Friday, February 29, 2008

Copycats Over Door Locks

As I was unlocking the laundry room door with augmented noise from the perps, why, the same sound was heard elsewhere in the hallway at the same time. I have seen many copycatting actions on account of the perps' gangstalking, but until today, they haven't pulled on of the same noise that I was making. There is always a first time for the nonsense they continue with, all in lieu of them summoning the gumption to show up in person and tell my why I have been included in a human nonconsensual experimentation project without being asked.

A rage-ified morning, especially over attending the laundry, which preceded making lunch, always a heavy noisesatalk and harassment situation. Then followed a phone call from my brother wanting me to do some web enquiries while he was in transit on his garage sale beat. Bizarre, as first he wanted new listings, then only listings for tomorrow, and all the while feeding me details on how to look up on this site, name supplied backwards, and the categories to look under were totally different from what he said they would be. Just an all-round jerkaround to extract more on-phone time, a seeming advantage as the timing of phone calls is nearly flawless related to an inconvenience (can't pick it up because both hands are busy) or in the middle of an imposed rage-ification show.

Anyhow, there was outside noise all this morning while the laundry was on, and then when being rage-ified, the same noises came on louder, always timed for my vocalizations, which aren't really mine, as I find myself over reacting, a sure sign of being mind-controlled.

Regular readers will know that doing the laundry is one of the top five harassment events, and I have no idea why, except to say that it has been totally consistent ever since the harassment began in 2002. My laundry has been to laundromats, laundered on other apartment floors, held up by "others", stolen, worn by the thief in my presence (an East Indian no less; adding some brown color to it perhaps?), folded by the perps (the once-girlfriend purportedly, Ms. C of the story), had "insoluble" detergent, lint augmented and suffered a number of other stunts that don't come to mind.

And more invasive thought plantings, of late. These are often the totally wrong concept applied to a synonym or homonym. Call it perception fucking; creating the wrong notion owing to a context jerkaround. That is, the context is dynamically changed, sending me down the wrong thought trail, and then more thoughts are added to this. A pedantic example is the Vim I used for cleaning the bathtub this morning; the perps planted the notion that it was a tall yellow container with a srew cap, and stopped me from invalidating this notion at each time it "came" to mind (read planted thoughts and dithered error trapping). Then when I finally retrieved the Vim cleaner, lo, if it wasn't the same white colored spray bottle I have used for the past two months. What was the point of that juvenile fuckery all over my Vim bottle? Fucking bizarre as well as sick. And I should note, I have never, ever made these kinds of perceptual errors in my life before, so that would suggest it was of foreign origin.

A bum and suits run earlier; a downtown walk of three blocks to pick something up; there was no end of shiftless males, some in the vagrant category, and a few suits with briefcases on gangstalking duty too. It just doesn't add up, all these types wandering around, most with obviously nothing to do. And there aren't many business buildings on that route, and yet the suits were out for some strange reason. Other freak show events were fugly dreadlock hairdos, the shopping basket act with plastic bags, the walk straight-at-me stunt to force a dance as to which way the fucker is going to change direction, and a full-on vehicular traffic gangstalking. The usual white, silver-grey and black colored vehicles with a few mid-grey vehicles, then the deliberate insertion of red colored vehicles, and later with some light metallic brown colored vehicles. Plus, I get my dudes outside my apartment loitering when exiting, and then tailing me inside as if a tenant. Other freaks were at least two motorized wheelchair cases, one toting his two tone blue jacket on the back of his seat while a light rain was coming on, and he had a jacket on already, one unnatural red dyed hair job, the plastic bag men and a few others of the gangstalk freakshow.

The perps even put on an Audi TT sports car for me, one of my favorite ones to look at, and lo, if it wasn't in an ugly battleship grey. I have seen this one before over the harassment years, but how it ended up this fugly color I have no idea. I cannot imagine any one making, let alone buying this color of a vehicle. This vehicle color is so rare, that the only time I see it is on federal government vehicles, for usually civilian support. This would have to be a custom job for the perps, fouling an vehicle I find interesting with such a paint job.

My outing involves instructions on getting the bus to a distant location, and lo, if the map of the bus route wasn't minus a few major street names to orient myself. And that I had two maps up. the Google Street map and the bus route map, and attempt to navigate between them. And it "so happens" that the bus map only lists the start location of the bus, with no downtown stops which is difficult to believe. This will force a longer walk to the bus.

One has to wonder what the perps are on about; a news piece was about the number of prisons and prisoners in the US, and lo, if the noisestalking and overhead pounding didn't start up when I was reading this article. What is it about prison that the perps find so interesting that they are using me to detect something that can only be determined by making noise?

I did my monthly financial update to the noisestalking from outside; even copy and paste actions get the noise treatment, sounding exactly at the mouseclick. And there were plenty of non-standard Quicken features as well as memorized transactions sabotage, changing them on me. I have yet to know what the perps find so exciting about this activity, but they clearly are consistent. And I am supposed to be thankful they didn't rage-ify me while I did this, something that was very common at one time. And more typo sabotage, time to end this entry.

This is the vaunted noisestalk time of post dinner; when the food digests, the perp obsession from the outset when overt harassment began in 2002. For at least a year, they hounded me over this and I could not figure out what was so important about my food; its color, nature and the rest. They pulled no end of stunts in stores, having the gangstalkers posted in advance, at all the store locations I needed to go. Eventually they let me in on the fact it was mind control research. Nice of them, the sickos.

Another petty stunt was fucking the date on my watch, making it March 01, when it is Feb. 29. Four years ago the assholes left the same watch alone, but this time they "needed" to fuck it. Past efforts in watch adjustment is always suspect as they like to block it, and force me to go to the jeweller instead. All to get some face time across the street from my former work site. Bizarre, and juvenile to say the least.

The boredom is getting to me; this is a state the perps actively manage for as far as I can tell. There have been some employer arranged like "lulls" in past decades, but this is now at a 2 to 4 days per week goal that the perps have. I get some relief in two days, as there is another carpet auction to help out at. No major relief for tomorrow either. And based on today's noise levels, being constant and louder, it would seem that this is what I was kept in for. There have been plenty of faked touchings on my feet and arms for the past few hours, and they often coincide with the noise events.

More YouTubing with highly variable video, no doubt customized for me. Time to call this one done for the day, and ponder the script for tomorrow....

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Yoga, Gym and the Chicken Run

It is the culmination of the typically busy Thursdays; yoga, and then gym in the afternoon. Then buying a hot cooked chicken on the way home, only a few minutes from my apartment, a Chicken Run. And like most Thursdays the perps were all over me with the gangstalking and stunts.

One stunt that attained new levels of blatant stalking was this dude in his running vehicle in a driveway sitting outside of the yoga classroom. Here he was blocking driveway egress, and not giving a shit, and also sitting over the sidewalk at the same time. I turned and walked down the sidewalk while he was broadside over it for some 90' to turn at an intersection, and the dude had backed out and tailed me alongside the parked vehicles.

There was a new woman in the yoga class, a dead ringer for a friend who inexplicably stopped phoning in 2004, if she was 25 years younger. Sometimes the perps like to put on gangstalkers who have a strong resemblance to those I know, or even to celebrities I admire. Not a big deal, but they couldn't of arranged a much better replicate as her manner of speech was almost the same. The inevitable (planted) question gets posed in these circumstances; is she an age regressed morphover of my friend, or is she who she seems? She made sure to mention the word "hospital" a number of times, so she seemed to be part of the show, but the reality is that I don't care, and if left to my own thoughts (rare now), I would not entertain the morphover possibilites as there is no way to know. As the perps govern all my self-talk now, I can never be sure as to why all the planted thoughts get "mind time", just like the gangstalkers and shills on namedropping duty consistent with the usual perp themes.

Then back to my place for lunch, and a short web surf, and then onto gym. It was plain to me that each time before I set off for each activity, that I had just finished up in sending the same person an email, and then shut down the PC to get ready to go. This is not the first time this has happened, but it was interesting that this person, a fellow TI, began communication yesterday after a hiatus for two months or more. There must be some residual energy associated with sending an email, and to a specific person even, that the perps are looking for, and the best way they can arrange it is to have me leave the apartment shortly afterwards. That is my take on it, as I am routinely noisestalked in my apartment at the moment of sending an email, and it really doesn't matter who. Even spam deletions get noisestalked.

I had the same dude hounding me at the gym again; "arriving" three times in succession after I moved to work on other equipment. He was in white last time, (two days ago), and was now wearing a forest green shirt today. After that, I went on the treadmills where they seemed to be ready for me, the yellow dressed rowing machine users and the Asian boy beside me, turning his treadmill on and off for some strange reason. The perps now let me walk and run for 11 minutes, a move up from 7 minutes last week. The treadmills face out the window, and there is plenty of arranged vehicular gangstalking, as well as a down ramp of an apartment complex opposite. And of course, there are plenty of vehicles using this down ramp to their parkade, and it provides all kinds of perp fun to have white and red lights beaming at me as the vehicles traverse the ramp. Both the gym renovation and the apartment complex opposite appear to have been specially built or refurbished to accomodate these harassment games. The projects were started in 2003 or early 2004, about the time the perps figured out that keeping me illegally in hospital for five months was amounting to nothing, even if all the supposed patients were fucking gangstalkers.

