Saturday, May 31, 2008

Laundry and Other Tick Offs

The overhead pounding started up for the first time today, so this must be an important moment for the depraved mind-keepers I have.

I got a rare 0550h get-up this morning, and lo, if there wasn't the planted ticks in place on the wall as I was making the bed. (And making the bed, where I climb onto it to finish the job against the wall, is a big noise and harassment event). Soo... a trip to the kitchen get paper towels to pick them up and scrunch them was in order. And lo, if the seeming ticks didn't just self erupt anyhow, make a mess on the wall, and then require another trip to the kitchen to get cleaning supplies and deal with the mess. And it should be said, I have not had any insect bites, so that is why I suspect they are planted containing, or are simultaneously associated with introduced blood. I don't know whose blood it is, and it could me mine. There is now tick associated blood bursts on the N., S., and W. walls, with the E. wall being deficient as it is mostly a sliding glass door.

I was awakened from a strange and persistent dream about a headless horse, and attempting to bury it with the detached head, and it would come alive again. I have never, ever had such dreams of detail, or of this kind, and if they happened (read, were planted), I would always bail out and awaken and come back to reality. Now, the perps can block my reality circuit breaker and keep me in their strange dreams as long as they want.

And after breakfast, lo, if another two ticks didn't "show up" in the same wall as when I got up, the W. wall. Anyhow, I am sure the tick thing is about having me attend to things in new locations and stay their longer for the remote energetics assay activity that is the perp's quest. The early morning seemed to be about the sunlight and sunrise games, the sun directly shining into this E. facing apartment and passing by on the N. side of the adjacent tower to shine on the S. wall. In this way, the brightly sunlit wall can be seen in the mirror of the bathroom while shaving. Any excuse to add some light onto a subject the usual telltale of perps taking on more problematic events, e.g. shaving. Once I got out of the bathroom, the sun was directly shining into the apartment, over the top of the adjacent tower. It is very important to the perps that they have light passing by something as much as to what it is falling onto.

More thumpings from overhead, so that means it is an important moment, one to get my laundry from the dryer, and contemplate the persistent mess the perps have planted on the bedsheets. They like me to delay bedsheet laundering for whatever reason, and they got nearly three weeks in this time, the normal cycle being two weeks.

Another early morning "greeter" at 0550h when I parted the curtains was the septic services truck heading S., seen for two seconds at most. And what seeming municipal vehicle would be seen at that time on a Saturday? Why, the shit tanker, which may only have mine in the tank, given the strangely scripted bowel movement frequencies and the perps ability to pull substances out of one directly to some place else. As the perps are obsessed over this topic, and of course the color, their planted notion that the regular shit tanker is dedicated to me may be correct. Another who knows; totally unverifiable.

Another reason for getting me up early is to have me do my usual news web troving earlier in the day. There has been a slow move to shift this activity to the morning from the afternoon, and some of the eveningtime sites I visit, the ones of the lowest priority, have shifted forward to the afternoon. What this suggests is that the perps find sunlight conditions to be important enough to be associate with the regular web troving at various times of the day. In other words, looking at the 20 some personal blogs (mostly a stock list), was once an afternoon event, as I was being awakened so late, 0900h h, even 1000h. But today, some months later, and by increments of 15 minutes or so, the same Bookmarked category of blogs are now read about 1000h. It should be noted that accessing any of these blogs at the first page display is routinely noisestalked, and sometimes accompanied with plasma flashes and other phenomenon.

And I have been getting more spatter games; there was another round of spots on my pillow and bottom sheet, some at the foot of the bed. The above tick action has been accompanied by forcing me to look at these spots, and also faking me out with light games to momentarily create the same condition in my peripherial vision, ususally done with black maser objects. And there are at least five small divots in the counter which appear to be similar to the recent spots, and I get forced to look at these and "think" (read, planted notion), that this is a tick. Call it imposed tick "misidentification/misattribution". There had to be at least 20 such fake ticks/momentary spots created during breakfast, hot on the heels of having me look at the minor tick invasion and the concurrent emulatory black spots on the bedsheets.

These three photographs of my bedsheets and my pillow case show the splatter that has spontaneously "arrived" with additonal splatter each morning. There is a swirled arc to them as well, perhaps more apparent when one is zoomed in.

This is the pillow case with the striated weave pattern. These seem to be flicked on, and not smeared like the bedsheet above.

Finally, the perps are over their spot lunacy, but there is invariably more. And that would be creating momentary red flashes in my peripherial and central vision, sometimes in front of this very LCD display. The perps are heavy on red exposures of late, and also ensure that many of the web pages have extra clashing reds on them, often small displays. Just another color and a plasma exposure, now close to a 1,000 per day, not including the blackish masers.

And a bout of housekeeping industriousness "erupted" when doing the laundry, when it usually does. The bathroom sink was cleaned of its greenish tinged enamel, normally white, but to little result. I suppose the perp highlight of that was re-using the J-cloth by hanging it up to dry. I also vacuumed the carpeted floor for the second time I have lived here. And finally, I swept the bathroom and kitchen floors with the broom. The perps ensure that their dust bunnies flit about and defy being swept into the dustpan in less thatn three attempts. And almost forgetting, the extra-conventional dust aggregations also got attended to, and the vacuum cleaner's strange propensity to collect dust on the handle, case and wire. A rare foursome of cleaning, and that is the first time all that has been allowed in one cleaning session. I wonder what is common about all those activities that is of interest to the perps?

There has bee more back-to-back activity consistency of late, as well as world event consistency; e.g. the Myramar cyclone followed by the Sechuan earthquake in less than a week. And of note, I was routinely noisestalked while reading about these catastrophic events, and the perps also cognitively dithered me to ensure that I was thinking about the wrong catastrophe as to the one I was viewing or reading about. The "get it wrong for us" games have been coming on strong of late, and this pertains to world events as much as having me open the wrong kitchen cupboard.

The afternoon sleepiness has also been moved ahead, and I have slipped into a sitting up sleep a few times while ready about these dragonfly drones that appear to have no mode of propulsion. When it is clear that certain agencies can operationally effect action-at-a-distance and unconventional gravitic forces, there is no end of bizarreness that can be sustained. What I do know is that they prefer metal objects to be in ring form to best facilitate their remote energetics assay capability. They also have vehicles doing 360 degree turns in the parking lot below before they park. Anyhow, I have never seen any UFO objects, and don't expect to, as my life is unconventional enough. Why add to it, as the perps must be testing plenty of other victims let alone their own personnel as well as the First Feral Family (mine, that is). And I got three loud Harley Davidson like noise bursts and trail offs while typing this paragraph, especially while doing the link. Even the church bells have put on, perhaps for something special for a Saturday, not unlike the street cleaner that went past and laid down two 6" wide tracks of wetted pavement for its 4' wide swath. (And the street sweeper games are routinely like this, never cleaning very much, and only for placing narrow tracks of wetness).

The upstairs vacuuming act has started up, telling me that this is big moment, as does the concurrent loud motorcycle noise. It is teatime.

And a minor event was scripted for teatime; a tire screech and a clunk noise, signifying a vehicle collision. Some ten minutes later, yes 10, the ambulance arrives in a siren cascade, and it idles its engine through the chocolate eating part of teatime. I took some pictures, and I am not forced into slackness, I will post them later. I am long inured to these goings on around me and that is what the perps seem to want in any event; total unemotional observation. The operative threading his way through speeding street vehicles was another such event a few months ago.

Here is the planted word of the week; Miasma
A noxious atmosphere or influence: "The family affection, the family expectations, seemed to permeate the atmosphere . . . like a coiling miasma" (Louis Auchincloss).
A poisonous atmosphere formerly thought to rise from swamps and putrid matter and cause disease.
A thick vaporous atmosphere or emanation: wreathed in a miasma of cigarette smoke.
I think this word should describe the TI harassment experience given its scope of describing umpleasant natural or unnatural ecosystems. The Energetic Miasma perhaps? Or, the Persecutorial Miasma? The Stigmatic Miasma? Something like that.

I got out to get a national newspaper to read at the convenience store below, and lo, if they didn't have some leftover Easter Cadbury Creme eggs, a long running favorite. Though more likely, it is a favorite for another party; the metallic foil wrapped chocolate (useful to them in some way), and with with white gooey whites and a a yellow gooey yolk, candied versions that is. And for that 60' walk to the grocery store I got my cellphoning babe at the apartment front doors, putting on the dumbshit act that she didn't know it was fucking dumb to block public egress, let alone when on a cell phone. But she seemed to know I was there, putting on a rotational turn as I came in close to open the door.

Then the convenience store had a gangstalker act either side of me; a halfwat putting on the extra friendly routing with the proprietor, aka Cheersing, and wizzend granny loitering around behind me in clashing blues and violet in varying orientations/poses. And of course, this was holding me up some, but not a whole lot. I suspect most of the granny acts are really one person, just morphed over to appear different. That sick person would be my mother is what I suspect. She has been known to suddenly arrive in the backyard when I got in by bus, having been circled upteen times beforehand by a granny at the downtown bus stop in white and a fugly red outfit. The morphing, aka shapeshifting, takes more time when the body size and frame is changed, where purely facial or head morphings don't take more than five minutes. Then the operative/fucker gets changed in some extra-conventional way, and then teleported back to where they came from.

And I note that after I gorged on the Cadbury Creme Eggs that a spot of 2" square brownish something "arrived" on my balcony, simulating chocolate, even if I didn't put it there. The perps need an outside brown reference color swatch close to me, and slapping it on the concrete surface works for them.

