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.
1640h
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.
1800h
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.
2025h
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?
2055h
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.
2225h
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.
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