I had my usual freaks in my gym class today, and they decided to feature Mr. Ethnic Gut and Mr, New Bald in equal measure. Each of them is stepping up the fugly colors of their clothing, bright yellow and burgundy red respectively. These are the current two who "happen", about 80% of the time, to be in my line of sight when I look around. That being enabled by remote control of my attention faculites and orchestrated placement of these dudes, sometimes in mirrors.

Other gym freaks were two negro dudes, the first time there has been a same gender pair, but there might have been a reason for that. One had the vile dreadlocks hairdo, and the perps had me get a subsecond glimpse of it, and thereafter he was not placed in my line of sight. This is a common perp tactic of having me see subsecond exposures of the Unfavored, and slowly build me up from that. And it "so happened" that I met a negro I knew at the hospital when illegally incarcerated there for no clinical reason for five months. He was friendly as a patient/gangstalker, and he and I had a few discussions about life in general. And lo, having "forgot" all about him since, there he was, waiting at a bus stop while I was walking on my way to the gym. He introduced himself under the same name as he had then, offered his hand to shake, and I accepted it, we conversed for a minute or so, he cut me off, and we shook hands again and I was on my way. At no time was I allowed access to my recollections as to his gangstalking behaviors and impressions I gleaned when I knew him then. Nor did it seem like he aged 5 years since we last met. He had on a ridiculously arranged beret, the current vogue gangstalking hat of choice.

Other games today were the usual 500 to 1,000 color coordinated gangstalking vehicles coursing by while I walked back and forth to the gym, and three public works projects were also active. There was a paving job on the main thoroughfare I walk, more "electricians" buzzing about a near completed job of crosswalk and signage, and there was another digging on the nearby street, just next to one that had recent 6' x 8' x 2' concrete foundation for a pillar of some kind. In the first mentiond project, they also painted on the white and yellow street and lane lines, and the perps got no end of mileage out of that activity when I owned my vehicle. I am no expert on public works, but I have never seen so many street works projects that essentially shuffled the deck to no substantially different outcome. Some projects even seem deleterious; reducing lane width from two per direction to one per direction, all to put in a bicycle lane that isn't used any more than it was before. In fact, the perps still send their cyclists down the sidewalk for some on-concrete time for a better emulation of my intended path. There is no question the perps like me to see dug holes, asphalt and concrete paving and curing activity, and they had all of that on my outing to the gym today.

When I stopped in at the grocery store on my way back, I got the heavy duty props while at the chocolate section; they had arranged a fanned stack of 10" 3/16 plexiglas sheets, about 18"x 30" panels as part of a display "changeover" that they have been working on for a few weeks. It would seem that the perps are still hounding me for a plastic (plexiglas type) to brown chocolate interaction, and it must help that both the plexiglas and the chocolate wrapping are the same mid blue color. Meanwhile, only 3' away, the operative was on his hands and knees "working" on the project. Regular readers and TI's will know the perps like to have ambulatory gangstalkers bending or crouching over or horizontal and close to the floor. I had my obstructing gangstalkers while shopping, but they let me out fast enough, as I had a checkout all to myself. Funny how the checkout games go; sometimes plugged up with a line of gangstalkers in various colored clothing putting on their games to vary my color exposure, and even having a baseline sentry dude standing there doing nothing, and other times, I get express-like service.

I was given the enragement games in dealing with the hot cooked chicken when I got it back from the grocery store. The perps arranged for it to "break up" when attempting to lift it out of the packaging, and as a consequence I had to pull the pieces out with my hands, making a mess of it. If there is an elegant solution the perps won't stand for it, and in their own depraved way need to fuck it up and spread it on all possible surfaces. Then the perps continued to foil me in removing the chicken skin, a task I do for them as I have come to know, as I never did this before overt harassment began. They worked me into a total rage show over this task in 2004-2005, and stopped for the most part since 08-2006. Today's fuckery amount to a return to form; intrusionistic and malevolent application of gravitic forces to piss me off in doing the same task I undertake every three weeks approximately.

More pictures from yesterday's camera retrieval outing. I was waiting at the Douglas St. bus stop when all these shills were waiting on the other side, an inordinant number for a non-downtown bus stop. The weird-to-me gangstalkers were the two dudes at some distance from the bus stop, on the right side. The white baggy pants act may be emulating some deep traumatizations related to medical personnel wearing these same colored clothing then. Anyhow, I have never seen such a dispersed crowd at a bus stop before, and almost unvbeliveably, there were twice as many gangstalkers there as shown in the photo when I finally got on my bus less than five minutes later. As a side note, my bus was to arrive on Douglas street via Hwy 17 from the ferry terminal, but most unusually it turned a corner some 150' away to make it to Douglas St. from a non-bus route street.

This is taken from the same location as the above photo, facing S. There is nothing too unusual save the dude in the brown leather jacket lounging on the olive green building. I have never seen this kind of public behavior before the harassment began, but it is increasingly common. Also of note are the two mid-grey vehicles parked in file, which may not be too odd, its just that I see so much of this.

From the bus, a "blondes in brown" arrangement it seems. Two walking about 40' apart in the same direction and wearing the same color of brown, the lead one in a skirt, the follower in pants. The storage of bicycles on the public streets has also become the rage in town, and I suspect that the tensioned wheel spokes confer some remote energetics assay benefits. This fits the pattern of having stressed metals around me; e.g. braking vehicles, tensioned cables (gym) etc.

The bus missed at least two cycles in attempting to cross the intersection, as the vehicular traffic was especially heavy to keep the bus slowed down, but after it did, some 5 minutes later, why one of the two blondes was walking in the opposite direction one block away. And of minor note, two white vehicles flank this picture, also surely arranged.

More of the arranged traffic; the two same deep metallic red colored vehicles side by side, and a navy blue ladder truck beside them. Ladder bearing pickup trucks are a near universal gangstalking accompaniment, as there seems to be some energetic benefits to hauling around ordered tubes, the ladder rungs. See this link that uses tubes for weather engineering. I suppose the differing yellows of the ladder stringers and the parked yellow pickup have also been arranged for yellow variety. The two same color dressed dudes doesn't look too odd, though it is interesting that they have the same comportment with their hands in their pockets.

Too much blue? There was something intriguing about this, but then the blue vehicle moved to block it off, and this hurried picture just barely caught the blue shopping art act with the blue plastic bags. Regular readers will know that I routinely get the plastic-bag-in-shopping-cart vagrant act just about every time I go out. I sometimes get aggregations of three shopping cart vagrant acts, where there seems to be some benefit to massing the act.

I am listening to Sandy Denny on Youtube, another female vocalist who died far too young, aged 32, and I won't get into my conspiracy perspectives on this one. As I listen to an interview of her, the perps are hammering me in the nuts. I have no idea as to what this means.

Here is a link that was on my daily web news troll; I take it to be from the perps as to where they are currently focussing their efforts in neural research (my neural state). That being my brainstem region, and the number of maser pulses they fire through my neck above my Adam's apple seems to back this up. That the perps are often playing fuckery games with my dopamine supply, as in blocking it with the wrong medications, after reducing the supply from their lifelong irradiations, also supports this research. And I have a notion that the long past traumatizations the perps are attempting to remediate without my permission are localized in this brain region. After fucking up and creating the problem, they turn around and trash my life over it. Fucking depraved.

Time to call this done for the day, and ponder the next round of fuckery; getting to bed and sleep.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Full On Freak Show

I went to the bus depot to retrieve my "lost" camera, the one that mysteriously exited my pocket when on the bus two days ago. I took the bus there, and what a freak show it was, waiting at the bus stops and viewing the freaks, all combinations and permutations of the Unfavored. Not even a starter blonde gangstalker; the shiftless middle aged big gutted males in ketchup and mustard colors were on me in lead-ahead mode (30') while a further black leather jacketed male was about 80' ahead of them, and no intervening gangstalkers at first. With these progressive distance dependent arrangement of the gangstalkers, and then the vehicles, it is easy to see what colors/fabrics are giving the perps the most problems as these are closer, while the more understood ones (e.g. black leather) are further ahead in reference mode.

From the Unfavored I had them all; big hats, large gutted males, geriatrics, suits, pony tailed males, vagrants (in a cluster of five, all of them sporting the same mid blue backpacks and jackets), the shiftless, the negros, the Coffee Corps, the wheelchairs, and all mixed in with the usual bizarre color combinations; reds, pinks, greens, and yellows. And even the traffic was backed up downtown at 1030h, absurdly early, all to have me sitting on the bus for longer while the freakshow paraded outside. And they even put on the Brinks armoured truck to stop in midstreet, and have their blue dressed dudes cross the lane in front of the bus and the location at the curb where it ultimately pulled in to stop. And lo, if there wasn't another Brinks truck parked 100' away in a 90 degree offset position once I was walking back to my place. The perps like the light grey color it seems, and have now defined the new "practice" of midstreet stops, not even the curb lane.