A color swatch of simulated chocolate "arrived" ahead of my pig-out of the Cadbury Creme Eggs and here it is. I still have not determined just what exactly it is, but the color is correct for chocolate. This is where the perps are at after six years of hounding my ass following 47 years of covert surveillance and a lifetime of orchestrating all my interactions. Fucking pathetic, and what is worse, it seems that they made some fundamental mistakes, e.g. forced traumatization and a early age LSD dosing that they are still attempting to dig themselves out of (they tell me), at my expense of course.

It is pathetic all round that they cannot figure out my brown color reactions from 8' away and through the safety glass, so they add this brown swatch to the balcony. I suppose I will be the one appointed to clean up their mess. And as I type that, the overhead clunking started up.

The perps allowed a less harassed making of dinner, though they did piss me off and then add the Harley noise at that very moment. I don't know what they are up to besides continuing the pre-dinner noise after dinner. Making dinner is so rote after five years, as it is the same dish with some variations as to the base for the tortilla; tapenade (olive paste), guacamole and artichoke pesto. In the early harassment days of 2003 and 2004, they allowed me to use antipasti, a combination of tomato sauce, fish, sliced olives, beans etc., but they took me off it in 05-2004 and tightly rationed me on what kind of red foods I was allowed. Presently, they are trying me again, on tapenade with some tomato in it. I assume the ingestion of red food interferes with their remote energetics assay work, which would include anything red in my proximity. The term "proximity" might mean 400' now, depending on color, time of day, lighting conditions, orientation etc. I see that they are doing some testing from that distance with some colors of vehicles, and less of them in close, save dusk onset, which is right about now. I was getting the plasma spot beam streaming in and pulled the curtains to block it. That wasn't satisfactory, so they strobed the beam and had it "arrive" inside my apartment just to piss me off. The perps control me to be highly reactive to stroboscopic light of all colors, when I never was before.

I am at a loose end tonight, having got up so early today. Perhaps the perps want to also shift my later evening music listening to this earlier time with dusk onset.

I am getting firecrackered, and it way too early for Canada Day, July 01. And of course, someone zaps me at the same instant as the bang, so only the source of the noise has changed, not the practice.

The perps shut down the entryway ceiling light, both bulbs, and messed with the holding nut so I couldn't access it by hand. I am looking at stereo components again, one of my regular haunts, futile as it is. Regular readers will know that my music intake is highly contrained, along with having masses of metal in the form of speaker magnets, amplifier transformers and the like (both in my locker). And of course the reality is that any stereo gear is unaffordable, save the headphones they allow me to have.

Time to call another day done in the service of the mind constrained miasma that is my life.

Friday, May 30, 2008

On With Shoulder Pain

One of the regular jerkarounds, about once per two weeks, is to have an imposed pain from no seeming cause created as a localized source of neural sensitization. It would seem that the perps need a new source of somatic pain every so often, and today it is my right shoulder, never a problem until today. I did go the yoga and the gym yesterday, but there was no strenuous activity that registered as a potential reason. And note, should I spin in my chair, even if not moving my shoulder, the pain will come on, all because of some covert agency's need to impose this pain when I am in a 90 degree different orientation. Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed over the concept of anisotrophy, differing properties (of light and other energetics IMHO) in differing directions/orientations. Hence, all the vehicles and ambulatory gangstalkers turning corners in front or behind me, the 90 degree offset orientation of placed gangstalkers, the 180 and 360 degree spins of gangstalkers in front of me and the rest of it. I blogged about this once at length, and if I am allowed to be industrious, I will get the link- here.

I don't know much about goat milk, even if I have been buying it for some six months now. But I do know that the gangstalkers are all over me each time I purchase it, and especially if I change brands, usually because of "stocking" shortages. The big game with this milk is that it goes off long before the expiration date, and the larger size plastic container was replaced with a one liter cardboard container as there was too much waste. And lo, if the one liter size goat milk isn't souring early; an expiration date of June 05 and one third of it still remaining, and now it needs to be replaced. The fridge has its cold setting turned to maximum coldness and still this premature goat milk souring is going on. I suspect the perps are up to their usual fuckery, and are still playing games over this food item, largely because it is white in color, one of the essential reference colors for them.

Ever note how often there are white or black colored bars on packaging for no seeming reason? Or, alternatively, underneath cardboard milk containers, the row of printed color testing. Guess who that might be, given their interest in all things colored (including reference colors), metered and all energetic interactions? That is the conspiratorial thought for the day, and with the perps so rabid in introducing various plastics in my proximity when outside, or even dropping them onto my outside balcony, it does not surprise me in the least that packaging plays an extremely important role in the energetics of the contents, and that the same interested agency might have a large role in how things are packaged. All I can say is that the packaging of what I purchase is a bigger deal to someone else other than me, and that the same agency has a long running interest in cycling me through milk containers of any kind. Go figure.

Here are two examples, the teabag cover having both black and white color "sample swatches".

This is Neutrogena Deep Clean with a single black color swatch.

And too, the anisotrophy of the packaging and containers; they constantly have me flip the containers around, and otherwise manage for me to vary the orientation in the placement of what I purchase and use. My father even does them a favor by eating his breakfast cereal right out of the plastic bag inside the box of cereal, bypassing the possible energetics of the bowl, spoon and milk. So far, they haven't fucked me into such pathetic behaviour, but they do like to arrange "hiccups" in my routines, no matter how prosaic.

Another pain that has been introduced today is knee pain, and it can be applied at any moment, typically when I am standing in the kitchen and re-orienting myself along the L shaped counter. And to dispense with the cover story, they even invoked the knee pain while the leg was raised and of course, with no stress whatsoever. Again, I have no knee pains of pre-overt harassment days, so why now? Are the knees of bipedal walking design reaching a deeper neural structure so the interested mind-keepers can exploit this for their alleged brain stem region research? And simultaneous scripting of shoulder pain and knee pain an attempt to correlate these sensitizations? Could be, as having both at once is no coincidence, not in my life.

A round of doing battle with the perps erupted over importing pictures, with ongoing outside noise, the same ones that "happened" before teatime. This is now post-teatime, and I eat 100g of chocolate, and its digestion seems to be of intense interest to the assholes, as is all things brown. I suspect the perps want me in this hyper alert state while dealing with their planted and planned "software glitches" introduced into Picasa to then mess with the listing of the folders. The folders are still there, but Picasa has its wires crossed and cannot find them. And of course any file/album manipulation capability in Picasa has been obstructed. A fucking pissoff, as I had no trouble with Picasa for over 1.5 years, and now an "eruption" of dysfunction.

And note, a new vacuum cleaner was put into operation when I was eating chocolate; just as the first piece was placed in my mouth it restarted after a "warm up" of noise and suction when unwrapping the bar. I can often successfully predict the goings on if I am not being dithered. And the fridge compressor also kicked on; my take on this is that the sudden onset of an electric motor creates a EMF spike that the perps hope is of some benefit to them. The suction of a vacuum cleaner likely aids them in their torsional energetics games. Enough of this sick streak of fuckery, time to look into something else.

A post tea and chocolate short web surfing created by pissing me off, then a 15 minute book reading, my first permitted book reading in months, and then a 60 minute nap on the bed. The perps are still making me out to have a groggy recovery, even if dinner would of dispelled it in normal circumstances. Now the overhead rattling and clunking has arrived for the dinner digestion period. Through all of the above, the most loathed Harley motorbike noises have been arranged, and often when I have no hands availible to plug my ears.

I am now getting a number of red plasma flashes, of a degree that makes me want to puke if it ran for much longer. Often the web pages I visit are modified to have these colors in abundance for the same effect. Yesterday the perps put on some very bright red plasma flashes at the gym; I had red colors on each side of my peripherial vision, and someone decided that I needed some very bright ones in my central vision, and placed some horizontal plasma beams about 20' away, one a copy of the other but with reduced brightness. There were others that saw it, but of course did not let on that they did. I imagine that the perps have been working on all facets of my aversion to specific colors for a long time, but only in the last year have they reached my subconscious reactions and made them the predominant arbiter of my Favored and Unfavored classifications. Only they knew such reactions were there all the time, having created the traumatizations in the first place, and which seem to be an impasse to what they are after other than total mind control. They wouldn't be digging so neurally deep for remediation purposes.

My earlier remarks about the imposed knee pain prompted notion to look up the neural pathways associated with walking, and hence, knee sensation. Little did I know that the experts aren't totally sure themselves, the conventional technology experts that is. This link is to a book of theories on the neuromechanics of bipedal locomotion.

Below, is a copy of the abstract of this paper, which refers to deep neural pathways of the basal ganglia and brainstem regions;
Recent physiological studies of neural architecture of the motion control have clarified how the basal ganglia-brainstem system controls muscle tone and locomotion. The descending two major pathways from a basal ganglia-brainstem-midbrain control the activity of muscle tone and the locomotion executing system. So we have modeled an automatic control system of locomotion of a biped with these two pathways, which operates in conjunction with voluntary control processes. The locomotion executing system activates the locomotor central pattern generator, whose output alternatively generates the locomotor rhythmic patterns. Another descending pathway from a basal ganglia-brainstem-midbrain controls postural muscle tone to sustain the locomotion. We have demonstrated that the bipedal locomotion is flexibly organized by integrating the two pathways, which is more adaptable to the changes of the environment than the CPG models proposed so far.

