Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Transient Vision Assaults

And another non-standard Blogspot screen behavior before I get going; this somehow got posted before there was any content in this blog posting. It is the second time in three days that this blog "self-published" within the first paragraph. More of the functional decomposition games IMHO, down to the last mouse click and screen display, and if they cannot get enough variation, why, adding "glitches" is no problem, just another day at the office for the sickos.

And they were on a major sick streak this morning when they kept impairing my left side vision when I got up after being "groomed" in the last hour of sleep with near constant loud vehicles from outside for over 40 minutes. All sounds either fabricated or enhanced from real drive-by road traffic, and even the much loathed sound of a chopped Harley Davidson motorbike, the seeming most hated noise that my mind-keepers have me react to the most.

Anytime I was making breakfast, especially when handling brown colored food, cereal, coffee, peanut butter and chocolate, the perps laid on the left eye vision impairments and made sure I was screaming enraged about it, and at the same time, added coincident outside vehicle noise not unlike that which preceded getting up. The perps went especially beserk in messing up my vision when I was spreading the red jam over the brown peanut butter on the toast, and made sure I was extra vocal in geing annoyed over this. And is it any coincidence that they place red colored vehicles in front of brown colored ones, and do the same with ambulatory gangstalker's clothing, and usually have a reference colored vehicle or clothing color close by, e.g. white, black or silver-grey? Funny how that happens, and I even told the doctor once about this predictable arrangement to no avail. Just another blank stare from the clinical criminal.

Another dull morning so far, troving my regular news web sites, and invariably having the outside sourced noisestalking sound off when photos or names of individuals were first displayed or read. And I am getting more planted misperceptions as to what I read; the perps like to add, or delete, the negative conjugation of verbs, adding or removing a "not" (or like) from my reading perception, and then jump on the noisestalking as soon as I pick up the logical incongruity.

I will be going out later to the organized gym workout to join my rotation of gangstalkers and operatives, and no doubt, in keeping with the escalated freakshow, there will be some new additions. Maybe that chinless blonde with the green-dyed tufts will be reprised. The current player they like to plant in my vision, and around me, is Mr. Ethnic Gut; a large gutted olive-brown skinned dude on permanent "look-away" duty, even when walking toward me, he looks sideways. He was even wearing an eye-offensive navy blue and red striped shirt, but that got pulled the next class, and he has reverted to wearing navy blue alone. Whatever it is that I cannot stand about certain colors, and along with the past traumatizations that the perps seem to be attempting to elict a response for, he has it all. Some "newbie" operatives don't even last two classes before they get pulled if there is something I don't particular like about the individual's appearance or clothing and/or color choices and comportment. A large projecting gut creates an instant dislike, aka is Unfavored.

Last week at the gym, the perps planted Mr. Ethnic Gut in side profile about 6' away to me, all to view his corpulence. "I", in the collective mind-controlled sense, looked away, and my eyes came to rest on the pregnant class coordinator, only 3' away from him, also in side profile, and about as equally rotund. This, IMHO, was a total setup for me to view two enlarged persons, and then compare the psychic difference as to attribution and reaction; one plainly disgusting, and the other much more empathic and accepted.

The other part of the "reaction" to various unaesthetic planted objects or beings is that it is likely wholly governed by the perps. An example of this was in the morning when I pulled the window curtains back and there was a full block long four lane traffic jam arranged below with a predominence of yellow and dark metallic red vehicles. This immediately "caused", or was planted, a odious reaction to this ugly color assault first thing. I have never reacted to colors this viscerally before, so it must be planted for the perps to play more "discovery games", and attempt to trace the root energetic interactions of what may be the result of early development age traumatizations, none of which I can recall. Only one such color, brown, has been tied to these events, and that was because my aunt told me one time, asking if I recalled. I didn't directly, but at the time it seemed vaguely familiar. As for all the rest of the reasons for planting the ambulatory gangstalkers from the various demographic groups that I have identified, I do not know. The most recent telepathically planted suggestion, and always suspect, is that I was given the "honor" of seeing (read, abused by) the infamous Dr. Ewan Cameron in Montreal in 1956-7 when my parents lived there for the academic year. It is very curious to me, at an age when permanent memories are laid down, how that I have such little recall of that time, save the odd inconsequential snippet.