I got three redi-mix truck stalkings on my outing; the local supplier in their usual blue and grey livery, then some odd ones, a white drum with a blue cab, and another that is not allowed to be recalled. Regular readers will know that the perps have a fixation over planting me around concrete of various vintages, similarly as the asphalt games of yesterday.

Prior to the above outing, the perps bled me with a faux shaving cut, and I could not staunch it with a steptic pencil even. I reckon this was a "starter" bleeding, designed to be useful for the outing, and for correlation of their red color games that were so obvious. Also see the street "brown games" below, as witnessed from the bus.

My SD card in my camera was intact after the "lost" episode, and here are a few pictures from the land of the weird.

This picture is of a pink colored building that somehow came out brown in the photo. No big deal. What is of interest to me is the bright point source of light from one of the windows, a "deemed" reflection off a window at dusk time. And would it not make sense for the reflection to be reddish in color too? Never mind the cover story, the perps wanted a white light, and guess where it "somehow" beams when like this? Right into my apartment of course, all to create new shadows and other light games they like to play at dusk time. I have seen the perps arrange a 5' diameter floodlight 20' from their object of interest (my old high school science class), so if the cover story doesn't matter, why are they pissing around with "reflection" games? Who knows.

This still isn't the correct colors, taken today; the closer building is an off-white, and the further buildings are pinker.

This is one of the all time blatant dumbfuck moves I have seen the perps put on. While I was walking toward this location, an operative crosses the street 200' ahead of me with a chainsaw in hand, and places it about 10' into this field in front of a churchyard, and then retraces his steps to "disappear" as it so happened when I got there. The chainsaw is of a yellow color, as is the school bus, but where in the fuck did they get this idea from? Why, I "happened" to be running a chainsaw the day before, though an orange and grey Stihl model of my brother's.

Here is a close up of the chainsaw; total observation time of this stunt was about 15 minutes, as I was walking toward the bus stop when it began, and this was viewable while waiting there until the bus came. And lo, if there wasn't a black colored chainsaw picture online that I "happened to see today.

My brother and a confrere doing a pit stop while I was in his van, on our way to our parent's place. This perp obsession with wood, and placing it around me extends to his furniture garage sale-ing, and reason to interupt a vehicle trip. I got two 8' stacks of wood palletes stacked at the entrance to the above mentioned lost and found visitation today, and I assume that was all part of the wood placement games that are near universal on my outings.

A picture of the perp clown show from the bus; the central player is moving brown colored furniture in the middle of the crosswalk, and the perps do like those banded reference colors of black and white. Another one appears to be on jaywalk duty, crossing the street at an oblique angle.

And lo, it isn't enough to have one brown prop in mid-street, so add another. This would be the operative packing the cardboard boxes on the left; given the sheer intensity of tailing me with cardboard boxes of late, as well as the house move I participated in, it would seem that there is a referencing of one common brown color to a proximate one that is less common, especially in mid-street and behind the safety glass of the bus window.

Even the blandest building have some strange and unusual "telecommunications" gear on top, and relatively new at that, as this was never there before.

A big parabolic dish with four vertical aerials along the edge of the building, a common configuration. Too bad the perps didn't put on an emanating beam, but no such luck.

Blogspot was taken down just when I wanted to read a long list of them; funny how that goes, all part of the dashed expectations games. Then, I had all kinds of material to add into the blog, and now it has all "vaporized", read, remotely applied recall deletion. There have been too many recall variances in the past year to be anything but outside imposition. I also "recall" all manner of strange associated thoughts that I didn't a year ago; not that the quality is any higher, just more (planted) thoughts that are not used in speech, and have become too prevalent for their minimal relevance.

The rain began at dusk, which was about the same time I logged off, and got up to make and eat dinner. And I still get the brown crumb inundation games, this time on the dishes as I am cleaning them with the brush. The perps had me jumping over all the noises they introduced, even if I should of long been habituated to them by now. Somehow, that doesn't happen any more; they keep me cranked all the time when normally a noise becomes like a background sound. The perps even kept up the brake squealing and motorcycle noises in the rain, both of which had tapered off in this scenario, approximating reality. Now, they seem not to need to fake it; any noise from any source at anytime it seems, though for the most part they don't. A curious tale, pretending to fool someone, and not me; it seems they want me to notice these ongoing incongruities of conventional physicality; noise with no action, mistimed touches etc.

I am getting the fruit fly "assaults" tonight; a fruit fly drifts in and out of view, always flying in front of my LCD screen, and as I attempt to capture it with my hand, it becomes a maser ball instead, dematerializing. As this is not the first time, it really more of a pain to have this fly "arrive" just as an unbidden thought occurs, read, unscripted.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Pounding Concrete

It is both siren time and overhead concrete floor/ceiling pounding time. A simultaneous high and low frequency noises and some vibration thrown into the mix. The perps have been busy on the latter; before allowing me to sleep they gave me a simultaneous zapping and overhead pounding, and then pounded some more after that, without the zapping. Then, about 0400h they woke me up to hear more overhead pounding. Just another night in orchestrated hell.

Once up, they then spoiled my cereals by curdling the milk, causing all of it to be thrown out with the packaging of other breakfast items that also "coincided" with the morning's events. If that wasn't enough, they made sure to keep me rage-ified with faked touches, stun-outs, going to the wrong location for everyday kitchen items, then inundated me with bread crumbs again, and adding more after I cleaned them up. As the coup de gras, they enraged me and at that moment directed my attention to look at some dumbshit face on the coffee packaging that "happened" to be facing me for the first time after the packaging was recently "upgraded". Obviously, looking at faces, humans and animals all day on the internet isn't good enough, so they changed up the coffee packaging and pulled this morning's stunt, no doubt the work of months of effort on their behalf. Time to buy a new line of coffee perhaps, though I will get to know if that is possible by the managed "forgets" that are so numerous of late.

Anothe event that likely had the perps excited yesterday, and likely for the next few days was that they set me up for a $50 bill, of red-orange color here, to be placed in my wallet. This was my mother's payment to me yesterday for undertaking the recent gardening and tree thinning. The color and quantity of paper money is very important to the perps, and I have countless wallet "disappearances" and stealings to confirm that. (The lastmost wallet theft was to steal both US and Canadian currency, and while working in Seattle for 3.5 years, I had both currencies in my wallet). This would the first $50 bill the perps have allowed me to carry in my wallet since 2003 when it was availible at the ATM's. Then, the ATM's switched to green $20's thereafter.

Another overhead pounding with a simulltaneous zapping, and me, as in mind-controlled me, yelling at the assholes. This was timed to the slow unfolding of the display of this web page. I am fucking pissed beyond all means of quantifying it as to getting zapped. I hate getting fucking zapped, is that clear enough, especially over the instrangient attitude over fucking up this nonconsensual human experimentation in my developmental years, the central reason I have been subjected to this fucking ongoing atrocity in the first place.

Cue forced yawning as I type the time. This is not unusual to have yawns forced on me at the transition of activities, in this case, from reading blogs to entering this drivel as I type.

My in-town brother was to come by and enlist me for more Windows lessons, but not even a phone call. This is not unusual, keeping me in place to delay me in retrieving my camera from the lost and found at the bus depot. My mother has a vaguely stated arrangement to meet tomorrow, again, these no-shows from her quarter are nothing new, and has the same effect of foiling other plans. I will be off the gym shortly, and then a haircut after that, which is a danger as the assholes have forced a "forget" in attending to one activity on the heels of another. Back to one event per outing, should I be allowed to recall that dictum next time, but I doubt it. There are too many managed "fuckups" these days, even if there is "improved" recall of late, usually inconsequential associations that get planted into mind.

The perps are still trying out red plasma flashes in my central vision; they still seem to be testing my aversion to this, and sometimes there isn't an aversion most oddly. For all the red flashes and stroboscoping, and my instant dislike, I cannot trust this reaction is my own as I have never had such an immediate loathing of red plasma flashes before. I have no idea as to what the assholes are doing, but if past patterns are a guide, they seem to be remediating me of having any adverse reactions to red plasma flashes. First of all, I didn't know I that I was adverse to pulsed red light until the harssment began, and as I mentioned, when my reactions are also managed, I still cannot be entirely sure. Only their 6 year long pursuit tells me that this might be an intrinsic reaction. I still don't get it; why am I being remediated for a condition, a rare one at that before the overt harassment began, that I didn't know I had? Then onto other colors next I assume; the brown plasma flashes and stunts have begun, and the loud obnoxious orange clothing on the ambulatory gangstalkers has also been noticed.

