Monday, August 11, 2008

Never a Day Off

This being Monday is the day I would normally awaken at my parent's place, have breakfast there, possibly do some needed chores, and then drive or take the bus into town, getting here at noontime. The rest of the day was typically a shut-in, as that seem to be needed for whatever perp reason.

Last night, I was rendered into a dociled and exhausted mindstate, and therefore "decided" that I needed a day off today from the travails of sorting daffodil bulbs on the noisy conveyor belt and having to defend my personal space from encroachment by planted assholes whose job was to invoke this scenario. So a "day off", and one at my place unlike last Thursday where I was buzzing about getting a backlog of errands done. And of course, being dispatched twice to get my boots repaired, as the two locations I went to were closed or shut down for good.

So much for that, as the perps had big plans for me, and I was tipped off by the planted rage shows at breakfast; they flew hemp seeds out of my mouth onto the stove, having just finished eating my cereal with them. Then enraged me with excessive noise and extra-conventional gravitic fuckery in permitting me to have a sufficient quantity of jam on the knife to apply to my peanut butter and jam toast. This stunt at this juncture occurs about 90% of the time each morning, while placing a red substance over a brown substance. It is just too much like fun for the perma-juvies of six years of this harassment, and whom frrequently similarly arrange the gangstalking vehicles, red ones in front of browns, etc.

The third course for breakfast is 100g of chocolate, and this time the harassment orchestrator decided that I needed some of the chocolate my my coffee mug, and duly pulled some from off my lips and into the mug, floating on top. Then they fucked with me in attempting to retrieve it with a spoon, and it took at least four tries to remove it, and enraging me as well. Then the assholes decided that it was too much fun, and did it again, placing a second blob in my coffee, though teleporting it there directly, rather than lifting it from my lips. Again, I was foiled in removing it, and more attempts and more rage shows. All this rage-ification was just a warm up for events to follow, as they had further plans, a common enough situation.

Those plans included them scripting me to have a shit after showering and shaving, but before dental hygiene. And it was no ordinary shit, as they had to have the toilet get plugged and then overflow, along with plunging. It was yet another water (or shitwater more like) spill onto the bathroom floor, likely the fifth in year. The drill is to remove objects off the floor, through down towels and then mop it up, throwing the towels into the laundry bin. Then a shower to clean up, and back to completing my dental hygeine. Once done I laundered the towels. While the clothes were in the washing machine I needed to toss out the garbage, and lo, the garbage room was locked, and neither key could open it. Same deal on the fifth floor. And so, my garbage was left at the door of the garbage room in the hallway, thereby gaining some hallway, and hallway carpet interaction with the garbage, an big deal for the small minds that impose this fuckery on me.

Every visitation to the kitchen today has been fraught with fuckery; fake noises, fake touches, and extra-conventional gravitic harassment in having things fall over, spill or otherwise move on me when I wanted them to be still.

It seems that I have been given my first cold since 2001, the last year I had one, and no doubt managed then as now. This will entail an evening time visit to the LD store, the second visit today. I had already been out on a two stop shopping event, and that came with the usual gangstalkers swarming around me. No doubt they needed to capitalize on their toilet blocking games from this morning. (The floor was later cleaned). I am definitly getting the toxic waste treatment from the store cashiers today, and even on the street if one should "happen" to pass by. This variable friendliness isn't anything new, and it seems that most repeating gangstalkers who I might have been known to be friendly suddenly go cold for a while, and then come back out of it after a few more encounters.

Another interesting post by Rachael O., who in my opinion is one of the few TI's to understand (or state) that there is a huge psi energy/metaphysical research agenda behind this harassment. I reckon the perps expend about 2/3's of their efforts on this, and the last third on mind control and my color sensitivity and related subconscious recall of traumatization associations. Just my opinion. And if I was permitted to be able to understand The Dimensional Structures of Consciousness, by Samuel Avery, link at the right under "TI and Harassment Books of Interest", then it would make more sense to me. As it is, the perps devote considerable effort in controlling what I learn, and not learn, and this book is forbidden for me to understand. They lay on the cognitive sabotage anytime they want. If you want my "out there" prognostication as to the perps' final objectives, it is the control of all consciousness, human and animal. And if you believe that inanimate objects have consciousness, then that too. Which is why they will expend some 6 years of harassing me to hell and back rather than fess up and conduct their research cooperatively over a few months.

More pictures, this time the usual suspects; taken 07-24-2008 at 1849h 53sec. from my balcony. More arranged vehicle colors, mostly the reference colors of white, silver-grey, grey and black. The parked vehicles in the facing street are silver-grey, silver-grey behind the tree and white being overtaken by the bus in the typical livery, save the purple advertisements, of BC Transit. Or should I say was, as I notice some buses have been recently given more white color, and only two narrow 2" horizontal bands of green and blue. And a yellow taxi behind the tree as well, "backed" by the parked silver-grey vehicle parked on the street, also behind the tree.

Taken 07-24-2008 at 1850h 00sec. The full improbable line of parked vehicles is four long, three silver grey vehicles and a black one passing by behind the tree and a white vehicle behind it, also passing by. The "secret agent" walking along the sidewalk was caught by the camera doing that ridiculous exaggerated arm swing they nearly all do.

Taken 07-24-2008 at 1850h 09sec. More orchestration of parked vehicles, this time on the orthogonal street, leading from the lower left. The above white vehicle has made the corner, and will be passing by a white, then mid-grey, then white, then navy blue and a final silver-grey vehicle on the right side of the street. On the left side of the street are a red, green, silver-grey, dull nonreflective primer coat mid-grey and a navy blue vehicle. Have I mentioned that this symmetry of parked and mobile vehicle colors before? Many times, and all the more improbable this could be anything but orchestrated.

I have fixed up the Answers to Anonymous posting a little more, "tuning it up" for the benefit of Anonymous' unpublished comments. As usual, like all the other players, Anonymous did not address anything of a specific nature, nor was there any substantive reasoned rebuttals. This orchestrated passive/aggressive (aka friendly/unfriendly) act is central to the TI experience for whatever reason. My ex would pull it often, and even some supposed friends of the long past would jerk me around over some trivial event.

I went to the LD store to get some echinacea for this head cold I have been saddled with, and I had another interesting experience. I was in line at the checkout when another cashier came behind me and tapped on my shoulder to let me know she was opening up another checkout. I nearly jumped out of my skin, getting this unexpected touch sensation. This would suggest the perps either planted that sensation, or have stripped away all my history of response training down to a level of long ago when such sensations were indeed threatening and associated with traumatization. I am begining to side with the latter notion as there has been a huge amount of orchestration consistency around the putative traumatization themes. As mentioned in past blogs, personal space encroachment has been of experimental interest of late, and am loathe to think what the assholes have me lined up under that theme next.

I swear that the name Georgia got more than one mention than this posting; but it was the only one that came up on a search of my blog postings. And I see that the news in the country of Georgia is not good, being invaded by the Russian army all the while being a near NATO state. There is a Strait of Georgia in this region, and a news item about renaming it for whatever reason. And there is a woman by this same name in my yoga class, and she was arranged to arrive through the doors the instant I uttered her name to someone else who was posed a question about her to me. I don't know what the deal is, but there is a decided perp fixation on this name.

I am going to call this a day, and post this for real, and not the forced posting to save this copy like a few hours ago.

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