Thursday, April 03, 2008

A Busy Thursday

Thursdays are two scheduled event days, yoga at 1130h and gym at 1430h, with the latter requiring a 30 minute walk to get to the OB Rec. Center.

I departed for yoga at 1115h, and had my elevator stalker who came on with sunglasses for chrissakes. Then he makes a big gesture to allow me out first, meaning I walk past him. It would be more sense if he got out first as he was closest to the door. But in perpland, nothing is what it seems. Therefore, he was on my tail as I exited the building, and lo, if there wasn't a long white haired dude standing in the courtyard area and accessing his pack for some reason. Any excuse to have these Unfavoreds loitering in my proximity, especially with their mouth hanging open.

It was Male Perp central out on the street; swarms of shiftless males with no seeming job, out on the streets at 1115h on a weekday. And I was surprised how many of the fuckers were wearing brown colored clothing, even, dark brown at that. There was the usual hoodies as well, a black hoodie under a blue jean jacket. And the dumbshit red touques and ball caps are still going strong. Anyhow, it was quite a showing, at least 300 ambulatory gangstalkers on duty for a 10 minute walk, not to mention the hundreds of color coordinated vehicles passing by on these traffic controlled streets.

Then when I got to the yoga class area, the perps had a white cube van outside of it that I had to walk in front of, and they also had two same deep green colored vehicles parked in file outside the building in the street parking stalls. A brown coated male gangstalker was on the opposite side of the street, and was carrying a yellow plastic bag. For no seeming reason he stopped in mid sidewalk and turned his back toward me, and then proceeded to place his yellow plastic bag in front of him, partially blocking it with his body. I see quite a few yellow and brown color combination games, and it isn't much of a surprise as to where that comes from -think bodily waste products.

My usual yoga spot had been garnered by the sometimes attendee who has tracked me in other yoga classes, and even on the hiking trail if memory serves me. (My recall is totally governed by the perps, and can be highly disrupted and made to be totally wrong when it never was). I hadn't seen her for over a year, so I was surprised that she showed up, and I am sure it will be for a session or two and then she drops out like she normally does. I picked the best alternate location that I could, and then began my warmup stretches, which seemed to be duplicated by the instructor.

Anyhow, the yoga class started, and 20 minutes into it, a "latecomer" woman arrives beside me, in a dark brown shirt. Five minutes later, another "latecomer" arrives in a pink and red colored outfit. So it would seem that it takes the perps some 20 or more minutes to calibrate me to these most problematic colors for them at a change in venue. And of course I was lead-ahead gangstalked in the corridor by a dude in shorts packing a cardboard box (brown color) on his shoulder with red printing on it.

Before yoga started I noted the four mirrors on the seats at the perimeter of the room, all within 10' of my mat location. This was the "reason" for the instructor to then turn them around, and have them all face outward, revealing the brown paper backing. So, it would seem that these 1'x4' mirrors were arranged around me, and against the wall, and that they "needed" to be turned around to display the brown paper backing. The perps cannot get enough brown color around me it seems.

Once out of yoga I had my street swarms again, this time with the cover story that these were lunchtime crowds. I even had the pathetic instance of a gangstalker attending to her backpack in the middle of the sidewalk, at an intersection, it being of red color. I have never seen anything quite so perverse at this before, kneeling on the busy sidewalk and reshuffling one's backpack contents. There is always a first time for extended lunacy, and this was one such event.

Anyhow, while back at my apartment I noted the sound of a pressure washer in the distance, a noise that was once a weekly regular event, and there have been plenty of other occasions where they put on this show. As it so "happened", the pressure washer was being used on my later route to the gym, and for whatever bizarre reason, they were pressure washing the new concrete of the sidewalk they poured and finished last week. I have never seen such gratuitous "work" before, but here it was. As this area had been bounded off I was obliged to walk down the ashphalt paved street, all to have a brown colored vehicle pass me by at the same location. Regular readers will know that the perps are totally obsessed over my interactions with concrete and asphalt as well as petroleum products.

