Monday, May 05, 2008

Some Outside Time

I am back from a two hour committment in helping someone move between apartments in an apartment complex. This is the situation where I get exposed to a lot of people's stuff, plastics, brown cardboard boxes and close-in action, aka gangstalking, all high exposure need for the perps. I will spare the details, but one can be sure it was well planned and arranged right down to the street litter placements of brown cigarette butts and other color references for perp use.

The moving took place between apartments; down an elevator, then through the lobby and outside for about 120' and then back into a newly built building. And it "so happened" that my bus buddies when travelling there were also helping to move someone else in a similar fashion to the same new complex. Both of them were packing plastic bags on the bus, and one was a native Indian. And it "so happened" there was another native Indian at the bus stop. And lo, if a third native Indian didn't board the bus after a 90 degree turn, and that they "happened" to know each other. Yet again, there is very few native Indians downtown, but they seem to find me nowadays. And they tailed me to the office of this complex so I could find the suite, as they "happened" to be called out for a similar job. And lo, if the woman at the office wasn't a negro, though legitimately possible, the number that I see is far too disproportionate to that demographic group in this city. Last week, they swarmed me with four negros as the same intersection in two events, three negros at once when outbound, and then one more when returning on the same route and intersection. Regular readers will know that the perps are totally obsessed with the color brown, and this extends to skin color. I don't mean to sound prejudiced, but intend to observe the brown skin as yet another perp planted factor in my netherworld of arranged circumstances and abuse.

And so it "happened" that there were two moving parties using the same doorway, the other party made up from the two dudes on the bus and who tailed me to the apartment office. I suppose it was all about having me interact with the negro woman, and then the native Indian after me. The person moving was a Caucasian retiree, and she had three retiree friends (it seemed) who were also helping. At first they were all over me, ahead, behind, and even running from behind to get ahead to unlock the door. A moving situation has to be one of the best opportunities for the perps to examine someone's belongings in a new context, and usually in contact with other parties aiding the move. My brother once made out his back was sore and that he couldn't help me move, and a year later he was "fine", and helped me move twice since.

There was another dude who was helping out, and he was OK; so it was he and I with four retiree women doing the move. Later, a few retiree men came around to seeming loiter for no reason than the usual gangstalking bullshit. I don't quite understand why the perps are on this track of gradual exposure to older men, as they will gangstalk me all over the place with them at times, and waive the once-typical introductory blonde woman gangstalker.

The move went reasonably OK, even if there were feints and dodges to disrupt me from where I was, then to return again as the suggested idea wasn't doable. I notice this happens at my parent's place as well. And something similar "happened" at the bus shelter. I was sitting there and waiting with three other parties strangely scattered some 30' apart, and the native Indian 2' from me on the bench in the shelter. No big deal. He departs on the first bus, the other parties likewise departed on following buses and then it was just me at the bus shelter. Then this monsterously large woman comes along in a long deep pile black coat with some brown trim, and stands outside the bus shelter some 4' away. Then my bus came, and then she quietly slithers behind me to then sit on the bus shelter bench exactly where I had been sitting. I have had these tail-my-seated-position gangstalkers at the gym before, where they slither in to sit in the same seat I had, within a few seconds of me lifting off from it. One was a negro dude doing the "look-away" act while walking toward me, a patented perp move. Who else would be so fucking stupid as to not look where they were going in a public place? Only them, and often when bearing down on me to create a bullshit disruption event, or even bump into me. I have never seen public behaviors such as this until the harassment started, and it is part of their training to look away when in close quarters so to avoid any eye contact or conveyance of intent; orchestrated dumbfuck public behavior writ large.

I got a ride back into town where I live, in a bright red colored vehicle no less, a color they don't like me to come into much contact with, and go through an elaborate process of introducing me very gradually to. As the vehicle was parked outside the apartment we moved belongings to, I sure there was enough incremental exposure to the color, and to the vehicle.