And more posting of the "just standing there" assholes of late; while at the grocery store yesterday, one white haired elderly fuck in black was 6' from the checkout, and had aligned himself with the checkout line, with two of his confreres in front of me, one taking a whole lot of time to depart. He was leaning against the stainless steel surface of the recycle bins, of no apparent purpose. This would be another example of the "no needed cover story" policy; a year ago, he would of pretended he was a waiting husband of one of his checkout line conferes, but no longer. Someone in the perp command decided that more shiftless sentries standing about is OK. Which always begs the question, who are they fooling?

This is the post-mealtime jerkaround, and I got shown a new combination phenomenon. A faked burp, whereby my stomach heaves up and down and pounding an roaring in my ears at the same time. And no actual burp. Call this new terror-tory from the perps, dishing out new bodily autonomic acts that are poor representations of the real thing, by design of course.

I did my gym class today, and then followed with a haircut. This was the excuse for the intense gangstalking at the gym it would seem; these same four assholes must of wandered past me, or positioned themselves doing nothing next to me, at least six times each. One with purple shoe laces no less, another in jeans fipping his water bottle around and not even exercising, and another in white, and constantly hanging around me, returning after I moved away. Fucking rude. Finally, I went on the treadmill 60' away, where there is no room for loiterers, and one of them paraded by me there too. I also got some freaks of the Unfavored; male ponytail and bob, red hair, the shiftless fucks hanging around and making sure I notice them, and my in-class regulars, Mr. Ethnic Gut and Mr. New Bald. The latter fucker was all over me and hanging in the proximity of the attractive female coach. Also, Mr. Alkie of the class, a two time gangstalker yesterday, was featuring himself to a lesser degree. That left only one other class member who wasn't freakish, but he has this spaced-out look all the time, and doesn't appear to go out of his way to get into my line of sight. That is probably why, only the Unfavored weirds get featured the most.

The perps are putting on at least 10 ambulatory gangstalkers per intersection now, even the high school "kids" are on the job, three girls all holding hands as they walked along in front of me with three male kids behind me in some kind of defacto gangstalking posse. Fucking bizarre to say the least. And I notice that the perps are putting on a brown colored bus to deliver a team a minute ahead of my arrival. Until today, it was a yellow school bus that dropped them off, and after a few weeks it stayed for the hour duration of my workout, there when I arrived and left as well as being visible through the glass panels of the gym. It seems that the perps have moved up the color difficulty chain, and have used a light tan brown metallic finish charter bus as of today, and having it sit there for all of the workout.

And having a haircut is always a big gangstalking event; all those samples from my hair, and having this dude close in for 20 minutes. And for the perps, I am sure the red colored chair was another bonus, for whatever that means to them. The stylist was sitting in the chair when I arrived 20 minutes early, and I suppose that was part of the gangstalking arrangement. The perps like to have specific individuals sit in the chair before I use it, or afterward.

I had my constant stream of color coordinated gangstalking vehicles; some 500 to 1,000 mobile vehicles, and at least half that number parked. There wasn't any spectacular driving stunts of note today, though the perps are getting brave with putting on light metallic tan brown colored vehicles, now moving up to having clusters of three at a time, in file or over two lanes, usually with a consort of white, black and silver grey colored vehicles as a color reference set.

And I am sure the big event of the day for the perps is that I paid cash for the first time in two months; a green $20 to the stylist and two blue $5 for the groceries I needed to get, one item being goat's milk as a consequence of curdling it this morning. And lo, if they didn't change up the packaging; now in a carton and half the size, the fuckers are taking me off the plastic containers for milk, something they already did once. Fucking bizarre.

I don't know what the Dutchboy hats are all about, but I hand another gangstalker on me with a fugly orange backpack paralleling me, then tailing behind for some 15 minutes of walking. The weird had a Dutchboy hat, as did the bus transit "supervisor" riding the bus yesterday in his ridiculous dayglo vest and his Dutchboy hat with brown noteboard in hand with white paper clipped to it. I couldn't imagine what in the fuck he was really doing, pretending to log something about the passengers when they came on. I also had my weekly guitar stalking today as well; one ambulatory gangstalker was packing by holding it at the neck in it black soft fabric case, about the most inconvenient way to carry it any distance.

The construction projects on my walking route are starting to wind down; the crosswalk and lane closure job still has the MIO (Men in Orange overalls) "electricians" still putzing with wires and kneeling down on the 2 week old concrete, not unlike last week's "flag girl" who was sitting down on the concrete at the very same location in the middle of the active paving job all around her. It looks like some paving was done yesterday at this location, making it the third time they have paved parts of the same intersection. They grind out some asphalt out and replace it, not seeming to be of any purpose but to create more vintages of ashphalt, usually about two weeks apart, at the same location, and at street width length, 3' wide, two strips offset by 90 degrees. Yesterday's paving was in place for me to walk on when I went to see the doctor. I have yet to understand the perps' fixation over these two common construction materials, but it is likely key to being able to remotely harass and mind control someone while they are driving.

On another long public works project the perps dumped a small load of ashphalt onto the street while I was outbound, having me walk around the truck as it was in the middle of the crosswalk, and lo, when I got back, the pile of ashphalt was still there, some 1.5 hours later. Freaking bizarre from what I know about the street works. The perps have extended this five month street project I noticed, and are digging up another thoroughfare, something they have done at the same location about three months ago. Anyhow, it looks to be that these street works projects are being extended and enhanced for reasons that don't make a whole lot of sense.

More games in messing with my email; the counter of how many items in my Inbox has been incremented by one, to seven, even though I cannot find these unread messages. This is third time my counter has been incremented and no email has been recieved. This would happen sometimes in my working days, I never could figure out how the email counters on mainframe email got out of kilter. Now I know; I have an organization on me all the time, specializing in such dumbfuck pranks. Fucking bizarre, and highly annoying, as I will now be offsetting this from the number of real messages I get, oddly infrequent these days.

Anothe zapping with a coincident overhead pounding. How many times do I have to tell the assholes, I hate getting zapped; get your gutless faces in here and tell me why I am being fucked with all the time.

Before above mentioned outrage, there was a series of three sirens over five minutes, one being varied in many unfamiliar ways, slowed down, stopped, restarted and other bullshit juvenile games. Now a fourth siren.

Here is a piece about new methods to evaluate human hair and its geographic origins based on oxygen and hydrogen isotopes of the water that a person has drunk in recent times. I suppose the perp lead-in is that I got my haircut today, but this might also explain why the perps have a fixation on what water I drink and how much. They nearly always demineralize and blandify my purchased water, it only tastes any good within the first few hours of purchase. And it might explain why the perps are putting on tours of the Victoria watershed, and that one of their hiking trails was over top of the city's water supply pipeline. They also limit my water intake as well; I was a six glass per day water drinker, and now it is barely one. I am hoping that the assholes are keeping me properly hydrated, as I have only rare instances of being thirsty, also a manipulatable condition I have come to know. I have a suspicion the perps can inject or extract bodily liquids and even water directly into their victims, and I would not be too surprised that I am getting supplied directly by means of remote control of materialization.

Time to blog off, having cleared up a number of bookmarked videos that were hanging around.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Lost Camera

I had my digital camera lifted from my pocket while on the bus, and no one was beside me. Another of those "mystery" disappearances again. I had used it only a minute before getting off, and within a minute later, I checked for my camera and it was gone. All to be accompanied by this woman in this atrociously loud yellow coat before the loss was discovered. The camera had been pulled out of my pack to take a picture of a chainsaw placed in a quarter acre unfenced lot that belongs to the local church. The perps even had the operative cross the street about 200' ahead of me with the saw in hand, place it on this lawn, and then recross the street and disappear. This was way too stupid to pass up, so I took a few pictures of it. When at the bus stop the saw was still in view for the next 5 minutes of waiting for the bus. At no time was it near any wood or conceivable immediate use. A way-out bizarrism, from the Fellini Files perhaps.

The perps have a "need" to have me use certain devices they can then co-opt, and then these same devices must be dispensed with in their technocentric perspective. I went through this with a cell phone at my last residence; I had it as my only phone, but eventually they decided that they wanted rid of it, and lo, if the service didn't degrade and the network got busy on Saturdays for chrissakes. Same deal here possibly, especially being baited by the above mentioned bizarre stunt of chainsaws planted as a prop.

And it was most curious that I had been using my brother's chainsaw yesterday in thinning out my parent's riot of bushes they wanted thinned. After some five years of not asking me to attend to their landscaping, and having boundless free time to do so, they now asked me to thin out the bushes. And so, in using the chainsaw on and off yesterday, my brother and mother were working close at hand, as well as bailing me out on the "intractable problem" of the fucking thing only starting for him, and not for me. All for him to stand over the earmuffs I had been using and go through the designed annoyance of starting it. This after me telling him that it needed to be fixed, and he did squat. Anyhow, it was all very gangstalker-like, in the First Feral Family way.