By inference, I think that the perps are beyond this leading edge theory of neural pathways related to bipedal motion, and are exploiting this knowledge in an attempt to plumb my brainstem region for related energetic activities they cannot yet manipulate. Very advanced by my reckoning. Once, I knew much more about the neural regions and makeup in my ADD research days, but it seems that knowledge has been deleted, as I am confounded that so little can be recalled. And it is interesting that the perps are constantly noisestalking me over neurology terms and the above linking to them, the few that I engage in looking up to explain the ongoing fuckery focus.

A barrage of motorcycle noise, bus noise, loud muffler noise and overhead rumbling has been in place for the last hour, usually timed to what I am reading and "needing" to have my ears plugged with my fingers. Some red flashes have been scripted in as well. I cannot vouch for why the perps are so interested in me reading about a JM Lab/Focal (speakers) factory tour, and other web surfing of stereo gear, but that was the kind of online content that seemed to be associated with the noise.

The above mentioned roaring and ripping sounds seem to be coordinated with my fingers over my ears; the instant I take my fingers off another similar sound has started up, sometimes for three iterations. And the noises are getting further divorced from reality in that there are no places to safely drive fast in this neighborhood, and yet that is what the loud vehicle sounds convey.

Another related pattern is that when I take my earmuffs off, the perps set up noise to ensure that I immediately plug my fingers with my ears. They want my fingers to follow on from the earmuffs for some repetitive reason. No doubt this is all building up to a rare eveningtime shopping trip to get some milk to replace the plunderings noted above. The milk I regularly purchase is situated next to the chocolate milk, and the proximity of white milk next to brown milk is of abiding interest to the perps.

I made a rare nightime shopping trip to the local supermarket, and lo, if I wasn't commanded to purchase more chocolate when I have plenty on hand. And lo, if the goat milk wasn't next to the chocolate milk, heightening my suspicion as to all this being arranged. In fact, I am sure all of it is arranged, complete with the instignating event of the assholes prematurely souring my milk. And for my pain, I had no choice in getting twice as much milk in a plastic container with the expiry date one day later that the one liter carton I had on hand. The latter is now tossed out, and I suspect all that white milk swirling in the sink might be another color reference test.

I had my retinue of gangstalkers on jaywalk duty, as well as in a greyscale outfit to then lead ahead of me into the store. A counter walking dude was in a vile green colored outfit. I had a gangstalker on me when getting the chocolate, and then again when I was selecting the milk. I had my "open mouther" one of the regular gangstalkers a little morphed over and taller, and I wasn't allowed to recall his name when I saw him, only images of his past sightings. That was Mr. Passport Tosser, or at least I was planted with the notion, and he bore some resemblance. I had a dreadlocked negro dude hanging around, and I was made to looking at his vile mop hairdo at least twice more than I wanted to. Then onto outside the store where a bright fleece act was positoned outside the door, as well as the malingering skinhead at my checkout also happened to be passing by, riding his bicycle on the sidewalk in the most cycle laned cities in Canada. The negro dude also preceded me out the door, and even my usual route, so I took the alternative path, only to have my stare-at-me babe arrive, who then did a stand-in-the-street (on the ashphalt) 4' from the curb for the usual perp reasons. (I was on the concrete sidewalk waiting for the traffic control, and I have remarked at length in past blogs as to the nature of this abiding perp interest in concrete and asphalt surfaces and their interface at the curb). Then a suit, a MIB (Man In Black) in fact, packing a white plastic bag in hand to precede me for the last block. And finally, for the whole 10 minute round trip, shopping included, a swarm of six semi-vagrant dudes was outside my apartment block, one with a replica of the aforementioned negro's fugly hairdo. I cannot be left alone, fugly hair stalking it might me called. Then to top off the absurdity, out from the elevator comes a 40ish dude with his arm extended to his side, aiding a bent over granny. That they didn't look related didn't matter it seemed; the perps like to manage for a large differential in height among their gangstalkers, and that seemed to be the objective, save for the minor hilarity.

Anyhow, I am going to call this one done, a near shut-in day, and likely one tomorrow.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

Pounding the Ceiling

While slumbering at 0715h this morning the perps started up the overhead pounding, putatively from the overhead neighbors taking a sledgehammer to their floor. As there is 12" of intervening concrete and steel, and the noise was directly overhead of me in the bed, I assume the noise was from the perps' projected sound machine, one that can deliver any noise anywhere without conventional causal. Regular readers will know that this apartment block seems to be strangely bereft of authentic residents, just like the last three residence locations.

True to form, the perps then had me turn my head to the other side and then added more pounding to complement what they had just done. As best as I can tell, this is their method of stimulating deep neural circuits to then explore adjacent ones of interest. All my neural circuitry is of interest to this party that won't declare themselves, and they seem to be working on the brainstem area, which oddly, is being energized with external sound. And there is plenty of internal head noise too; crackling swallowing, internal head clicks, jaw thwacks and others, again all created by some remote means, and in this case, intended to bypass aural hearing.

Curiously, the perps kept me in a sleepy state while the overhead pounding noise was going on; normally they have me instantly "react" and yell at the assholes, which usually results in the annoyance ceasing. Today though, they kept me dociled while this noise erupted, and I have no idea as to what this infers. Perhaps exciting the emotional circuitry gets in the way of their current exploration games.

When I got up at 0730h I had my first insect of the day planted in front of me on the wall while making the bed, and lo, if it didn't burst into a bloody mess all over my fingers and require a visit to the bathroom to clean up. As I have no insect bites on me, this episode begs the question as to whose blood it was, and how did it get placed to self-erupt from the insect? This would be a planned disruption of normal routine of getting changed and then going to the kitchen and making breakfast, and not visiting the bathroom until afterward. I have seen so many disruption games of late that I have given up blogging them all.

I also have given up counting the blood eruptions on the walls in the apartment, as it is becoming more frequent; I think it is six in total so far, though not all insect eruptions have been with blood; an ink like eruption was scripted Monday night, presumably as a spot to redirect masers that are flitting about. My pillows, sheets and blankets are getting mysterious splatters on them each night now and it won't come off in the laundry. Which really begs the question as to what is really going on while I am sleeping? For that I would need a video camera, and past experience has taught me that all electronic gear can be remotely tapped and sabotaged, especially if it has any likelihood of catching games they don't want me to see.

The clunking noises have started up, and they even went as far as shaking my office chair while I was sitting in it. That is to say, one that sits on a 12" concrete and steel carpeted floor. It is not your average tenant below who somehow can not only accurately locate me but then "somehow" send a vibration through the ceiling to my chair. The reality is not that of course, but the propensity of the perps to apply whatever remote forces and sensations they deem neccessary at any given moment, and often to aggravate me.

These same clunking noises arrived for the first 20 minutes of yoga this morning; no cover story like building maintenance of course, just out and out noise and vibration stalking at a critical early period in yoga.

I was kept nattering after yoga, while I noted the woman in front of me during the class made a hasty retreat. And lo, if there wasn't a woman just like her when I was walking back; the same height, build and hair with that straight ahead look, only the clothes and face were different. It has been apparent for some time that the perps posess the ability to change body features, and it seems that changing facial features is the simplest and that it can be done in less than 10 minutes in my experience. When on the street she was decked out in a bold mid-green colored top and black pants, so I assume the perps are attempting to condition me to this color in new circumstances. She was wearing a white top for all of yoga and black pants. Anyhow, it is one of the more harmless stunts that I get exposed to, but it always leaves me wondering if it isn't someone I know well from earlier days. There has been plenty of past friends and colleagues involved in the ongoing harassment, but I never know to what degree.

And it was a big deal after yoga as a Chicken Run was needed. These are the days when I purchase hot cooked chicken that then serves as my protien source for the next two weeks. It is now a half chicken due to the new lower food intake and associated leftover tortilla stack games the perps have arranged for me. Invariably I am gangstalked all the more on Chicken Run days, and the perps planned it specially so that it would occur after yoga, (also a high gangstalk period), and that the usual eating of it off the carcass for the inital meal. And I did have my gangstalking males hanging around the hot chicken counter; one exchanging locations with me, and a pair on natter/sentry duty in their two tone blue outfits, "happening" to meet and converse in the grocery store right at the location I needed to visit. Just a normal harassment/gangstalking moment, posting these dudes without seeming day jobs all over town.

I had gym in the afternoon and had plenty of ambulatory gangstalkers on my walk there and back, often 10 or more within 60' of me, and even a pair of dudes in red shirts. One had black pants and the other had white pants, the latter fulfilling the hospital staff-like clothing the perps like me to see, likely to stimulate subconscious reactions to the Unfavored. This particular perp theme culminated in one of the more perverse fire alarm events about two months ago. They pulled the fire alarm at lunchtime, and had me take the stais to the first floor lobby and see some idiot male dressed in whites, standing in the doorway of the stopped elevator, and looking like a fish out of water, as he didn't have a cover story. It was just then that someone else said the alarm was over, and I went back up the stairwell, with more gangstalkers coming down of course. The objective of the false alarm was to have me walk downstairs to see some fuckwit operative dressed in white. Go figure.