There were various other activities going on while moving that all play into the standard perp games; the landscapers moving that sour smelling soil that has been placed in at least three other locations on my walking beat, the "hang-around" landscaping lug (also native Indian), the string trimmers (2 cycle engine noise), the gravel slingers and "workers" moving from suite to suite in the new building finishing up on their jobs. One was in a bright red shirt; perhaps a new name might be the Crimson Corps, as so many gangstalkers are wearing red these days.

Tea and chocolate are duly consumed over a break from online activity, surely one of the perps highlights of the day in getting more brown food to pass through my mouth and within an inch of my brain that sits above one's mouth. This imposed chocolate "habit" has been going on for over five years now, at $150/month, and is pissing me off on two accounts; one, I cannot afford it, and two, the perps keep deflavoring the chocolate, making it less enjoyable to eat, and more like shovelling it down. I suspect the perps are dithering my taste buds to eliminate the flavor, as this has also happened to another brand of chocolate that has been known to taste better. And while reviewing the above paragraphs I got a full-on siren cascade to accompany me making edit corrections a typo repairs.

A one tortilla slice dinner, and then back to live online action. That is an ironic term, as my days are decidedly dull, and kept that way. My few colleagues went scarce on me, as did my hiking pals. The most active thing going are the maser and plasma beams flitting about in my vision, with the occasional large display. The perps pulled my attention to look out the window, and there was a 6' by 6" near horizontal green plasma beam, sitting outside over the balcony for about three seconds. The perps have also been inundating me with purple colored plasma beams; they "edge enhanced" the dinner plate with such a beam while I was cleaning it in the sink. They then did the same to the edges of the Windows display. And of course, other purple fuckery was added into the mix when the previously-linked annotations were displayed. I cannot understand why they keep this surrepticious experimentation up, and get on with cooperation, instead of harassing me for six years.

Some pictures that the perps allowed, or more like, scripted me to take. The first one of 05-01-2008 is relatively unremarkable; it is the cleaning trolley for this apartment building next to a road sign and was parked down the hallway some 20' away. You will have to believe on this one, but that was the third day it was parked exactly there. In other words, there was no demand for the cleaning trolley for three straight days at month's end. Which affirms my contention that this apartment block is not populated by anyone but me.

Taken 05-02-2008; the cleaning trolley has been removed, but the streetworks temporary marking sign is still in place. Given that these were in regular use for the past 7 months on the streetworks below, it would seem that the perps are bringing these "reference objects" in close and in the hallway in drastically different lighting conditions, proximity to aged concrete (this building, the road base was poured with fresh concrete). This stunt is similar to when they moved autobody parts, a red door with the glass in it, into the hallway opposite my room at the putative rooming house.

This is the dusk onset games that are now occurring each night of late. There is this staged reflection that is intensely bright that "happens" to be directed into my apartment.

A close-up of this reflectance nonsense that is arranged per photo above, and there is nothing natural about the incidence of light on the windows above and below the reflection. It would seem that the windows have some kind of sheen applied to them which is not the case. While this apartment block has the look of residents storing their junk on the balconies, the nightime lighting pattern suggests there are very few residents, if any. The pattern of the residents coming and going isn't normal either, especially the color themes that they are dressed in.

This is what the dusk onset "reflections" look like when beaming into my apartment, taken at 1747h on 05-01-2008 with the window facing E.

And as I typed out the date above I got a rumbling, pounding and scuffling noise from above, as if there was no carpet in the above suite and that the residents could somehow make this noise where there is 12" of concrete between us. Simply amazing the bullshit they indulge in, now some nine apartments since 2002.

This one is done for the day. And while writing that, another huge pounding overhead and a zapping for which I screamed at the assholes, which is likely what they wanted. They actually do shut up for while when they engage in these excesses, this being their last opportunity for the day while seated at my desk. I have the suspicion that the perps have very poor energy correlations between where I am in the apartment; they constantly noisestalk me and otherwise abuse or aggravate me when I step onto the kitchen lino from the carpeted floor. Hence, the wheelchair gangstalking fuckers being in place to provide a seated reference. Not my problem, so why am I involved in any of this fucking outrage? And why is it that I loathe the sight of wheelchairs?

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