Thursday, November 22, 2007

A Twice Exercised Thursday

This is the day when I go to a vigorous session of yoga in the late morning, have lunch, and set off at 1350h for an hour long gym session at 1430h. Invariably it is the day when "the force" is out, with their gangstalkers all over me after yoga. And at least 50% of post-Thursday yoga sessions are gangstalked with uniformed military doing shopping or otherwise walking down North Park St., a residential street. Not today though, and not even substitute police vehicle, though an ambulance might count. I later got the loud siren show while eating my lunch, brown colored tortillas.

The sun angle is low at this time of year, and in fact, it almost seems to be lower or somehow my eyes are being messed with. It is still another 30 days until the Winter Solstice, and yet there seems to be an inordinant dimness at 1530h when I depart the gym to walk home. And my ball cap has gone missing, something that would save me from the strange lighting at this time of day of the year. There is something different about it and I cannot put my finger on it.

The perps have saddled me with another round of shaving hassle, continuing yesterday's games. The two blade Gillette has begun clicking again, per planted noise, as it never has been anything related to their shaving system in the past. The clicking noise is assigned under continual use, and not at the end of a shaving stroke like before. And of course the loudest clicks are reserved for when the razor is beside my ear. Funny how that works out. This is all about more games to infuriate me while shaving, something the perps have started up this week.

The intended solution was to get a two blade Schick system, but lo, if three independent drug stores don't carry the handle and the blades, or at least when I am there. And lo, if the predominant local online drugstore chain doesn't have the items I am looking for online. And their photo finishing has also "disappeared" as I wanted to print five photos from yesterday.

While attempting to resolve this at the third drugstore today, my granny gangstalker came to loiter at the men's grooming section, not your average shopper for these products. I was wearing a blue fleece pullover, and lo, if she wasn't wearing something similar in her anorak color. The arranged vehicles had more blue colors and variations today, once they got past the barrage of red colored vehicles that greets me anywhere I walk, usually at the beginning when I set off.

The overhead clunking or pounding begins anytime an unbidden thought comes to mind. Some things never change. I am also getting numbed fingers in my left hand. Earlier, an overhead pounding with simultaneous noise from my right (hallway voices) and my left (a neeze from outside). It doesn't get any more designed than that, as it applies to noise.

I got saddled with more toilet games when taking a crap; the details will be spared, but waiting 10 minutes for the toilet bowl level to go down isn't my idea of how it normally works. All to force two plungings 10 minutes apart and two plunger cleanings as well. There is something intrinsic about the properties of rubber that the perps don't yet understand. Hence the load of four mounted tires in the back of a pickup that made a corner near my apartment building two days ago. And there is a tire shop only two blocks away with plenty of gangstalking coverage as I go by, usually once a week for yoga.

A spate of sneezings, yawnings and plasma projections that impair my reading has come on just now, while studying the world of alien abductions and related UFO activity. Some researchers have tied the abduction phenomenon to mind-control research, and from my perspective, I think they are exactly right. How else could the subjects be so docile, even with no clothes on inside these craft? And this site, Katherina Wilson's Alien Jigsaw, Project Open Mind, is one of the few researchers that makes the link between these seeming disparate activities. And it is odd that I am continually noisestalked while reading about these topics, though the web has made them much more accessible. Which suggests that there is more to it than just mind-control, an opinion that I have come to by way of experience.

I seem stuck for what to write about today, as there was plenty more, but somehow the words are not forming. Part of the harassment experience, and it does make me wonder about all past cases of "writer's block".

Another forced "forget" in posting this last night. Posting my blog at the day's end should be an established habit, but "somehow" it doesn't happen that way anymore. Perhaps the real agenda is to post it following one hour of noisestalking, post-breakfast, as it happening as I type this.

One new gangstalker tenique happened twice yesterday; a supposed cyclist, walking his bicycle on the sidewalk (make sense?, hardly) stopped at a pedestrian traffic control at the corner of the intersection I was approaching, 25' away. The traffic control was for him to "walk" as he was headed in that direction. But no, he stops on the sidewalk, waits for a 5 member swarm to pass him who all proceded across the crosswalk, and then he spins his bicycle 360 degrees and stands there. Two blocks later, on the other side of the road, now cycling, this vagrant act catches up to me, consistent with the behind-then-ahead (or vice versa) gangstalking games that are erupting of late.

Then on the return leg of my 10 minute walk, after yoga, a woman with a walker puts on the pathetic act, finally makes it to the other side of the crosswalk, within 4' of me, and then makes a 360 degree spin of her walker, again, for no seeming purpose.

Time to post this, and I am sure there will be a noise flurry as I do so, now becoming a standard practice of late. With added maser and plasma action, something the perps are doing; layering on more phenomenon at once; elevated noise and vibrations, plasma and maser activity, jabbing me in the nuts or the feet, invoking vision transitory impairments with head movements to supposedly "shake" the problem, creating typo sabotage to have me vocalize my complaint (not a phenomenon as such), and a few other event types that don't come to mind. On and on this kind of incursion goes, all to be timed with the most prosaic of my activities, all day, every day.

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