One freakish male gangstalker "arrived" to walk ahead by 60' at first grasping a pair of boots in his left hand. I get this footwear stalking act about every six months or so, not including my perp-abetting parents playing with their feet at length in the living room while watching TV. The gangstalker with the boots was holding them wide of his torso, as if they smelled and he didn't want them too close to him. They didn't smell, and I assume that he was getting remotely applied gravitic help to hold them in such an uncomfortable manner for so long, over 5 minutes of lead-ahead gangstalking. Then when I was closing in on him to pass by, he stops in the shadow of a utility pole, and only 6" from it, seeming attending to his cell phone, still with the boots in hand. I have no idea whose boots they were, or who this dude was, but what could be the cover story for this piece of stupid theater?

And lo, if the above boot packing dude didn't pass by the "freak stop", leading ahead of me. This is a certain apartment location where there is a 40' wide patch of grass, and for "some reason", the seeming freakish residents are now sitting or squatting outside in some comportment of loitering strangeness. It started out when I was returning from gym, but they have since added a shift of freaks to be in place when I am headed to the gym.

At gym I had the usual shifts of "do-squat" males loitering around me, and it even getting offensive enough to abort my exercises which is probably what the arrangement was all about. I have said it before; I have never seen a gym where 80% of the members were sitting around and doing nothing, but here, it is an everytime occurence. Fucking bizarre.

And another part of this freakshow was what I termed a "Cheech and Chong" act; two seeing Mexicans standing at the same place for over 15 minutes, chatting in Spanish the entire time. First of all, I have never seen any gym member start working out in front of the free weight racks and thereby impeding access to the weights to others. The system is, you select your weights and take them to a bench and work out there, and not start working out in front of the wieght rack. Anyhow, it was the second time the "Cheech and Chong" act have done this, and wasn't too much of a surprise that they followed me to the central wall after their "stand around" act, and then followed me back again to where they had spent 15 minutes standing around.

My usual in-class freaks were there today, the fat ethnic dude "featuring" himself by managing to be seen whenever I looked up, and he also followed me onto some the equipment I had vacated. And the Fatfuck weird also followed me onto the treadmills and then started up beside me. The perps had me pissed over this and curtailed my run to only six minutes. I don't know why they let me run on the treadmill after stopping me from running for over five years, and now they won't let me have at least 10 minutes without jerking me around, e.g imposed accelerated "exhaustion".

I am still in the "special class" at the gym; this means for three of us, we get to do our floor exercises in the public warm up/down area and have others wandering by, and even staring at us as described below. And it also means I get a "feet show" when down on the mat; all these members parading around, and for me to see their feet. This new arrangement means more gangstalkers, more often, and closer than before. It just wasn't enough to have the class members do this in the floor exercise room, now all sorts of weirds can move in close with some ostensible reason. Like I have said before, I think it is time to give this gym thing a rest, and this might be the last straw. Which is probably what is scripted in any event.

I am getting more peripherial vision impairment games of late; these are imposed by direct access to my field of view, and then altering the "seen" contents to what they want, usually of the annoying variety. Now, that kind of depraved harassment has been escalated to create extra movement in my peripherial field that is totally abnormal and never seen before. I don't know quite why they do this except for the ongoing color exposure games that are going on.

I had my 500 to 1,000 vehicle gangstalking when walking to the gym and back, and that many again as parked vehicles. In some locations 8 of 11 vehicles were silver-grey or white, and often there were alternating colors; silver-grey and white, repeated three times with a final deep red metallic fnish vehicle. The emphasis seemed to be more on the whites and silver greys as the mainstay reference colors, and then reds, navy blue and dark green were judiciously added in. The perps are also building up more light tan brown metallic colored vehicles after some 10 minutes of walking, and they often have them cross in front of me, one from each direction.

I got at least two starings today; one weird at the gym, and then a woman at the checkout at the LD store when I stopped by after returning from gym. I wasn't allowed a plastic shopping basket even; all the stacks had gangstalkers dithering over them, and given that it wasn't really needed for one item, mouthwash, it really didn't matter. Anyhow, the woman in front of me gives me this big stare for no reason whatsoever, just before she was to use her debit card that she had been waving around. And lo, if it wasn't from the same bank as mine, and the identical color and livery. This time I paid by cash, but I assume the exposure was to serve as some kind of pre-emptive energy assay on my wallet contents, debit cards included.

The horrendous noise of Harley Davidson motorcycles "passing by" has just ended. After lifting my fingers off my ears to evade listening to it, the perps re-ran the noise again, in two successive iterations. As I have said many times before, there is no biker bar for over five miles, so why all this noise? So far, some six iterations in the last three minutes.

And here is a blog posting from someone who isn't a TI, but is getting targeted by a seeming stalker for no reason. And this is not the first incident either. I often wonder how many others are surveilled and gangstalked but only covertly. There are degrees of escalation of course; influencing employment prospects, creating more chaotic events, increasing the need for maintenance of vehicles, house etc. I hope she isn't being targetted, but when one lives and breathes this kind of stalking everywhere in public from organized individuals with access to one's thoughts, especially evasion, it would not surprise me that this going on to a lesser degree. I read on the excellent Catch Canada site that 15% of all the Canadian stalking complaints are by those who don't know who the stalker is.

More loud ripping chopped Harley noise; they have increased this noise today, and even put on extra motorcycles today when walking to the gym and back. They even put a parked motorcycle outside the yoga class for me to see when exiting. I did not hear it arrive, and yet it was there afterward. As this is at least the third time that this motorcycle has "arrived" without being heard, I am assuming it was teleported into place, a common event around me. It is odd that the perps would pass up an opportunity to blast me with motorcycle noise, but I am wholly ignorant of all the considerations they incurr when they play their dumbshit games.

The latest in jerking me arround is blocking the Save function in blogger, to stop me from updating my template. It most likely the perps dropped the notion in mind in the first place, and the first thing they do is thwart my intention (their planted intention actually). Most TI's know this is an ongoing perp harassment method; set up a scenario and then sabotage the victim's capabilities in dealing with the imposed situation. Big fun and games for sickos.

The seeming "neighbor" vacuuming noise has started up for the fifth time today; it has a habit of turning on when I am being provoked by perp fuckery, or when I have my headphones on (magnets at my ears). The first instance of this noise began when I was making dinner and in a forced rant. Then it "happened" again, and each instance is of a sufficient duration to do the floors of these small apartments twice over. With all the clicking, clanking and marble dropping on smooth concrete floor noise that I hear throughout the day one would think that these "folks" upstairs don't have a carpeted floor and need only sweep them. No matter, all the noise is projected from a remote location on an as needed basis and the cover story really doesn't matter it seems.

Time to blog off and call this one done.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Chocolate as a Perp Highlight

All regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed over the color brown and take no end of liberties to ensure that I get plenty of exposure to this color. One method they have is to control my "need" for chocolate, something they do to the tune of $120 per month in 100g bars, twice I day. I cannot, or am not allowed to refrain, and I never had this problem before they struck me with overt harassment in 2002.

Therefore it is no surprise that the perps arrange 100g of chocolate for breakfast, and then again at a mid afternoon teatime. And of course, noisestalking and other planted phenomenon from their repetoire of stunts. Today it was the hallway originating sound of the apartment manager walking and talking by, and then doing his pre-apartment entry statement of intention to enter. And of course it is timed just when the first piece is in hand, and later when I have refilled my mug to eat the final last section. On the scale of impositional harassment, this is fairly low, and this is more to demonstrate the games that go on with specific colors and associated neural response to the impositions at the same circumstance. And for typing that, I just got nailed with a zapping and an coincident overhead pounding noise. Funny how these phenomen erupt just when I might be doing some thinking for myself instead of being a vehicle for this grotesque depravity called nonconsensual mind control research.

Anyhow, it would seem that the perps are working on some kind of male - female association that I might make with persons, especially when reading blogs. If I know the author to be female, the perps block that knowledge and replace it with the planted notion the author is male, and then when in mid-read, they let me in on what I do know, and would not forget. Call it thought substitution, and from their perspective, the more incorrect the planted notion, the better they like it. Other games include planting totally incorrect recall, something I never do, and have it play as if it was correct, and then later let me access the knowledge that I do have. It is fucking outrageous that I am not allowed access to my own thoughts.

And I see that my usual call into a regular volunteer bureau will be arranged to have a male, instead of the woman who runs the operation and whom I have met. Obviously, this stunt/obsession has a long way to go, and it might relate to the Unfavored demographic groups, one being adult males, the likely perpetrators of traumatizations in the 1950's. This is the scenario the perps have planted at least, though much of their gangstalking revolves around this concept, and that the membership is relatively consistent. There has been no end of shiftless loitering males in the ambulatory gangstalker cast for the past few weeks, something I have remarked on before, and it is not entirely the vagrant acts by any means. It is plain fucking strange to have two middle aged MIB's in the elevator lobby in this apartment block, mostly consisting of studio warrens for the student population. That was yesterday's opening gangstalking display, and having them both on cell phones was another absurdity, all for the localized and greater electromagnetic field and associated vocalizations of male voices it would seem. And one was a skinhead no less, the most disgusting hair cover going.

I have yet to buy the perps line that the male skinhead act is to replicate long ago traumatizations related to seeing aliens when I was very young. As regular readers will know, the perps seem to be attempting to create subconscious reactions/recall to subconscious traumatizations recall related to their past nefarious deeds and subsequent memory deletion fuckery. They also have their gangstalkers wear hoodies over their heads, even when unneeded, again, simulating a more alien like body form in part. I don't know if I saw any aliens, and I don't care. I want to be left alone and not have this constant parade of freaks and freakishness going on around me. It is not my problem, so why am I being hounded over some other agency's grevious fuckups of the long past?

