Wednesday, March 26, 2008

An 0400h Start Day

Back onto a new posting, and I am sure having posted a minute ago, and now beginning a new posting immediately afterward is an exciting test/harassment moment for the sickos that have kept up the vision fucking this morning and the "regular" hallway noises, as if the "neighbors" kept their hours in concert with mine. Which is the case, but it does not come from any neighbors, and I have a sense that there are precious few who actually live in this apartment block. Ms. A, the film director from two days ago claims to live two floors down, which she might if she is an operative, especially one that has been prominent in the story and the rest of the harassment since, see below as to my speculations. She "happened" to be across the street at an intersection yesterday, a common occurence, arranged of course.

Other gangstalking dweebes have "shown up" at recent intersections, even if their past props as business proprietors has ended with the business closing over two years ago. Which translated, the business wouldn't of been there if not for the harassment games as it was a laundromat that I took my clothes to when I had my vehicle. It was faster to take the clothes there than fuck with the games over the in-apartment laundry facilities at that particular residence location. Anyhow, this woman, once the proprietor until late 2005, also "happens" to show up recently locally, and then twice at a very unfriendly pedestrian intersection with her "friend" who often lounged around at the laundromat whenever I happened to be there. Talk about fish out of water, and here they are reprising as a pair again two blocks away from the laundromat some two years after it has closed.

Regular readers will know how much attention my laundry gets from the perps, and the above laundromat proprietor games is one such extension where the laundromat personnel now do street gangstalking instead. I intend to update the Thomas Townsend Brown posting, as I recently learned he ran an commercial laundromat, and lo, if my brother doesn't run one too. Amazing how these same themes keep resurfacing some 40 years later, except that they are loaded on my back for the fuckers' research purposes.

I survived doing my usual later morning web browsing earlier in the day, which was probably what this entire early start was about. The timing of the daylight seems to become a bigger issue of late, so having me do my later morning activities, my regular web news browsing, in the early morning before sunrise is a big deal for the small minds that are my tormentors.

Plus, they disrupted the breakfast routine; the latter part of my typical breakfast was at 0300h, and I showered and dressed after that. Then around 0800h, with the daylight coming through, I had the first part of my usual breakfast, cereal with hempseed added. By then I had been up for five hours and was dressed the entire duration. After that, I did my dental hygeine, another perp interest, and then I had a forced crap. I will leave it at that, except to say the entire morning has been mostly backwards, something the perps like to do. The big question is this a new fuckery front, or is it just a one time deal? Hard to say, as there has been so much disruption this week so far, begining with staying here Sunday night, instead of visiting the First Feral Family for family gangstalking in the magnetic field of their CRT TV, never mind the plasma flashes and flickering that they pretend isn't happening.

The overhead rumbling and pounding has chimed in for this early morning, even at 0300h when uncontrolled thoughts came to mind, and the faux tromping noise has started up again with the seagulls mewing. And it is oddly quiet now, and there seems to be a lapse in having something to blog about. The email continues to be a dry fount after the filming on Monday. I note that Ms. C of the story sent her first email in months on Monday, and there was plenty of email back and forthing with Ms. A the film director then, and that the perps had me almost inadvertently reply to Ms. C when I had intended to reply to Ms. A. No coincidence in all of that. In this state of having morphed over operatives and shills, it does make me wonder if this managed coincidence of emails isn't actually from the same person. One can never know for sure, but there were a few "tells" over script editing that the film show wasn't benign.

One coincident event on the day of filming, Monday, was a wood tick that mysteriously appeared on the wall, and when I went to lift it off (not crush it), the tick went splat anyway with a quarter sized blood spot on the wall. This matches a similar event on the opposite S. wall, 6" from this LCD display I am using, that occured some three weeks earlier. And it "so happened" that this latest tick/blood splat was facing the table where the sound man put his gear, (12" away) which included red pouches on his carry belt. What the perps will do to get a blood sample and yet not front for themselves to have me cooperate is simply astounding. As I didn't have a tick bite anywhere, and it makes absolutely no sense that a wood tick "happens" to arrive at breakfast on the facing wall in an downtown apartment six stories up, I can only assume that some of my blood was extracted by action-at-a-distance methods, and then splattered on the wall at the moment the tick was captured in the paper towel I had at hand. And the paper towel was a handy color and material reference as it is so ubiquitous. The gangstalkers are still packing around paper with them as some kind of calibration color for energetic interaction estimation. And just to think, they must have realtime blood data too if they can extract it by extra-conventional means. The more I learn of their advantages, the more I wonder about their collective sanity of attempting to remediate their fuckups by remote means, now six years of it come April.

A three hour nap was scripted for me, supposedly to recover from the night's sleep loss, but more likely to have a daytime test for a longer lie on my bed, given its varied colors, always of perp interest. Then tea and chocolate, more brown colored food, and then a rain shower that came down immediately afterward. I suspect that the latter was scripted for the continuance of the perps' brown color games, always having a problem with it, as it is not a rainbow color which might also be of significance. As I am typing this, the overhead rumbling has started up again, so it would seem that even mentioning this is of significant interest. More rumbling noise with some hallway sourced clickings, onto more complexity of the noisescape it seems. After expending a half hour on gravity theory, it is also likely the center of the perps' current interest. They like me to not understand something, and get considerably agitated about it, noisestalking the pre-comprehension perspective, and then noise-stalking the comprehension state, should it occur. In this case it didn't thanks to the learning disabilities that were laid on me, documented in 1960. I think there is a whole new world of people they could fuck over on that account, and instead, chose to tail me for my every thought, as they do now.

And I read that Pres. George Bush has come up with some new proclimations about the Iraq War, which to me, perverse as it sounds, seems to have considerable influence on the comings and goings of the perps with respect to the ongoing criminal harassment. It is about the top most interest after their mind control related fuckery, and I reckon that I won't get any reprieve until whatever it is about war and conflict in general that the perps are looking for is found, likely some kind of psychic energy, though likely a huge topic. So no, "mere mind control" is not enough of an accomplishment it would seem, nor is it that trashing my life for six years enough either. The perps made all this more difficult when they decided to remotely determine these energies as I think they are doing, and that was on top of the fuckups that I have alluded to over possible traumatization games for which they create much of gangstalking freakshow around me. The white colored pant thing is still in play; this past week's weird dressed in white standing in the open and stopped elevator in the fire alarm stunt had to take the cake for being utterly idiotic, and yesterday's white panted gym almost-freak getting into a long conversation while the class coordinator was in progress was another. Anyhow, it is most curious the perps are continuing life trashing while being totally unrepentant over the psychic scars they created in the first place.

And of late, they have been adding more color related plasma games while doing prosaic activities, attempting to get into the "color of financial transactions" as one such ludicrous juxtaposition of their interests/fuckover themes. Typo sabotage, time to end this for now.

Listening to music again, Katie Melua on YouTube; very addictive. Blogging off.

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