The bus was the usual freakshow today; one of my strength training class members "happened" to be on the bus. There was a heavy Asian contingent, and even an East Indian in a bizarre olive green touque in the last few minutes of my travel. Perhaps he is the morphover of my new East Indian doctor I will be meeting in less than an hour. The last doctor, an Asian, was on at least four "happen bys" where I could recognize him, and it would not surprise me that he was more prevalent than that, disguised in morphed over appearances.

The new doctor will be upping the "brown time"; having a male brown skinned exposure for some 15 to 20 minutes, a step up from the Asian for the past 18 months, who was more like a wall to talk to. Not that I expect any different, but who knows, maybe a curve ball is coming, and it won't be the same absurdity of the past doctor visits. I am obliged to play this game, as this is the fount of my benefits. Which makes me wonder why the perps put me in this capacity, save to have me dependent on spending time with their selected specimens. And before long, there will be some "students" to sit in on the session, most of whom say absolutely nothing, and might only be there for extra gangstalking reference. I predict the next doctor will be a negro, to up the "brown content" one more time, likely over a year from now.

After a 15 minute wait at the doctor's office while my male goofs and gangstalkers arranged themselves around me, only to have a tall woman come in for the last five minutes and sit one chair away, I got to see my new doctor. He is East Indian, built like Ghandi, slim with glasses. And lo, if there wasn't the proverbial "medical student" in there too, and lo, if he wasn't dressed in the same colored clothing as the doctor. The medical student was a Caucasian male, in a mid blue shirt and black pants. The doctor was in a light blue turtle neck with black pants and some ridiculous large brown boots. Go figure, oversized brown boots with black pants. I did most of the talking, and he deferred from getting into a lengthy consult, intending to get the story out of me over many sessions. I see him in another seven weeks, so he is in no hurry to diagnose me (ahem) anytime soon. So much for this being an urgent condition, har, har.

And while waiting, my "pal" from Tues/Thurs strength training who "happened" to be on the bus this morning also "happened" to be at the waiting room too. What a coincidence that I get to look at this weird act three times in two days, and he is on the same bus route.

It is always interesting to see what state the perps put me into when new situations are arranged, i.e. the doctor visit today, especially interpersonal ones that will continue for some years as this is likely to be. They had me in a rattled and anxious state, stumbling over some of my words, and not the usual coherent delivery, and they fucked me out of plenty of my vocabulary. Anyhow, the new doctor didn't get into any incisive questioning beyond the "do you hear voices speaking to you?". The answer is always NO, (legitimately) otherwise they tag you with schizophrenia and that is one tough hole to dig one out of. As an example of how tightly scripted this harassment and mind control is, the perps put on ear ringing some two minutes in advance of the aforementioned doctor's question, and then changed the ringing frequency for me to notice it all the more. And it "so happened" that I mentioned the ear ringing in response to his question about hearing voices. It simply boggles my mind as to how much the perps are managing me, right down to how I enunciate my words.

On the walk to and backfrom the doctor's visit, I had my usual, if not heavy, consort of gangstalking vehicles, heavy with black colored ones today, as much as the usual reference colors of white and silver-grey. And plenty of blue colored vehicles too, sometimes four in file. (Note the "coincidence" with the blued dressed medical personnel above). The perps put on the backlit sun games again as I was walking back for 30 minutes, making everyone and everything look leached of color and a murky grey. It is fucking depraved that they won't let me see things in natural, unmanipulated color.

I had the usual proliferation of plastic bag bearing gangstalkers, and they even put on an ambulatory swarm around me at one location, five males "happened" to converge on the sidewalk as I was about to pass through. I also had a swarm of three motorized wheelchairs on me too, not far from my apartment, one on lead-ahead gangstalking duty. There were at least three more on my outing, and that makes six more than I would expect. It is simply amazing how many of these fucking things keep "arriving" in my proximity.

And today being Monday is heavy on the yellow colored gangstalking; this is the day I "forget" to take my yellow colored meds, and lo, if there wasn't the most disgusting yellow coat leading me off the bus and within 6' when I "discovered" my camera missing from my jacket. That is, the assholes who surrepticiously removed it without any sensation reminded me to look at the pocket where it had been. All withing 20 seconds of getting off the bus, and the perps wanted me to know the exact circumstances of its removal; there one minute, gone the next, no sound of it tumbling out or anything like that.

And when headed to the doctor's office, lo if the yellow city fire truck didn't erupt from its firehall bay with sirens and lights flashing and head down the street on a "call out". And just ahead of it, why a yellow jacketed cyclist with a red helmet. I saw at least 10 cyclists wearing yellow today, and I have remarked in past blogs how there "happens" to be so many on no-yellow-medication days.

The perps have me in a total frazzled state; cranked up at every provocation. Not only did the two start up applications clash, (read, intermingle their respective dialog boxes and windows), but at the instant it displayed, a firecracker noise went off. Talk about infantile nutters out of control; what is the cover story for that one?

Another forced "forget" to post this last night, though I did have a video session on the 9/11 anomalies and the commission's findings. There are so many oddities to this event that it defies probability that it was a so called "terrorist" event, and yet this insane invasion of Afganistan and Iraq is a seeming consequence.

Anyhow, I got a phone call later that my camera was found on the bus and can be picked up; the perps needed some "separation time" between the camera and its case. Fucking bizarre by conventional standards, but nothing I haven't seen before.

Time to post this, even if I am getting the faux neighbor noise of whining water running in the pipes.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Laundry Games

After 10 months of living at this apartment, I have encountered my first laundry obstruction. I had unfettered access to the washer and dryer, and at no time was anyone else's laundry obstructing my progress. Today, all that changed with "someone's" dryer load that has gone past the typical hour of a paid cycle, and is holding up my laundered clothing in the washing machine. Given that I spent some 15 months at another apartment block dealing with the perp's games in obstructing getting my laundry done, in an apartment where there appeared to be no other true residents, this seems to be the start of another long campaign of fuckery, all over laundry, begining with the perp's problems they have with it, whatever it is.

Each time I make a visit to the laundry room to see if the dryer is freed up, the perp add new debris to the hallway carpet; feathers, pens, gobs of lint/fiber, tin foil and so it goes, this 30' trip to the laundry room is getting more props each time, caused by obstructing the dryer, now having run 1.5 hours since I first began this harassed task. All to remind readers that my out-of-town brother bought two commercial laundries to aid the cause, and here are the assholes fucking me around over my laundry, now closing in on six years of this depravity, all because they lack the gumption to show their face. Not my problem, so why am I getting harassed over my laundry?

This morning at breakfast, it was the absurd crumb eruptions where the bread had three rounds of crumb "fall out" leaving the peanut butter and jam attached to a residual layer of crumbs only. Even that wasn't good enough, as the perps rammed my finger into the peanut butter and jam when I was attempting to pick it up. Given that I have had about 10 months of no crumb games with this same line of gluten free bread, and now two successive loaves with major harassment games, this also looks to be another ongoing front of dealing with the depravees and their dumbshit games.

The maser and plasma games are getting worse too; this LCD display is constantly banded with lines of yellow over the normal white background, and given the past yellow dye games on my bedding and shower curtain, (both unremovable), this too threatens to be a major source of fuckery.

Other recent games were planting dreams in the night where they had me chumming around with the President of France, Nicholas Sarkozy. I have never had dreams like this before, incorporating current political leaders, and until these assholes stop harassing me, I will assume it was more manipulation. And to add to this, I have no fascination of any political figures whatsoever, and I wasn't too surprised that he was in the news this morning, or at least my version of it.

On the noise front before I got up, the perps had me in a light sleep and then ran the offensive loud mufflered vehicles (aka "performance" muffler), and the instant at which I found it objectionable, clicking noises went off. From waht I can tell via the their testing, they are evaluating my visceral objections to noise volume, frequency and duration, and they seem to be testing these independently and jointly.

I was finally able to get my laundry in the dryer, and it should be ready about 20 minutes of my brother coming to make a long circuititous route to pick me up and then head off to one of his garage sales "commitments". That will be my beginning to go to my parents place for Sunday, my once per week red meat dish that they gangstalk me over, among other things.

Just to finish up on the laundry hassle; it will be completed after my lunch, and before my brother arrives as mentioned above, which is a wholesale change for the perps and their games as they have always had me finish laundry and then proceed to making lunch. Anyhow, it is all too trivial and stupid for further comment; these seeming minor changes of routine are the result of big plans, having "groomed" me for over 10 months for laundry completion before noon time. This is but one example of the utter bullshit that they find so fascinating.

And plenty of rage-ification games this morning; absurd levels of typo sabotage, faked touches, "dumbstruck" behaviors and the rest of it to keep me pissed off. It is no surprise that after yelling at them that street sourced whistles are timed exactly when my tirade ends. And too, the perps have taken to sucking more air out of my lungs to limit my voice volume. Getting fucked over in complaining about being fucked over; that is another example of this sick minded depravity into which I have been cast.