The only answer I get to that is a clunk and a maser spot exactly over where I am typing. Not good enough from the assholes who have likely governed my every breath and food intake. It is their problem and does not need me in any way; why don't they fuck their own instead of life-raping innocent citizens for six years and counting?

Today looks to be a shut-in day, as are most Wednesdays of late. I don't know why they have this schedule of inaction for me, but it is consistent with the long past, the pre-2002 overt harassment days even. It is just plain fucking tiresome, having nothing much to do. If I attempted to read a book off script, they would dither my reading to prevent it from happening. If I attempted to go for a walk they would swarm me and make the event pointless. As mentioned in past blogs, there has been employer arranged lapses in their project plans where nothing was scheduled, due to the
conditions under their control.

I am being beamed upon, noted in past blogs at dusk onset.. The last post with pictures showed the three buildings that are used as putative reflection sources, though I suspect it is the perps pulling their plasma lighting tricks again. This means that a seeming sunlight beam is coming through the window and lighting up my keyboard as I type. Some shadow flashes are also being displayed; these are where a momentary darkness flashes in my apartment. I don't know of any conventional physical cover story that could account for that, as anything is possible diven the apparent control over materiality and physicality that is routine around me.

The horrendous Harley Davidson motorcycle noises were started up for 20 minutes before dinner, and continued for at least 40 minutes afterward. I reckon some neural noisetracking was the reason for this, as it seems that food digestion is a problematic juncture for the perps. It may be the color of the food and the stomach contents and of course the ongoing digestive processes. Again, it is not my problem so why am I the poster boy for remotely applied abuse?

This time I get the faux dog barking noise as an answer; there are no residential properties around here that would have dogs, and so the prospect is remote that there is a walked dog that barks with such unerring timing. I am also getting more plasma flashed at me today; little augmentations to the shape or color of something in peripherial vision and when I move my gaze to my central vision, the plasma augmentation activity is immediately stopped. One is not allowed to know what they are seeing in perpworld, this unconventional hell that I have been cast into. And of course the abettance of all whom I meet and have known; they were in on the abuse when I came to know them, and of course never said anything. Only once was I allowed a hint; while at a casual lunch, my then boss said, "trust no one". And of course I was not allowed any analytical thought to question such a draconian perspective, and was left pondering this statement ever since. Once this constant hell was made known to me, that remark mader perfect sense. And of course I am not allowed to follow that advice and am routinely controlled to "forget" and interact with the quisling community that runs river deep in this city. There must be other TI's here that are being kept from me, as I cannot see how the perps can justify a whole city takeover for one harassment subject.

A horrific loud mufflered vehicle noise erupted as I changed web pages; it is most strange how they can erupt without any prior warning of approach.

A very loud ripping Harley Davidson motorcycle noise erupted after having the headphones on for all of 30 seconds. This repeats the timing of such intrusive noise in coordination with the same activity.

I have been listening to music samples on CD Baby. The samples are tactically ended as I do the usual noisestalked activities of copy, cut, paste, bookmark, selecting a new web page, visiting the bookmark manager etc. Someone is timing the interuption of music, i.e. the end of the sample, at the instant I perform these minutae that are of abiding interest to the perps.

And now the knee torquing torture is upon me. Time to blog off on this dull shut-in day and call it done.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

MIB's in the Lobby + 05-28-2008 Updates

I did my once per three months trip to the bank to get rolls of coins for the 20 year old coin operated laundry machines in this building. This is always a big deal for the perps, as they get me out on the street about 1.5 hours after eating breakfast, which for them, is a big deal. Normally, they like to keep me shut-in until I have my regularly scheduled gym class later in the afternoon. And it was a large force out on duty, beginning with the first floor elevator lobby. Two Men In Black (suits) were both on their cell phones, 4' from each other, pretending to be doing business deals in this predominantly bachelor pad apartment block. One leaning against the gold color finished mailboxes was in skinhead mode, the clean shaven disgusting pate for me to see, and then another forced look while I was exiting the door. I find that "hairstyle" disgusting for whatever reason, and the perps make no bones about forcing me to "react" to it unlike ever before. That is of course, one of the Unfavored appearences, along with suits, and then having this scum loiter and pretend to be engaged in a business activity was borderline hilarious.

I got another MIB later on the street, this dude in black fleece and in hikey-bikey clothing, the more universal standard dress in this town. He also had the derigeur silver colored plastic headphones on, not unlike the ones the perps force me to wear after sabotaging three pairs of them, including my Grados of which I am fond.

Another MIB in fleece arrived in the bank behind me, with his white plastic bag no less, presumably containing some deposit money. And he chose the wicket next to me, not that he was addressed by the staff as to which one, as that had been arranged it seemed. I don't know what the deal is with the MIB's this morning, but they were out in greater number at more obvious locations. These are not the MIB's of the 1950's with semi-human features and their hats, but normal looking humans in (mostly) context appropriate styles. Later, I got the males in off-white raincoats, two together, also looking totally stupid with no rain in the offing.

There were other countless acts parading around me when I was out for the two block visit to the bank; one was Cheersing ahead of me, dropping into stores for 20 seconds or so and then proceeding onward, as if he was exchanging greetings among all the proprietors. Straight out of a bad movie, along with his vile brown-yellow pants, the extra wide arm pose, the shabby brown briefcase and the absurd no socks, only barefeet in his shoes. Anyhow, I was allowed to walk past this act, after he got ahead by crossing on the Don't Walk which was arranged to have no crossing traffic. Funny that he was in such a hurry to cross the street against the signal and then "socialized" his way along the stores ahead of me.

I also got the vagrants show; native Indians are playing big these days, and making them look extra stupid in red caps and red jackets with extra large sunglasses for a no-sun day seemed to be important.

Regular readers will know that the perps are also obsessed about my laundry, and have even placed the cell phoning seeming apartment manager outside the door while I was inside. There wasn't any major laundry harassment so far today, but I have yet to extract it from the dryer and go through the hassle of folding it. The perps routinely make this deed a major rage-ification event.

And it would seem that the scripting sickos have returned from their long weekend holiday, rage-ifying my by foiling my finger control to pick up an insect they planted on the stove top. There were other stunts such as crumb inundation where some 20 bread crumbs burst out from the bread after I bit into it. This is the mentality of the sickos I deal with all day long.

Last night wasn't too bad as Mondays go; "only" an hour of being kept awake and having the sensations of insects crawling on me, all to have me scratch them off to make contact with my hand on my face, eyebrow, head etc. doing their work for them as they lack the gumption to show up and conduct their experimentation in person. And they usually plant a real insect into this session of faked creepie crawlies, and lo, if it didn't get plastered under my thumb on the wall with a 3/4" seeming blood burst. (I have had no bites to date). In the morning, it "so happened" that some kind of odd black liquid seeped out, all to force me to clean it up before changing into my clothes and disrupting the normal order of events. And saddling me with extra hand washing at that time is also a big deal for them. I have never washed my hands so much before they struck in 2002.

And I made lunch from scratch today following laundry folding and putting away. The perps are back to rage-ifying me with extra sounds and touches of no apparent causal, and then garbling my vocalizations at these affronts, all to enrage me all the more. This has been typical of the past four weeks as it would seem the perps are "needing" to crank me up all the more, as it is their first choice as to harassment method. In between, they had me take my Tuesday crap, and ensured I used the towel cleaned last week to dry myself, stand on the newly laundered towel, and later wash my hands again with the dish towel and the new dishes detergent with the just-laundered dish towel. The perps have been ragging me to undertake extra handwashing, and have created stunts to do so, starting with the above mentioned squashed bug fuckery that was cleaned before I had even got my clothes on.

The new system at gym turned out to be the gangstalking event I thought it would be; this is in lieu of the organized class in the floor exercise room. The "experienced" class members now get to work out in the public warm up/down area; this means while I am stretched out on the mat, no end of fuckers are parading around me, and I get controlled to look at their feet. So, I looked at a wall instead, and lo, if the coordinator didn't arrive and park his feet in my view, on the pretense of asking me about how I wanted to deal with the new exercise book. The drift was that he and the other coordinator were asking about how I felt about this new (gangstalk conducive) "format", and I told them it was like there was no real class, just us doing our own thing. Anyhow, the perps kept playing this up in mind, so I don't know what the big deal is.

I had a three freak class, mostly they kept out of sight save for that digusting Ethnic Gut dude, who made sure I saw his new skinhead haircut more than once, "happening" to be in my view at least a half dozen times. And I see one of the class "irregulars", who comes for big gangstalking days like today was there in an absurd flesh brown shirt and kept hanging around me for the first 10 minutes. Later on my way back, he trailed me on my way back for 20 minutes on the opposite side of the street. Funny, as he was there from the get go, presumably more "experienced" and they didn't put him in the new "non-class" public area. I sense the perps were attempting to do some through the wall bioenergetics games, and he was the reference fucker for the floor exercise room. I have a sneaking suspicion he might be my brother in morphover, as they bring him out for big gangstalk days at the gym, and have him tail me extensively.

