similar thing as I am in close proximity. Today, it was the white pickup that zoomed in from behind us and then backed up parallel to us at the municipal dump with a dark green vehicle in between. At the gym, it is usually four or more members within 20' lifting weights with the same timing as mine; as I lift up the weight, so do they, likewise for lowering the weights. With the amount of coverage they have on me, there is usually one in sequence with my motions at any one time, and any countermeasures by varying my timing are defeated.

While at the grocery store, the perps also put on a new style of gangstalking; they had me return to the same location which made sense, as I was looking for an availible checkout (sans weirds and freaks), and lo, if one of the male gangstalkers didn't erupt from the very same aisle as before, and turn and head the same direction, in lead-ahead gangstalk mode. Almost as if it were replaying a film again; same guy, same moves, at the same location, before and after loading up with groceries.

And similarly, the character named Fred, an apartment manager at my last apartment residence, 05-2005 to 08-2006, was also on a similar repeat gangstalking. He, seemingly, is now the manager of the apartment block next door, and has been "showing up" of late in various feints. Today, in his red anorak and same red sports bag, he was rounding the corner just when I got out of my parent's vehicle when being dropped off. About an hour later, when I was returning from the grocery store, he was making the reverse trip in the same clothing and carry bag, turning at that very same corner. A "deja vu" of a kind, and a step up on the ridiculous from the same gangstalkers making multiple passes in differing locations, aka "reprising" gangstalkers.

It was a dinner with my ex, my parents and daughter last night. The usual tedious British food, shepherd's pie, one way to get me to eat potatoes and carrots, neither of which figure in my regular cuisine. It was white wine before dinner, and red wine for dinner, and I reckon that was the big color games feature for the evening. Afterward, I was treated to my daughter's creative writing on the LCD display, and lo, if it wasn't with a pink background that varied over the LCD display. She claimed it was a white background, but not too vociferously. It would seem that this was another color test, as the perps don't get me to see much pink anytime, and their ridiculous male gangstalkers wearing that color don't get much of a look from me. And after dinner when sitting on the living room furniture, I noted that the half full red wine bottle was lined up behind my ex's head, 12' behind her, surely another managed fluke in all the red color games that go on.

More oblivious time, save the odd pounding overhead, while chasing down old Rolling Stone's clips on YouTube. It is about my only semblance of escape time.

Blogging off, and calling this day done.

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