My gym class was only a three freak showing, and four others, plus two coordinators/instructors. But even at that, Mr. Ethnic Gut and Mr. New Bald made sure they featured themselves each time I looked around, one or both were in my field of view. Some of their comings and goings just don't add up. New Bald made sure to park himself at the windows and then follow me into the classroom a few minutes later. There is something the perps don't understand about sunlight, and artificial lighting, and they seemed to use him as a daylit specimen (through safety glass) to then loiter around me in the artificially lit classroom. Hence the huge amount of gangstalking that goes on at building exits and entrances all the time. On my way back I stopped at a grocery store and lo, if at least 12 of the fuckers hadn't descended on the exit, there being a file of at least five of them which I was obliged to cross outside the LD store . And more outside gangstalkers are trailing me outside to then "arrive" exactly at the same aisle and location as I do, another of my in-store "specials" again.

And it was the same strange crowd at the gym; about four of them in a line sitting or standing around doing nothing. I have remarked on this before; I have never been in a gym where so many in the volitional equipment area (weights, non-aerobic strength training machines), are sitting doing utterly nothing. One fucker was on an orchestrated "wander", right into my path, pretending he didn't notice me, this timed exactly when I was close to him. Having his mouth hanging open was also a gangstalking givewaway.

In the floor exercise room there was more floor exercise events for me to be looking down to then see Mr. New Bald's disgusting bald head. He was placed behind me, and we then did an exercise called "moutntain climber" where we are in a plank position, and then alternated bringing a foot under our chest, and then back down again. This provided a very oblique angle where if I looked down at my feet, Mr. New Bald's ugly pate was in view. Once that happened, I looked at the floor instead. This was a near identical repeat of at least two other same exercise events, and it struck me that the perps are replicating not only the traumatization subject, disgusting bald head, but also the very angle of view I had at the time. Anyhow, Mr. New Bald made sure to feature his fugly head a few more times aided by recall purging and mind-controlled movements that I would not of made myself. Once I see a fugly thing or being, I don't need another look, and yet the perps have me attention controlled to keep looking far more than I would otherwise. The traumatization rationale is speculative, as it comes from the perps planting this notion and replicating all these seeming causal prompts in my view, if only for a subsecond. But it does make me wonder why they keep on this bald headed male track, and make sure I get many of these exposures in one day. And the sidechat was that Mr. New Bald is looking for a yoga class, having tried a commercial one, and wants to continue. No doubt he will "show up" at the earlier Thursday yoga class before long, to extend the gangstalking duration. About a month ago there was someone like him in the elevator for two successive departures for my gym class, covering their head with a ball cap. It could of been a facially morphed version of this same dude, the one that brought a cell phone with him on the first day of his sudden baldness, and never carried one before or since.

When I entered the gym I had some swivel headed dude just poking along, but as he got ahead of me on the stairwell I could not pass him. Then three more dudes were loitering ahead for me to pass through and foil my passing by this lollygagging lead-ahead stalker. Then when leaving, Ethnic Gut "managed" to get immediately in front of me and then he too, took his time to get down the stairs. And then at the base of the stairs, and a 90 degree turn, the perps put on an oncoming attractive blonde woman as some kind of "auric reference", as Ethnic Gut is plain too disgusting to look at for more than a second or two. In other words, I am not allowed to enter or exit the recreation center at my own pace, I have to be slowed down for dumbshit gags like putting some loathesome creature in front of me to slow me down and piss me off.

The street work projects on my walking route are coming to a close, and one, the fuelling station, now complete for at least six weeks, was in a starring role today. The front end loader that has been busy in this neighborhood's street works projects drove a half mile away and "happened" to be filling up with diesel when I walked by. It was so utterly perverse, as heavy equipment is usually refuelled from a Tidy tank on site. But no, because this fuelling station had been ripped down, the bedrock blasted, and new tanks were installed and rebuilt again, I shouldn't of been surprised that the "local" front end loader was filling up.