In other words, the entire gym thing sucks, and by perp design. This twice a week activity involves a 30 minute walk each way, and I work out for an hour, so if I drop it, a big part of my exercise routine is dispensed with. But as I am getting severe vision perturbances each time when I come back, it suggests that it is the same situation when they had me quit hiking. For the three months prior to stopping hiking the perps would dish out heavy irradiations that would mess with my vision, much the same as now. I took this to be irradiating me up to a specific level, something they couldn't realistically do when I was on a backwoods trail for three hours, or the half hour drive back. It seemed that the physical activity depleted their energetic irradiations more than they could apply to me as I was always moving. So, they topped me up with vision buggering extra dosage for some four hours once I got back. It seems that the same thing is happening now; the 30 minute walk there, the work out, and the 30 minute walk back is too much for them to keep me irradiated at their current base level, so they apply extra once I get back and settled in my place, in front of the LCD display where some of it comes from.

The perps pulled another checkout obstruction stunt at the supermarket again today; all I needed was goat milk, and they had all checkouts jammed with their shills and operatives. The strange curly headed dude in front of me in the checkout line came in parallel with his operative confreres from the aisles, and yet he had no groceries in hand. Closer to the checkout, he goes to the ice freezer by the store windows and returns to the line with a plastic bagful of ice. If that is all he needed, they why was he in the aisle area, beating me to the checkout, when he didn't need to go there? Just another anomaly for me to ponder, one of those purposeful ones, like the freakshow they put on outside this one apartment building.

And while at the tiresome checkout obstruction stunt I noted that one malingering customer/gangstalker was putting her navy blue colored appointment calendar in hand on display, making sure I saw the thing in her hand for some reason. Why she even had it out and not in her briefcase is even more curious, making out she was a business person doing grocery shopping at 1600h on a weekday, and "for some reason" needed it when protractedly picking up her groceries. And so, when I got outside and turned 90 degrees to head to my place, there was the blond male halfwit act some 80' distant, the one who loiters in this building and sometimes makes himself out to be a employee, standing in mid sidewalk for no apparent reason, dressed in grey pants and a navy blue jacket. It would seem that the perps were attempting to correlate the grey (dude in front of me) and navy blue (appointment calendar act) colors when inside the supermarket to those I was to see outside, "happening" to be worn by a more persistent gangstalker/operative who skulks around this building. (And who might be someone I know in morphover). Which tells me, if this is where the perps are at, color correlations at one location to another, 80' apart under differing lighting conditions and directions, then they have years to go on this depravity streak.

This one location on my walk to/from the gym I call the freakstop; not unlike a busstop, except these over-obvious loafers are strutting their beer guts in profile for me to see, doing nothing but stand on the grass and smoking cigarettes. There was two at this location today, both of the odd persuasion, and loitering for no genuine reason except to look stupid.

And I got plenty of larged gutted males wandering around me at the gym, at this new setup where it is like being in a train station for all the gangstalkers wandering around me. I suppose the perps "need" to add more variety, and having the class member rotation wasn't enough. So now, more large gutted males (two Unfavored attributes there) wearing brown and red clothing (two more Unfavored attributes) hanging around was just what was needed. The facility rebuild began in 2003, the year they figured out this was a long haul harassment fuckover. And seemingly, it isn't enough to have two shades of brown occluded rubber chips in the black rubber floor. Now they have to put more fuckers around me, as loathsome as it is. And in fact, the perps had me over-react and put away my pad prematurely. Which is another reason this gym act needs to go; having me behave unlike how I usually do is pissing me off, and the less opportunities for this kind of fuckery, the better. Why not cooperatively arrange a weekly vagrant fashion show for me instead, and then other variants of the Unfavored in later showings?

I get plenty of ambulatory gangstalkers on my walking route, more than before; I reckon there was at least 80 all told, not counting the ones outside the shopping area. There were more shiftless males without a seeming day job; I have never seen so many in any town loitering around as they do. Even the posted bus schedules at the busstops are "interesting" and then they wander off.

And the all-time honor of the vagrant show was awarded by inference today. The perps had lined up seven shopping baskets side by side with the usual assortment of plastic bags, tin cans, plastic bottles etc. Except there were only two vagrants at best tending to the shopping cart parade, with the remainder of them missing. These unusual agglomerations of motive gangstalking devices are unusual, but the same deal has gone on with utility boom trucks. It wasn't enough to have one for me to drive under, then it was two, then three, and recently, they had be walk by four of them, one "doing time" idling on the other side of the road.

Regular readers will know that I frequently get gangstalked with the vagrant-with-shopping-basket act, and recently they had them in trains of twos and threes, making out that the the vagrant community was one big happy family and all they had to do was find each other. The shopping carts were not local, some coming from at least three miles away, and even the rare plastic basket kind. As the perps are obsessed over plastics in my proximity, and likely all bioenergetic interactions, they sometimes "need" to up the plastic interaction. So, only last week, they had one supposed vagrant hop inside the plastic basketed shopping cart to be pushed by another one in mid-street, ashphalt surfaced. And here I thought that was the highlight/honor of the vagrant division, but no, a seven basket parking job beside the sidewalk that I walked past on. I assume they wanted more cart interaction, and had the vagrants "disappear", hence this absurdity. Or, at least, for this city, as there hasn't been even half of the vagrants before the harassment started up, and more to the point, since I moved to this location.

And from last week, the gym class member I called AA was on my tail again when leaving the building, and then doing the half-on jacket routine when outside. I cannot count the number of shills and operatives half wearing their jackets or sweaters, or else changing them in my proximity. It gets totally nutty all these extra garments being packed around, or grasped or draped over their arm or shoulders, like a professional waiter might do with a towel. Bizarre.

An overhead pounding with a zap erupted when I had the earmuffs on; that they are made from plastic and aren't worn for longer than 10 minutes or so until some ruction makes them pointless to have on. This seems to be one of the biggest games going; on and offing the earmuffs, and of course, noxious acoustical effects to cause me to put them on in the first place.

Another sudden pounding and a zapping and an instant "over reaction" to this ongoing fuckover stunt. Now the other noises are chiming in as well. I have been getting pointless no-one-there phone calls of late, usually in the evening and largely coincident with web page and navigation events that interest the perps, e.g. bookmarking, copy and paste etc.

A 10.5 hour sleep and then a rage-ified morning. The big event for the perps was to force a "forget" in getting a new loaf of bread from the freezer yesterday, something I don't forget when finishing up a loaf. And then have the slice thawed in the oven on a broil setting. As part of the fuckery, the glass dish I was going to use was dusted with some white debris, so I was obliged to put the bread directly on the oven rack. As I did, a sunflower seed erupted from nowhere to arrive below on the bottom of the oven. Cleaning the dish and the unexpected unavailibility of the bread slice created extra wait time, and lo, if the assholes didn't fill it with putting two insects on the wall for me to deal with. No associated blood bursts on the wall this time, but it created more back and forth from carpeted area to the kitchen action for the perps, and that is what they like, after disruption of routines. Anyhow, it was no doubt an exciting jerkaround for tha assholes, and this serves only as one example of how they plot out this fuckery and on what pretense and the degree of detail. I go through a loaf of bread every 20 days or so, and I am sure they will have something next in mind. Even dealing with the plastic bag seal got noisestalked with the portable overhead thudding noise. (This is a concrete and steel building with 12" thick floors- go figure.)

Monday, May 26, 2008

Buzzy Mondays

I am being rendered into a spaced-out state today, a situation I don't care for one bit. It seems that Mondays, the day I return from a night at my perp-abetting parents' place, is the day they like to apply all what they "learned", harassment and mind control energetics, to me at my place.

That is the simplest explanation, as I sleep in the room that was normally mine, and it "so happens" my mother sleeps there most other days of the week. Some early morning thumping was going on, but I was too sleepy to know if it was the extra-active crows or an operative who can teleport into the atic. Yes, this has happened more than once in the mid-2003 days before I found my own suite and became the biggest activity magnet this city has ever known. And today, the perps upped the vehicular traffic outside in this non-thoroughfare residential (subdivision) street; they put on a constant stream of traffic as if a new commuting route had been discovered by many hundreds of seemingly disparate drivers.

And it was no surprise that my morning gardening maintenance activities took me to the front of the house where they put on the usual retinue of gangstalkers; the Plastic Bag Man, the pitlamping vehicles "pondering" their route in mid-street, the walkers and then the group with both a wheelchair and a halfwit act. Just like downtown, except delivered here to this sleepy subdivision house in a residential area while I was in the front yard to see all this transpire. Regular readers will know how much I loathe the sight of wheelchairs, and also know that the perps constantly stoke this by placing them around me wherever they can, including last week's stunning display of the operative sunning himself in the horizontal 3' off the ground in a public shopping area with the aid of controlled surfaces of the supposed wheelchair.

The masers and the plasma beams were flipping around the living room last night, and they also were especially strong when the very attractive blonde meteorologist was speaking about the weather. I can never get enough of watching her, and invariably the perps plan the dinner activities around disrupting me during her part of the news broadcast. They have me cut the roast then while overhearing her from the kitchen, they have me arrive in the living room partway through her broadcast, and a whole range of other variations. Yesterday, they arranged the game for me to see her last minute of the weather report, and then again at the news wrap up, just when the fuzzy maser ball came off the TV and toward me. The maser ball took at least a second or two to cover the 10' from the CRT TV, but it was decidedly aimed at me from the image of her. Anyhow, more TV schedule games came on later, and even my mother BS-ing about a certain show, only to find she "got it wrong", and it was the US Memorial Day ceremony at the Whitehouse on PBS. And of course the perps went and emo-trashed me, planting excessive and uncharacteristic emotional reaction to the ceremony that wouldn't cause me any duress whatsoever, if left alone.