Anyhow, time to blog off, and limit the harassment over blogging this much.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

A Shut-in Saturday

So far, the motivation to head to the local grocery store for a national Saturday edition of the Globe & Mail hasn't struck. Normally, I need this reprieve from being housebound, even if the expedition is all over in 10 minutes at the most, and I am gangstalked at every corner. And for the record, motivation can be sapped and dithered remotely, something the perps could do long ago. I only have to reflect on unusual instances where I have been uncharacteristically demotivated to understand what was actually going on at the time, and all shills were in on it. Now the sirens are coming on in the noisescape as I type this, a big event it seems.

I was truly rage-ified at breakfast and lunch, but left alone in between, save the odd page deletion an dbouncing me back to the bookmark manager without even making a single keystroke for the cover story. It is call PC sabotage, and it is applied dynamically, and I assume, on a as when needed basis. How my malevolent overlords figure out the precise moment for extra harassment I don't always know. They have taken to flashing plasma beams in my peripherial vision when I changed walking direction, as a substitute for moving object of the same color such as an automobile. Currently, the most used plasma colors are red and yellow, the former getting an instant response, for which the perps seem to expect, hence the usual fleeting exposures. Though to be fair, I have no idea if my "reactions" are genuine or planted and scripted for me. I don't normally react to reds and other colors in adverse ways, but this is what happens often now. Either my post-traumatization (if true) adaptations have been removed and the reaction is a genuine visceral one, or the whole thing is faked with planted thoughts and actions. I have no idea which, but suffice to say, I am "reacting" to a whole lot more than I ever did, and that has to be from some remote mind-controlling party, as there isn't any clinical reason for this.

Anyhow, I am passing time in writing this, and getting plenty of masers drifting across my vision, bothe the fuzzy grey balls I call zingers, and the filamentous wispy kind that drift back an forth, adroitly sitting exactly where I want to read next. I reckon yesterday's helping move personal belongings was "too much" for the perps, and that they want to contain me doing next to nothing for a "rest day" for them.

Tomorrow might call for some real work, finishing this week's landscape gardening at my parent's place by borrowing my brother's chainsaw and cutting the remaining stumps low to the ground. I used his chainsaw about four months ago when digging a hole for a tree to be planted, and lo, if some large chunks of wood didn't "happen" to be buried in the hole. I told my brother at the time that the chainsaw needs to be repaired as it wasn't starting very easily, and today he phoned and pretended to be totally unaware of that conversation, and of that of his own observations as he was there at the time I used it. In typical (perp controlled) fashion, the chainsaw would not start for me, but did for him, even though he rarely uses power equipment. It was all a big game, and has been going on for decades.

I was given a half hour's awakening about 0500h all to hear the procession of diesel engined vehicles passing by, another designed aberration as there really is any commuting traffic outside my apartment, and the usual proviso that there is no way the sounds should be travelling up to the sixth floor as loud as they are. I have given up on the latter statement of reality, as it is the imposed "normal"- extra loud vehicle traffic noise all the time.

A parade of loud mufflered vehicles and sirens this afternoon, post tea break with chocolate, the latter being a hughe perp event owing to the proximity of brown colored substances to my brain (food in my mouth). The perps cannot get enough brown food in me it seems, though have refrained from making me drink cola beverages. Last night they flipped one of my leftover tortillas onto the floor, blatantly, and without any cover story of fumbling or accidental handling. This morning they screwed me out of putting the kettle burner on, something I do every day for coffee with my breakfst, and that rearranged the timing of what I eat with my breakfast. That meant that the toast with peanut butter and jam on it was eaten with coffee, and so it would seem that the perps were testing only one source of browness that was in my mouth, the toast and contents only. This is exciting stuff fo the sickos. They even enraged me over the breakfast cereal by flying the black metal bulldog clip that I use to seal the cereal package with into the cereal bowl and made sure some of it flew out onto the counter.

Other excitement so far was coordinating white stroboscopic flashes with eyelid spasming, as if they were of the same source, which they were not. As part of the exercise of distracting me, they flashed some light in my left eye to then "cause" me to look outside to see a pair of dudes moving an almond off-white matress across the 90' of open courtyard. While this was a little absurd in being the longest route to move in or out of that building, it was a repeat of past events related to mattresses. I moved a plastic wrapped light blue colored matress yesterday, and nearly a week ago, I aided my mother in lifting her mattress and rotating it. Regular readers will recall that the perps have an endless fixation of displaying mattresses as part of the vehicular gangstalking, and I can only assume that the metal springs and the stuffing and fabric are of advantage in remotely assaying my energetics, especially in response to colors. At my last residence location the perps supplied a mattress, and also parked one outside, 20' away, facing me, also a light blue color for about 8 weeks.

Another "feature" earlier was that the Victoria Fire Department stopped their yellow and white ladder truck outside on the street, and had it sitting there for a minute or so, as if it were tied up in traffic. I see their vehicles twice a week in walking past their building on my way to the gym, but that isn't enough it seems. Not only do they routinely run their vehicles down the street on faked call-outs, but they will drive their little pickup trucks around, painted in the same theme. Today's event seems that they wanted to bring the massive ladder truck in as close as they could to be seen from my apartment.

A siren cascade, preceded by fake bus noise, overhead kerchunks, forced farting, hallway clunking, outside motorcycle noise, and forced tongue use to clean out the pockets of food in my mouth that the perps pack on the outside of my gums. This has been going on now for five years or more; ingested food "magically" gets packed onto my gums for a delayed digestion, once I am allowed to know that they are there.

This is the post meal digestion period, only some 15 minutes afterward. The "problem" for the perps seems to be that digestion of any food seems to be not fully understood, as is the brown color problem they have inflicted upon me.

This must be a perp planted notion, a "new idea", to itemize all the constraints they have imposed and to then identify any resumption as progress. Here is a list of constraints, if lifted, allude to perp progress, whatever that means;
  • ironing; the perps have not let me iron anything I wear since 2006
  • eating salads regularly; they allow a salad once per two months
  • variation in diet; they had me eating two dishes, and then removing salad and only allowing tortillas, albeit with differing bases of tapenade, artichokes, antipasti
  • fruit consumption; they haven't let me eat much fruit since 2006, though they did allow two one pound bags of kiwi fruit in January, and nothing since
  • viewing movies; they allowed 30 minutes of a TV movie about two months ago, but that is it
  • listening to radio; they allowed one TI (known to me) radio broadcast for about an hour, but nothing since
  • listening to music; the YouTube viewing is about every 3 to 6 days, and nothing in between, and nothing of the 20 or so CDs I have on hand, the remainder in my storage locker
  • book reading- nothing much since mid 2006 when I ran out of savings, and "somehow", I never feel inclined to read the few on hand that aren't packed in my storage locker (I get dynamically dithered in reading comprehension) or go to the public library.
The sirens are still going on, along with loud mufflered vehicles over-revving outside, and hallway clicking, of no ostensible cause. Now type sabotage to have me yell at the assholes.

The overhead pounding started in a brief flurry while I went to drink a glass of water; this is the perp mediated water, given their "special" treatment to make it more bland, in situ demineralization perhaps. Within o afew hours of bringing back bottled water from the grocery store, the bottle gets bubbles acreting on the side of the vessel, and then the water tastes bland. I am getting type sabotage and red plasma assaults at my fingers as I type.

The perp topic of interest seems to be monoatomic metals, called ORMUS metals (also here), those from the platinum group. Then the fuckers nailed me with a stinging sensation in my left eye to add to the sensory melieu/fuckery while reading about the topic. Which always begs the question as to what is in this for the perps, having scripted the "discovery" (for the second time), and what is the need to inflict both noise and pain over this topic?

Some kind of primitive drumming has started overhead, geared to a change in web browsing topic. It is amazing all the sounds the perps dream up, leaving me to wonder if any of it has a true source, or if it is all projected from some device. The annoying red flashes have also increased, being placed in my central vision and difficult to ignore.

Onto looking at stereo equipment, something the perps like me to do, if nothing else to engage in covetous desires to assemble my imaginary system. No such luck, as they don't like me listening to music much, having taken out three CD players and three pairs of headphones.

Friday, February 22, 2008

New Pain for the Brain

AS I begin this I got a reflux burp whose contents were duly tasted in my mouth, amazing timing, given that starting and ending anything is a big event for the perps to noisestalk or otherwise deploy additional resources; masers, vision impairments, and pain, aka "phenomenon stalking".

I have a trio of ongoing pain games today; the back pain of two weeks ago "somehow" won't go away, and is always in place for getting up or going to bed, also a high noisestalk time. The baseless burn like pain on my right thigh continues off and on, and was joined by knee pain this morning, right through the right knee, and anytime I noted the pain returning through managed (read, externally controlled) shifting of my weight, why, more noisestalking erupted. The sickos seem to be attempting to determine my boundaries of noticing, hence this slow onset pain imposition. They do the same for annoying noises; they sustain the noise, and then noisestalk me at the moment I deem the noise to be annoying and worth plugging my ears for. All very consistent these days, this particular neurological function that they cannot yet fuck with. And as I type this, the mechanically sourced street whistles are going off in rapid succession; as they finished paving on the nearby street rip-up, one would think the noise would of abated, but no, it has increased.