Here is an example of one of this morning's rage-ifying mind-fuck jerkarounds; When doing my shower, shave and dental hygeine routine, the perp had me pick up my dental floss container, having already used it, in place of the prescription bottle that was beside it. They had me open the dental floss container before allowing me to "realize" it was totally the wrong object. I have never, ever made these kinds of "mistakes" before, and if that isn't sick and depraved mind-control at work, then someone had better get me a clinical reason for this. The ability to foil my monitoring of what I am doing and saying began in late 2004, and life got a whole lot more hellish ever since. They have me "not notice", defeating my monitoring ability, and do something illogical without triggering any response as to illogicality. It is fucking sick that anyone should be treated in this way after a lifetime of surveillance and monitoring, let alone the yet to be known traumatizations they performed in my early development years. And to add to the depravity, they harass and gangstalk me to elicit deep neural responses to these same traumatizations, in an attempt to remediate them (presumably), when I have no need for this. I managed to survive relatively healthily, and without the multiple personalities that longer term abuse victims suffer from. Abuse, on top of sustained lifelong mind-control and covert harassment, and then further overt abuse to then determine how they fucked up my mental development in the first round of abuse because it somehow impedes them as to whatever future harassment they have planned. Also, they knowingly allow atmospheric pollutants into my intensely managed body (since birth), which further obscures the neural energetics correlates that they are looking for, creating more difficulties for themselves. And to make it all worse, the perps persist in attempting to continue this nonconsensual experimentation remotely, another adversity the perps have introduced into this shameless and beserk quest. This is the state of depravity in which I am contained; an attempt to ameliorate the consequences of the inexcusable and bloody-minded fuck-ups of the past, and fuck the victim all the more by taking this harassment and abuse overt in 2002. How could any organization be this fucking sick? I just don't get it.

Anyhow, the current drift that I get is I am on an extended social containment. I haven't got one email except spam, and deleting that even gets noisestalked, so there is no question that it serves the perp's needs for whatever reason.

More enragement games, pissing around with mouse control and then laying on the typo sabotage, where even common four letter words take five rounds of correction before the correct spelling is allowed. That is how low it goes; I am not allowed to type correctly, but must be continually dogged with planted typos.

Another 10 hour sleep last night, an almost every night event, and two hours more than I need. It does make me wonder what goes on in the night, and why is that extra duration of sleep prescribed for me. I was given the traditional Monday night sleeplessness and head tossing for at least an hour before sleep was permitted, even if I did not stay at my parent's place on Sunday night. It is most curious as to what the perp's need is to have me flipping my head from one side to the other, usually immediately following me plugging my ears to not hear the long trailing off noises of extra loud vehicular traffic. And the reality is there isn't very much vehicular traffic late at night in this neighborhood, and yet it "happens" any night of the week. This city is at the end of the highway, there are no large traffic arteries nearby. The level of concocted traffic noise is five or more times what it would be, and at least that much less noisey being six stories up.

More enragement games, this time while cutting meat off the chicken carcass, another intensely noisestalked event, now escalated to a rage-ified harassment event. They would not allow full motor control of my fingers to conduct this with any efficiency. Only when I yelled at them did they relent. Fucking sick that I cannot have full motor control, never mind the rest of it.

A heavy gangstalk at the gym earlier; they moved over top of the bench I had vacated to put the weights back, returning to get my exercise records book. Mr. Ethnic Gut "chased me" by hanging around me on equipment and not doing anything on it. There were at least 20 forced looks, (read mind-controlled attention) at this strange dude, 10x more than anyone else, and he made sure to cross my path within a few seconds more than once. Like a bad smell in a sleeping bag, he just won't go away, and all by design. He was in street clothes, an olive drab color mostly, and I sure this was a big deal for the perps, as it is with all of their featured gangstalkers.

The usual 600 to 1,000 mobile vehicles were on vehicular gangstalking when walking to OB Rec. Center; a few clusters of deep red, deep green, white and silver grey, but less obvious color clustering than in the past. The construction and public works projects that have "erupted" since I began walking that regular beat are still ongoing, now three in progress, instead of four last week. One of the completed projects, where the sidewalk was dug up, cables put underneath, has been finished since last week, but again, the perps put on at least six ambuatory gangstalkers around me as I walked the week-old concrete. They just love to swarm me around this corner. In another instance, on a filling station rebuild, the forms and the compacted gravel are in place for pouring, and I ended up walking the sidewalk, pre-pouring. I suspect that I will be walking this stretch of sidewalk many times once completed.

I am getting too many vision assaults while I am typing this. Perhaps it is because I am listening to Katie Melua on YouTube, my current fave, and the perps are now attempting to collect on all the music listening time, in their perverse way, they have granted me in the past few months.

Time to blog off and call this day done.

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