Then more TV shows while at my parents' last night; British series, New Tricks, with an attractive blonde woman as the supervisor of retired dectectives brought back to look at cold cases. Regular readers will know that the perps like me to be exposed to UK accents and often top it with a Scottish accent. And they did; one of the characters in the show had a Scottish accent. The perps tell me this is to stimulate an adverse subconscious reaction to one of the Unfavored demographic group members. Their rationale is that I once met the infamous Dr. Ewen Cameron when he was at McGill and we stayed in Montreal in 1956-7. I have no recollection of this, and there are many other disturbing lapses of recall in my developmental years that the perps must of deleted. The damage was done, and the fuckers cannot remove them, or at least until recently, as they chase me all over with the Unfavored, and insert the odd Favored, often an attractive blonde woman, in the picture. Yesterday's swarm around me in the elevator lobby of this apartment building was an example; some 8 dudes and one attractive woman in a crimson dress with black hair. All too strange for a mid-Sunday afternoon to get my mailbox cleaned out.

I am getting beamed in the nuts currently, and am pissed off that this torture is going on. The perps have been upping the harassment of late, possibly because they see some benefits around the corner.

Now the tapping noise has started up, and it is time I stopped journalling to get something to eat.

The dusk onset focussed "reflections" are coming into my apartment; these are the faux reflections (plasma beams) of the setting sun off the opposite residential towers that "somehow" find their unerring way to my apartment at this time of day. There have been photographs in the postings of the last two weeks, and apart from troving through them, I will pass on supplying a link. There are three contributing residential towers in fact; the closet one is about 120' away, and has differing windows as the putative source, and today, has the outside lighting on in joining in the fray of casting illumination at this time. There is plenty of light here at this time of day and no reason for any streetlights or like. The other two towers also contribute; the Mosaic building usually about 1700h with the shutttered reflective venetian blinds has also been shown in recent past bloggings. See below for a exposition of the three beaming residential towers.

Regular readers will know that I live in a world where the color, quality, quantity and source of all lighting is highly managed, and that the responsible omnipotent party has an abiding need to perform their research at dusk time more than any other. My understanding is that there is a biological shift from the use of certain eye cell types, the rods and the cones, and the assholes cannot yet figure this out after 53 years of surrepticious research. Yet another case of their problem being made mine without any agreement on my part. This problem might relate to their ongoing research objectives of 100% mind control, or it may relate to their other objectives such as zapping and clunking from overhead when I "happened" to read the very name of this city in a web page about shipping container houses.

The entire shipping container as housing modules craze seems to be highly featured in the web pages I regularly view. I suppose this is only a variation on the inordinate amount of time my mind-keepers have me look at stereo components, also very box like in their shape. There is no genuine reason to view stereo components as I cannot afford them and I am constantly harassed as to what I am allowed to hear, see or read. I have had three CD players go kaput, one of which was repaired even. It was a NAD player, and they are very reliable. Which suggests some asshole can remotely and dynamically disrupt the circuitry any time they like. This has also been my experience with headphones (down four pairs) and gauss meters (down three).

I am getting more plastic bag stalking today, even as I type this. I see an operative was dragging one across the courtyard of the opposite building, and my mother was also in on this gig at her place in a number of capacities. She brought out a plastic garbage bag for the plants I dug up earlier this morning. She also had a number of nested plastic plant pots on the kitchen counter for no seeming reason, and she also helped out by sitting on a plastic plant pot when I was digging up another weed for her. The faux vagrants and street scum were on duty when I drove into downtown with her today; a green plastic tote was at the corner I turned, and a extra-loitering (faux) vagrant with his green plastic backpack wrappings (garbage bags), was close to the vehicle when I got out of the vehicle outside my apartment building. The seeming apartment manager was also on a rare street sweeping exercise when I pulled in, with plastic scoop bucket and broom. (But he somehow "missed" the brown colored cigarette butt at the front door). In all, the perps put on close to 40 ambulatory gangstalkers for my arrival when I got out of my parent's vehicle, and a 20' walk to the apartment doors. I have been inundated with ambulatory gangstalkers in other locations after exiting a vehicle after driving, so this flush of fuckers at this juncture is nothing new. The apparent scenario is that their obsessions over colors (red, brown, yellow predominantly), plastics, the Unfavored, and whatever else are all intertwined, and so having combinations and permutations of these is all part of the ongoing harassment/nonconsensual human experimentation. Regular readers will recall that I sometimes get an an attractive blonde woman gangstalker wearing brown as a "starter" color and specimen when first setting out or arriving at a locale. Then more of the Unfavored colors and human specimens are trotted out for me to see, and presumably energetically interact with for the benefit of the remote mind-keepers.

Taken 05-19-2008, 1744h. This is taken to demonstrate yet more parking orchestrations; the two silver-grey vehicles, one each side of the tree that has finally flushed out in leaf. And to the leftmost on the street parking, the ridiculous, but often used, tractor unit parked on the street at this time of day. It is likely placed there for a large mass of navy blue color, both in fiberglas (the air dam) and the cab, in steel.

Taken 05-19-2008, 1744h. This is the source of the beam as the camera conveys it; a blanked out looking sliding glass door, and the adjacent smaller window. This came from higher up than the photograph above.

A close-up of above. A rather strange bronzing color of the window mullions is also visible.

Taken 05-26-2008, 1842h, today, a short time ago. This must be all about feeding the story; I blog about it (above), and then I get the opportunity to photograph what I was blogging about. This is the N. most tower of the three, and is last in the rotation of "reflective" windows to beam into my apartment. As best as I can tell, the "reflection" isn't even coming off a window, the plasma source is located independently.

The original shot of the above, showing the dark clouds to increase the greyness and the contrast.

This has been posted before. This is tower number one with the supposed contiguous residents combining to have their venetian blinds down and at the same setting for blocking, aka faux reflecting, the later afternoon sun. Taken 05-16-2008, 1513h. All these "reflections" end up in my apartment, because how else would it be arranged?

An extended cascade of loud sirens erupted as I was looking at a web page about Mars, relating to its geology, and not today's landing of the Phoenix. But as Mars is topical, the perps feel they must "sample me" with other stories, separating the content into various decompostion topics; Mars, story, story provenance etc. Then, as if that wasn't enough, they planted the sensation of an insect crawling on my right neck, not once, but twice, all to incur more right hand (mouse hand) contact with me. The number of operatives scratching their heads or necks at any given time has increased of late, and the assholes are using the imposed "creepy crawlie" sensations to exact more remotely conducted measurement possibilities.

My regular Monday crap finally came due. I will spare the details, but the worst of it is the perps planting these strange anal sensations afterward. And lo, if it isn't simultaneous with this strange rash sensations on my right thigh; only sensation though, no actual rash. This faux rash has been on and off for months, but as Mondays are high harassment days, it would seem that the perps are likely mapping these two sensations together in bioenergetic terms. There are no coincidences in my life as I have come to know it. And no one has even come close to explaining this model in any other way. Now the overhead pounding has started up, likely for post-crap neural mapping. Regular readers will know of the perps obsession with all things brown, and that it culminates when taking a crap. I will leave it at that.

More insect games; arrivals of two insects tonight on my arm after the above mentioned creepy crawlie sensations. All to force me to get up and deal with it as well as have me wash my hands in the kitchen using blue colored dish detergent. The most arcane and infinitesimal of activities is highly scrutinized and arranged, especially if it falls outside the habitual.

Time to call this day done and ponder what nightime games are going to unfold; keeping me awake on Monday nights is now "routine", and the insect harassment sensations are gathering importance.

Sunday, May 25, 2008

No Particular Grist

The title means there isn't any major harassment or related assaults, only the dull roar level of clunking from "neighbors", street shouting, maser and plasma vision impairments and some of the amplified vehicle noise. The perps main harassment script writers seem to be on holiday this weekend. Even yesterday's trip to the supermarket was low key, save the vagrant clusters that are now forming in my proximity outside. It was three days ago that a cluster of ambulatory vagrants, at least four of them, had a plastic basketed shopping cart (not a local one), and had one of their kind sitting in the cart being pushed by another vagrant in mid-street, 20' from the crosswalk, and coming toward me. The perp's fixation over plastics goes to this level of absurdity at times. And I see the opposite residential tower has two white vinyl chairs on one balcony now, presumably as a persistent surrogate for all those irrigation service vehicles with bundles of PVC pipe on the roof rack that course around me when I am out.

It is indeed strange to have a lapse of the harassment games; the rage-ification of the past three weeks has been relaxed somewhat, though probably not for long once the real sickos get back to work on Tuesday, this being a US holiday, the Memorial Day weekend. Even the wretched loud mufflered vehicle noises and the Harley motorcycle noises have been reduced from yesterday's levels, though still with the same unerring timing, coming on when I have two hands busy, and unable to plug my ears.

The perps gave me a 10.5 hour sleep last night, and had me waking up in a dream state in a typical impasse situation in dealing with the ex. I don't miss those days one bit, dealing with a fucking idiot that was incapable of learning much, and totally obdurate and inflexible as well as covering off the huge lie of being an agent of the perps for the 20 years that went on. The first 10 years were OK, but the latter 10 were ugly owing to a sudden behavior change that was unfathomable at the time, and I could never figure it out. She had no rational explanation for it. But now I know, she was mind-controlled, and was rescripted to be unpleasant once we had a child. I have had other individuals in my life go suddenly unpleasant for no apparent reason, and it seems this behavior control model fits the pattern. Cranking up my angst and exasperation was part of the plan, as much as rage-ifying me all day long is. Those days are done thankfully, and our daughter's high school graduation is in late June. I wonder what the script writers have in mind for that, especially with the gowns and suits.