The perps have taken to flashing me with more red plasma; even a subsecond exposure in my central vision is enough to piss me off, and they like to vary the size to see how sensitive I am to this color and all its possible physical parameters. Another game that is of increasing importance for the perps is crumb inundation; my gluten free bread is erupting in crumbs that "arrive" from nowhere, right before my very eyes. And this involves varying crumb colors; black, white, brown and even a near orange color. And if the dispersal pattern, crumb size and color wasn't enough of a game for these assholes, they added a 4" sunlight beam to cast over the plate as I was eating the toast with peanut butter and jam on it. This was another excuse to create grey (shadow) variations over the crumb field, adding yet more variability of physical properties into the analytical mix. Then, someone decided that wasn't enough fuckery, so they added a 4" black hair in my peanut butter to be extracted from the center of its mass, not appearing on the surface at all. I don't have black colored hair, and I have no idea where this would of come from, never minding that it "arrived" in the center of spread peanut butter, and somehow escaped scrutiny when in the jar and being spread. Most likely it arrived after the fact. The incongrous arrival of all hair, most often on just cleaned surfaces, including me, is assigned to the category of "dog hairs", an ironic name as there is no way all these hairs could come from me, though most are colored in the tones of my natural head hair.

My printer is under assault again, after working fine only a few days ago. It was a map that I wanted from Google, and lo, if it didn't "turn out" sketchy and barely readable. The perps have an ongoing fixation in "dimming down" the representation of things; pictures of known persons, now maps, and all the backlit lighting with intense sunlight being another variant of this fuckery. Obviously, seeing things normally is too much data at once for the assholes; in other words, the normal representation of things "needs" to be fucked with as they cannot handle it. Not my problem, so why am I being fucked with on account of a covert agency's problems, many of which they created in the early going of my developmental years?

The only answer to that is to have an over-revving engine sound off at the time of composing that rhetorical question, as if there is a drag strip around here and there isn't. The city blocks are short and all intersections within two blocks are controlled by traffic lights. Now it is time for the tree chippers to make noise, the steady hum of this morning that is repeating after lunch. Another "response" I got was two flashes of light across my wall and this LCD display, a virtual impossibility being six stories up if one suggests that it was "extraneous" reflections from passing vehicles.

Anyhow, I am off to help out a move; a whole bunch of brown colored boxes to lug and hug, and I know how the perps like to move me around, and this is one of their favorite pastimes; playing with brown objects for them to measure me with. Another example of their "problems", is that they cannot get enough of this color around me, having holed all my brown colored garments.

Start the noise, I just started to blog again; that is how it goes these days; boundless fascination with everything I do, think or say. Even those terms are absent of meaning, as I suspect nearly all of it is planted per script. They always have gangstalkers in place for every "impetuous" or evasive move I take, though it is easier to monitor me without a vehicle. Such is my lot; a playground for organized psychopaths to play with me, down to whacking me in the dick while shaving this morning. The perps have a inordinant fixation on me shaving, and this task seems to give them trouble in monitoring me as much as they would like. Ergo, enrage the victim again, and all the better when it is done in the mirror, something that is predictable as gangstalking in public, or pounding the ceiling, now in all of the past 8 locations where I have lived with overhead "neighbors". Anyhow, I am off to help out with a move, and this will likely bring more stories to brighten up my existence.

I am back from my moving helping. The big deal is for the perps to get plenty of brown colored objects near my head, and they succeeded; boxes, particle board furniture and wood all served their purpose. Then some vehicular travel was needed to drop off the UHaul trailer and move more items into storage. I was a passenger in a bright red Honda, and that was plenty of reason to lay on the vehicular gangstalking in substantial numbers. The storage moving took no time, and I was dropped off at my door. There was a "need" for extra paper work, and lo, if hundreds of vehicles didn't pass my while we were waiting amazingly arranged to be driving in front of green and white PVC pipes arranged oppositely. That the pipes were 80' away, and that the perps needed a narrowed view of the loading bay for this vehicular gangstalking to unfold, tells me they have a long way to go. This was essentially emulating the neighborhood dig-ups where they laid green PVC pipe down, only in the horizontal. Essentially, the perps have no fucking idea as to how I energetically react to PVC pipe in all its various colors. And it was no surprise that piece of red plastic "arrived" while we were waiting for the employer to finish up at the storage business office. It was a diversion, and that was about the extent of it, save the helicopters.

While moving the belongings the perps put on a helicopter to loiter for some ten minutes overhead, a large Sikorsky type identical in sound and appearance to those of two days ago, and three days ago. Later, at the storage lockers, the perps put on a smaller black bubble cabin helicopter, perhaps as some relief from using the same one. Who knows, but whoever has arranged them also knows that I like them, which is unlikely to be the sole reason they were arranged. That helicopters play such a large role in other TI's and abductee's harassment, I sense there is more to to it. Perhaps they create a votex that is of interest for disturbing other etheric vortex energies to aid in remotely detecting the few mind control energies they have not yet mastered.

Other events in the moving helping that seemed curiously strange were: taking the trailer into the driveway and then reversing out again and backing it in so the rear door was facing the path into the house- surely to fuck this could of been figured out before they arrived, like every move I have participated in before. I also had a ride in a red vehicle, and when parked among the red-orange UHaul trucks and trailers I also seemed to be bait for some young women gangstalkers "hanging around" in the UHaul driveway, slowly trolling by with a red leather handbag. The driver of the red vehicle claimed not to know where the storage site was and had to pull over and spend some time on the cell phone. This led to the unusual event for me to be in a vehicle parked at the roadside while huge streams of gangstalking and color arranged traffic passed by, and was opposite of a concrete manufacturing operation. There was the other helper, in a red colored waffle shirt, seemed to be strangely familiar, not unlike the intersection assailant last year. Then, when waiting while all the vehicles passed by in front of the two colored PVC pipes, the jawing got onto the topic of rare metals and how even aluminum ladders were being stolen for scrap value. (Ladders are a very common vehicle adornment in this city for seeming harassment operations). Other metals that got a mention were one of the perps favorites, copper. And of course I had been fed recent news stories on automotive catalytic converter theft for their platinum value, surely a big gimme for the script, something that I was screwed out of knowing at the time. Normally the perps let me run my own thoughts as to "this is a setup", or "this was recently planted", and yet they fucked me out of knowing that I was a mind control fuckee when talking about these scripted news stories. Normally the perps let me run this "alernate channel", but fucked me out of if while helping out.

I have been reading from the Thomas Townsend Brown biography site, a work in progress. I have one blog posted that details a long list of similarities between his habits in the course of being a researcher/physist and that very little is known about him. Anyhow, the perps find much to noisestalk me while I am reading the story, and I have no idea why, as I often get noisestalked when I read a name, be it a celebrity, city or geographic name, or even if the person has deceased. So it would seem that troving through biographies is a big event for the perps, and it is mighty curious as to what is going on. The planted message is that they work for the "boy scouts", a metaphor for being honest and progressive, but that is about the last characterization I would assign to them. I have mentioned past news events, many of them of tragic proportions, where their dark hand maybe at work or is at least oddly coincidental to what they do to me. I don't want to get into all the "designed coincidences" that I suspect as it is too detailed for presentation here. Suffice to say, there is a significant amount of world events reported in the news that seem to me at least, to be managed or arranged for more perp research fitting with what they do to me, or allow me to know about.

It is knee torquing torture time; that part of the day when my lower leg gets twisted by unseen forces to then put pressure on my knee joint. I shift around and poof, it is over for a minute or less when they get right back at it.

I have been getting the forced foot twitches, usually simultaneously when a new web page displays, typically with a still photo of someone in the film business, that being the nature of the blogs I was reading at the time. As mentioned above, it isn't always important that I know who the person is, the perps find that just as fascinating.

Time to bail and call this bloggable.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

An Early Morning

I haven't had a 0630h get-up time in recent memory, but today, the perps wanted the sunrise breaking while I was in the bathroom so they could play sunbeam games as it struck the brown steeel door jamb, and "somehow" cast a 10" vertical beam 1/4" wide on my upper left side chest area. I don't know why the perps like to pull these stunts on my left side so much; about 90% of the pore-bleeds and related faux shaving nicks "erupt" on my left side.

Another round of beeping and noise outside, likely grooming me for yoga in 50 minutes; the vehicular traffic noise has ramped up considerably since last week, and the grinding noise stopped. No doubt this relatively new venue is still being "worked over" in terms of noise priming.