All the time that I walked past it over four months during its reconstruction I had been directly exposed to the bedrock, the installed tanks, the cushioning drain rock, the piping and the pouring of the concrete and asphalt when under construction, I reckon this was a test to see if the fuel in the hose could be somehow remotely assayed for its energy interactions with me as I walked by 60' away. (In theory, I would of had direct energy interactions with the rock, tank, drain rock, asphalt and concrete, all the surrounding materials of the fuel as it is stored and pumped.) Anyhow, I am sure the entire perp obsession over petroleum products has some way to go, and it was no surprise today that there was at least a 150' line of spattered oil on the new concrete sidewalks to aid in this ongoing fuckery topic/objective.

There have been at least two other fuelling stations on my regular bus beat to my parent's house that have had partial tank replacements. The perps like to pull the steel tanks out and replace them with plastic ones for whatever reason. And at one time, going back at least two decades, the perps had many more fuelling stations ripped up with tank replacements. They have shutdown a few others as well.

A near parade of loud vehicles for the past two hours, necessitating me plugging my ears for the worst cases, nearly always timed to be loudest immediately preceding me putting my fingers in place. And also, the noise is timed to occur and disrupt me doing the most mundane of tasks of bookmarking, clicking on a new web page and like activities. These noises are invariably hotrods (so called performance muflers), 4 cycle motorcycle engine at high rpm, and throbby exhausts of either ill-maintained mufflers or else 2 cycle motorcycle noises. I just cannot stand the last two noises for whatever reason, the perps making my "reaction" and loathing to be much greater than before they went into overt harassment in 2002. I suspect these noises are ones that I have subconscious traumatization reactions to, and that they plant these noises to keep re-creating this reaction, and then have me react in a scripted conscious over-reaction.

It is most odd that they don't run these noises nearly as often when I am outside walking along major thoroughfares, such as my walk to the gym and back, one hour return trip. And yet currently there are four to eight per minute, trailing off (sound decay) for about five seconds each. As regular readers will know, these are noises only, projected by some means to sound as if coming from the street outside. And they are also arranged to come in louder than they normally would some six stories up. The noise volume is about 80% of that on the street, the few times there is an actual physical cause. (Even the street noises are amplified much of the time).

And more arranged coincidences; my mother was talking about making a trip to Ottawa, Canda's capital city yesterday. I don't know if this was a bullshit stunt as she has never expressed any such interest before. The city's name is frequently arrises in the news because it is the capital city of Canada, much like Washington DC in the USA. And it so "happened" that several of the yoga class members were going on about Ottawa today after the class was over. I only overheard this as I was speaking with the instructor about toxins, as the focus of her class was to detoxifying yoga practice today. Anyhow, it is always interesting to note that these themes keep repeating themselves, seemingly unconnected, but in fact, highly orchestrated to subsecond levels with my every body position determined in advance. Nearly all city, region and country names are noisestalked, and the perps have been especially diligent in having me repeat city names where I have once lived or otherwise aspire to visit. Even street names are noisestalked or otherwise elicited from me in pre-scripted conversations. This can be determined by the shill or operative with whom I am having a conversation to suddenly go blank and stop talking, akin to hitting the jackpot.

The vision impairment games are getting out of hand tonight; it is more than the usual fuzzy or filamentous masers drifting back and forth, but constant plasma projections off the LCD display and other obscuring phenomenon, possibly at the neural level. The outside throbby engine or exhaust noises are continuing, often timed for keywords, such as those mentioned in this paragraph. The perps also lay on reading "misperceptions", planting the wrong concept with the word. It is extremely disruptive.

It is time to call this one done for the day, and ponder what the perps will bring me tomorrow, being a no-activity day.

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