The post tea and chocolate noise flurries are starting up; the door thudding, the loud mufflered vehicles parading outside etc. Ang getting me cranked up with typo sabotage as I key this in.

Before putting on the kettle I went down to my mailbox to unload it for the week, and what a mistake that was, assuming I had any choice in it of course. I put my runners on, went to the elevator and pressed the down button on the recently modified wall, read, wallpaper removal. The elevator took an inordinant amount of time to arrive, and then came with two dudes onboard, one eating a sandwich and dropping crumbs. That would be "bread stalking" by my definition, not to mention an excuse to keep his mouth open. Then another stop, and a suspicious woman came on board, and finally it made it to the ground floor where two more dudes were waiting with their brown cardboard boxes and gathered them up as I exited. The other elevator also "happened" to arrive, and out steps a slinky babe in red, and a dude in a white colored outfit. After negotiating the people maze, I got to my mailbox and sorted out the flyers from the real mail, a 10 to 1 ratio after a week. Once I finished, I walked back into the lobby an viewed the street outside while heading for the elevator. There were at least three parties of dudes arranged in a T shape at varying distances and sunlit conditions; one party 6' from the building in shade, another party 20' away at the closest sidewalk portion in the shade, and a third party 60' away on the opposite sidewalk in the sun. And lo, if they didn't pass ambulatory gangstalkers in between these parties, also dudes.

That entire arrangement preceded making tea, and then frinking it with chocolate, the perps favorite food for me to eat because it is brown colored. This goes to show how instantly one can go from minimal harassment to high harassment even on a Sunday afternoon. The noise flurries are also ramping up as I continue this, and perhaps I should call this one done for the day. I will be heading out shortly to stay with the First Feral Family tonight, and won't likely be back in the blogger's seat until this time Monday (26th).

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Coordinated Overhead Thuds

I am in a lazy mood today, all to manage the imposed boredom of my mind-keepers. And laziness is a highly governed mind-state/predilection I have come to know. All those odd moments of past decades of inexplicable torpor now make sense in the paradigm of being mind-controlled.

I was allowed out today to get a new watchband after the last one began splitting, and then onto the local supermarket with my vagrant posse of gangstalkers all around me until I got inside. Then it was the "regular" freaks ditzing in my path, and putting on incongrous acts of association and aisleway dithering and retracing their steps in front of me. I noticed that some of the stationary (parked) brown colored vehicles are a deeper brown than the light metallic tan color that is the current rage. It would seem that the perps are on increasing brown color exposure quest, aided in part by greyscale vehicles nearby, white, silver-grey, mid-grey and black colors.

The perps also planned the day such that my weekly allowed newspaper reading occured before going online which was scripted after lunch. It is rare that they don't have me go online first thing once my dental hygeine and shower is done after breakfast.

The jewellers that I went to for a new watch strap are Asian, and oddly, there were two extra Asians there behind the counter, presumably for more color sampling; brown skinned Asians in bight green and navy blue colored tops. When I got back to the apartment, a native Indian was sitting in the first floor lobby couch doing nothing but keeping his white pant covered legs apart as much as he could, as well as looking at nothing. He being browner than the Asians. Regular readers will know that the perps are utterly consumed with presenting me with brown colors of all objects, materials and beings. The more the brown combinations the better. Hence my much noisestalked breakfast of cereal, peanut butter and jam on bread, chocolate and all with coffee. All brown substances, and all of significant interest by the perps, as denoted by the managed noises that are coincident with me touching, chewing or otherwise handling these foods.

I am getting the overhead rumbling and squeaking currently and it has been timed exactly to when I touch something, or concieve or type any of the keywords of the day. When in the bathroom after breakfast, and when I touched my pink face cloth to grasp it, I got an immediate overhead thud and a coincident zapping. And of course I yelled at the assholes, which I assume aids their cause. Presently, the noisescape has arranged about 100 motorcycle noise events, and plenty of loud mufflered vehicles and buses too, much more than the bus schedule indicates. Regular readers will know that these are mostly noise-only events, and not by real world causal. The perps capability in projecting any noise to any location is incredible. At one time I could detect the difference as the projected noises always had a metallic ring to them, but they were able to address that problem in 2006 it seemed.

The siren count is much less today, less than five events, and there has been no hallway hacksawing either. I should count myself lucky. I haven't been rage-fied to the levels of the recent past either, which is odd, as normally the weekend is when they get worse. Perhaps the Memorial Day weekend in the US has drawn down the intensity level some. It used to be that weekends were automatically worse, but for now, this is not the case.

There has been an increase in light flashes on the walls and near this LCD display today, and even a "shadow flash" as I call them, where a momentary flash of darker light passes across me and the display.

Another dusk onset "beaming" where the plasma reflection (source) comes off the opposite residential tower and lights up me, this desk and apartment. For some reason they won't let me see the actual offending window as the "reflector", and I am tired of taking more photos of it. These strange reflection beams at this time of day have been photographed in one of this week's blog postings, and I am too lazy to look up the link. And I just saw a 3' x40' horizontal green plasma beam outside that flashed for about a second or so, spectacular even.

Though it is time to bring in more of the lastmost pictures for recording the orchestrated inanity around me, and here are some more.

Taken 05-19-2008, 1719h. This is the opposite house to my parents'; they don't own either of these black colored vehicles, but appear to have "visitors" who do, parking them in file, face to face. I have no idea what caused the flare in the pictures below, and it could be plain extra-conventional fuckery with direct access to my camera. The perps have modified TV shows to have more of this backlit flare as well as create it for me to see.

Beyond the above pair of black vehicles is one more black vehicle 90 degrees offset with three silver grey vehicles at differing orthogonal directions. A rare yellow vehicle is partially obscured, suggesting that the perps need some of both; full direct yellow, and yellow from behind a silver-grey vehicle, one of their favorite reference colors. I suspect a fourth silver-grey vehicle is behind (or "backing") the black vehicle that is ahead of the yellow one.

Three more vehicles in the white and silver-grey combination are on the opposite side of the street and a deep red metallic colored vehicle is buried in this cluster too. A further white or silver grey vehicle is in the distance, looking straight down the street. None of these "neighbors" normally have this many same colored vehicles, save when I am in the neighborhood.

An ongoing procession of loud muffled vehicles is still going on and is coordinated with any scratches to deal with imposed itching. I am also getting the overhead pounding noise, as if the upstairs dweller was capable of pounding the floor while walking back and forth, the floor/ceiling being 12" of reinforced concrete. Another ongoing jerkarounds have been forced smells in my nose, and the knee torquing torture. The latter is the condition where the lower leg is remotely twisted to create pain on the knee joint. I suspect the knee nerves are a deep neurological connection, and the perps leverage this to explore other nerve connections in the same brain region. That is what it seems like at any rate.

The loud mufflered vehicles can take one of two forms; the ill-maintained muffler or exhaust system, or else the "performance" muffler, aka hotrod exhaust system. So far, I estimate some 200 loud mufflered vehicles have "passed by". The quotes refer to the fact that is the apparent noise source, when in fact it is likely projected noise from a remote location. The Harley motorcycle noise is not included in that estimate; I reckon about 80 of them today. The usual proviso applies; there is no bikers bar within five miles, and there is no real expressways around to drive vehicles the speed they sound like they are doing. Just more of the noise show.

More music listening; another muse (Kate Maki) that likely fits the bill for whatever the perps are plumbing for. They like me to listen repetitively to some performers, and also like to introduce new performers on a one time basis. Other variations of this are listening to new cuts of familiar songs, even by the same artist. Even song length is of interest to them; truncated samples or a near album length series of songs. It is all planned in some way, it is just that I don't know the science behind it. Then there is the forced yawning at certain intervals of a song or album; all to expose my mouth contents at the right time it would seem.

Regular readers will know that the perps have a foot fetish; constantly seeking new juxtapositions of my foot, footwear and socks. My father, a purported dementia sufferer, is constantly playing with his feet in my proximity to aid this outrageous abuse he has consigned me to since birth. And when doing floor exercises in the gym, why, there is a whole class of us (me and the perp operatives) displaying feet in a coordinated way; upward, horizontally and in the normal standing orientation. And still the stunts go on; when coming back from gym Thursday (two days ago), and after leaving the LD store after stopping for shopping in this shopping plaza, there was a motorized wheelchair with the seat and surfaces arranged such that the owner/rider was 3' off the ground and totally horizontal, feet facing me, 6' away, as I rounded a corner at the bread shop. The dude was making out that he was sunning himself, lying immobile on his exotic motorized wheelchair; it was fucking absurd to say the least.

Now it could be that the perps are behind this news story, where human right feet are "showing up" in the waters of this region. The count is four so far, and who knows what is going down with where they came from or how they have ended up in local waters. The police don't seem too moved to investigate from what the story suggests. I often wonder if they are a mind controlled arm of the perps, even if as they are actively cooperating with them, at least in this city. There has been too many major police investigations that were slow to start, or even seemed inept. I can never figure out how this happens, and when the perps have such a surrepticious and abiding interest in human bioenergetics, which seems to be aided by incurring victim duress, I wonder if they aren't controlling the whole thing. Just a thought, but it comes from a six year history of seeing too many coincidences arranged around my circumstances.

Time to call this one done, and blog off.