On the "bread stalking" front of yesterday, my parent's had a plastic wrapped loaf out and positioned precisely at the edge of the counter at the entry to the kitchen, bringing on the games of last week when a loaf was placed at the very corner of a building at an intersection. I have yet to figure out what the perp's problem is over bread, but my mother put many decades into making it for my father, brown mainly, and now she doesn't. I also noticed a new front yesterday, "jam stalking"; my parents have the identical EB Smith wildberry jam that I normally use in their fridge, and I cannot think of anywhere that needs any more kinds of jam than their place, as my mother makes it for chrissakes. And too, it was about 2/3 used, another amazing feat as it had not been there before. Also on the preserves confusion front; my mother made marmalade last week but had "somehow" inherited a new half full large sided bottle of commercial marmalade. And even after she had made marmalade she had at least a half dozen oranges left over and were plainly positioned on the kitchen counter. Making marmalade in Febuary, somehow that doesn't add up, but then again, I am no expert in preserves and related fruit acquisition. The one time I took them to Costco they only thing they bought was an oversized jar of marmalade, and "somehow" it disappeared afterwards as I never saw it in the fridge.

It is a yellow shirt day today, and if the perps are like they usually are, they will be going silly with gangstalking, especially employing that same color. That is my prediction before I venture outside, and for the event, they put on a lighted yellow directional arrow sign to "guide" the parking lot users into the parkade in the city block they are tearing up, no doubt in the service of their harassment objectives. Of course the lighted highway use directional arrow was totally superfluous and was facing this apartment, and as it debuted today, it just maybe all part of the perp's yellow color fixation. This is the first time in three months that I have worn this yellow shirt, so it must be a big gangstalk event, hence the earlier awakening to make for more wear time before I set off into the public terror-tory. I am nearly always noisestalked when I put on or change my clothes, and given the perps' fixation with all colors that I see or wear, this must be a big event coming up. Maybe I should change out of it to piss them off.

I called it correctly, there was additional gangstalking on me while wearing a yellow shirt. About eight of them were lined up behind me at one traffic crossing, when the norm would be two. I also got a near exact repeat of last week's set-up when exiting the elevator on the main floor. Instead of two dude rapping and me walking between them, it was three dudes, one being the same skinheaded negro of last week. Same circumstance of heading to Thursday yoga, near same gangstalking circumstance. One dude was in a bright red anorak, a color and garment of increasing perp use, and no doubt some kind of color testing was going on, especially with Goretex, a teflon coating, and seeming to be one of the problem chemical pollutants for the perps, a "problem" that began on their watch for chrissakes.

Other oddities at yoga, or there and back, were that the yoga mats were laid out in advance, a new event. I always avoid the deep burgundy colored ones, and lo, if that wasn't the only choice in three locations. And the seating arrangement was all messed up; all mats faced inward in a circle, unlike the usual layout where we face the instructor. At one point, when doing balances where the perps constantly screw me and cause wobbling over, there was an unabashed sequence of masers popping out of the floor and through this burgundy colored mat. It went on for 20 seconds or so, these little eruptions of a grey or silvery nature in a tight little cluster over some 6" diameter.

In another staged event at the end of the class, I was seated and talking to the instructor who was framed by the window behind her. There were wood venetian blinds in the window, horizontal alternating bands of lighting, which wasn't unlike what they do to the you YouTube videos, breaking them into horizontal banded lines, emulating a video transmission "glitch". And while talking to her, all of a sudden the left lens of my glasses was immediated rendered foggier by some exotic means, very much like what happens in the evening or overnight. No doubt the perps are making some light intensity determinations and "needed" to fuck with my glasses to pull this off.

Back to basic pounding noises from the hallway; no cover story for that, and adding on "vibrations" inside my apartment is a bonus for the perps. I am reading about the nefarious deeds of the CIA and their MKULTRA program in all its horrific detail. This seems to be of significant interest to the noisestalkers, as there are other things besides pounding they will administer. And of course, other tricks like forced farts, vision impairments, creaking noises from inside my skull, fruit fly bombardment, and a few others. The hallway coughing routine is another, the "perpetrator" never, ever changing their cough in over 10 months. There seems to be a prefered cough they like to plant on me; the sudden throat clearing and a trail-off resonance.

I did my gym class earlier today, the almighty Thursday gangstalking routine. The usual 500 to 1,000 mobile vehicles and at least half that again in parked vehicles. I had my ambulatory freakshow as always; Mr. Ne Bald and Mr. Ethnic Gut were "featured" in nearly every glance I took, or more like, was directed to take. The highlights are rather dull; the freakish negro woman in two tone red and dyed brown hair is a three time regular, and was on the treadmills when I was. There was a Mr. Back and Forth, viewable outside while I was on the treadmill, walking to the building, then turning around at the doors and walking out again, not having entered. Thinking that was the end of his act, I should not of been surprised to see that he had somehow arrived within 10' of me, now working on the free weights in the same red and white shirt getup. Red shirts featured predominantly again, especially those on loiter/sentry duty. At one time they had some 15 of them around me, and the dude who hung around the weights for five minutes adjusting his touque hat and his Nanopod wires was too much for me to stay on the free weights with this over-obvious loitering thug to be standing over me. It seems that the perps are entensively testing muscle growth, and like me to back off on all my exercise routines. This has been consistent from early on; keep me off any routines by staffing the operatives at the locations I prefer at the time I am likely to use the equipment. They only let me run 7.5 minutes on the treadmill, only 0.5 minutes more than last time before sacking me out. Once I could run 20 minutes straight on the treadmill, now they won't let me do that much, and have only recently relented on this form of exercise. I have not yet figured out why some class members arrive at the end of the class, such as one today who was at the downstairs cashier when I was on my way out. It must be for extended gangstalking reasons.

The street freakshow was not worse than two days ago for this same 30 min. walk in each direction. No extra added weirdness on account of my yellow shirt for the latter activity today, the gym. I had my ambulatory gangstalkers ahead of me, behind me and parallel to me at various locations enroute. Sometimes they put on a half dozen around me, a pseudo-swarm. There was one big paving job going on, and that was visible from my apartment window. Needless to say, MIBs in black fleece were ahead and behind me when I walked beside the paving job. I also noted that there was a new "need" to dig out some adjacent concrete sidewalk and dig into the underlying soil, though no conventional purpose seemed to make sense. Perhaps this was the reference digging, keeping a fresh dig after all the gravel and paving had been laid down. Again, I have no idea why the perps are so fussed about petroleum products, ashphalt, concrete and soil, but they always like me to be there when the digging happens. The re-paving from two days ago was finished, no more activity save the electricians pulling wires through conduit under the street. I cannot imagine the perps giving up on finding out what they are after, as their surveillance activities have gone on for my lifetime, 53 years, 5.5 years of which has been overt harassment. I get the notion that this harassment and experimentation is not going as nearly well as they expected, and that closing on 6 years of dedicated overt harassment wasn't expected. Not my problem, so why am I being involved in it?

One extended gangstalking stunt at gym today was putting a couple with red shirts on, talking outside at length, and having one on each side of an intervening window pillar. This went on for five minutes, a male and female in differing reds and head gear, each assigned a precise location from where I was sitting on the exercise bicycle, putting on the street debate act at length. And lo, if there wasn't a curvacious blonde woman working on exercise equipment just to the left of this line of sight, probably to supply some kind of auric goodness the perps are hoping to harvest and apply to the Unfavored, especially old ducks putting on the act, wearing red.

As in, they don't care, there are plenty of other subjects they harass, so why do they keep me enraged all the time for their fuckery? Why can't they screw their own kind, who must surely provide their most intimate details to their employer on a 24/7 basis? If one takes the notion that the current Iraq War has a connection to this harassment objectives, as well as the ancillary Guantanamo Bay prisoners, and all the downstream war related debauchery, then it seems that the perps did not time their research very well to my harassment/research outcomes. I do suspect there is a connection, and call me nutty on this one, but when the perps have done with me is when the grievous Iraq atrocities will be over, or as much as they can be given the resident internecine strife without the complications of an invading party.

On the functional decomposition front, that is detailing my every thought and move in some form of energetic means, the perps seem to be still floundering around and creating noise at every keyword that they plant for me to "think" or do. That includes typing, hence the ongoing typo sabotage. It also includes handwriting and every stroke of forming every letter in the alphabet. Surely to fuck they have surveilled enough school age children to figure this one out, but no, they are still pounding objects in the hallway as a means to neurally explore me and my associated brain energies at that moment. My survival mantra is "another year (of harassment)", and so far, I have been correct, even if the perps launch their biannual "harassment termination" games. That they have this city in their pocket, and being irradiated all the time suggests that any investment is going to continue for a long time yet. For that, I got the overhead pounding and a zapping, then me swearing at the assholes who then went on to make more noise. Fucking sick is what this is.

More overhead pounding of the floor above, my ceiling, not forgetting that we are talking about steel concrete construction here, and noise emulates a lead-footed tromping back and forth. And especially so when the sirens start up. The hallway pounding noises are still continuing, I cannot think of what would be the cover story for that.

Time to call this one done for the day and hope for less clunking when I get to bed.