Twin Turbans

1915h
A day of toil in the soil for daffodil bulb picking; not that I was free from harassment with plenty of the bulbs ejecting from my hands with no conventionally understood force application. This being a Saturday is when the Punjabi employees take a break, but not today. They put on the usual crowd, yellow turban and then a black turban. Then they put on a new Punjabi that didn't appear to say anything, one that somehow knew to give me the stare for the first time when I passed by. He was a black turbaned Punjabi with a big grey beard with blue eyes, and I have no idea if it was the real deal, or a morphover of some quisling/operative asshole. It is unusual that a new Punjabi was hired, so perhaps this is just a "for me" act all in an attempt to swamp me with the most acceptable turban color, that being black. Both were sitting in front of me in the next seat on the minibus, and I am sure it is another round of the perps attempting to figure out the bioenergetics as to why I hate the sight of turbans and most headwear. Not my problem, so why am I relentlessly hounded over my dislikes, and did another party have any role in creating these subconscious recollections they are attempting to emulate?

And speaking of intractable ventures, I see that my nemesis Anonymous is back making comments, now blocked again. My very first flaming reader, one who knows my name and won't send me an email to debate his ongoing tirade. At least I have one more reader than the Google Analytics pulled up, something I want to get off my PC as the perps use it to plant pop-up boxes in my face whenever at critical moments.

I was working the back end of a field for most of the day, and after the afternoon break, and being out of sight from the road, I took off my shirt in an attempt to get a start on a tan. That drew one of the more persistent gangstalking "coworkers" to arrive, and thankfully only her. Anyhow, the "tanning session" only lasted 20 minutes until the sun was obscured by cloud, and I called it quits and put my shirt back on. Then I moved to a new row to begin digging for more bulbs. About then the box delivery truck arrived, two more guys joined in to help them unload them, and then at least three more "coworkers" arrived. It would seem that the perps in their prevention of me tanning, in the sun or in a booth, need to understand something about me and sun exposure (on white skin) and allowed a rare 20 minute tanning session to be the focus of a gangstalking convergence. Like I have mentioned, they seem not to be able to pick up vitamin D generation.

The perps have stopped me from visiting tanning booths/beds in the past by shutting down the business just before my arrival. Another method was to nail me with pulsing pains to the head while in the tanning booth. I found tanning booths/beds to be invaluable to get a tan started so I don't look so incredibly white skinned. No doubt this was under perp auspices, and here we are again, over five years later and 20 minutes of outside sun exposure makes for the day's major gangstalking event in the back end of a daffodil bulb field.

In the high harassment madness of the perps in 2002, they even had some kind of optical fibers poking out from the pot lamp in the ceiling of the tanning booth. I found them, and took them out and put them in an envelope in my briefcase. I had planned to examine them later, but lo, if the envelope and its contents had just plain vanished from my briefcase, which I made sure not to leave unattended. This wasn't the only item to be removed from my briefcase; a paper on ADD went missing, and in another event, my copy of the CT scan went missing. Most long term TI's have many similar stories where items go missing "by themselves", or conversely in my case, 50 to 250 teleported crumbs that "arrive" on my dinner plate for all three meals per day. Currently, I have boxes of clothes that have are missing from my locker, and some of the contents have "somehow" arrived back in my apartment. There have also been transferences, where the matress was stored at my brother's place and then "somehow" ended up at my parent's place. When I asked my brother as to how it happened, he didn't really have a convincing answer.

1950h
And while picking daffodil bulbs I noted my perp pals were up to old tricks; burning PVC plastic and managing the toxic fumes to be inhaled by me. When I lived in Nelson BC, a neighbor would do this every Saturday, right in the one of most ecologically aware areas of all of BC. Then my new neighbor did this in Victoria, about two years later,- a total illegality as burning substances are highly controlled in city bylaws. (Burning PVC's will create dioxins, a very toxic and persistent carcinogen). Today while picking bulbs, lo, if a farm neighbor didn't burn some plastics for me to yet again inhale as part of the perp's bizarre quest to find out how and why my bioenergetics is altered by trace level plastic residues that most of us have some measure of. Even polar bears have PFOA levels from teflon production. This from the gang who fucked up and allowed me to ingest them in the first place, the sick assholes. Don't ask me how ingesting yet more plastic pollutants aids the perp's cause, but they have been relatively consistent about this harassment method.

If my conspiratorial notions are accurate, the perps have their hand in all major technical advancements, and yet allowed these pollutants to be widespread over the globe. The perps tell me that the plastics have different energetic properties at the quantum level than at the cellular level, and this is the reason they innundate me with the "plastic bag people" (shoppers with plastic bags), PVC packing irrigation services trucks, have the faux vagrants tote their plastic bags in my path, and loads of other gangstalking feints all to test me out as to my reaction to these various plastics. Not my problem, so why am I being constantly hounded over it?

There won't ever be an answer to that, as I am the last to know, and the fuckers won't let me in on that.

2240h
A nightime shopping that had at least 200 assorted gangstalkers in action. Details might follow, or might be wiped from recall, though nothing too outrageous to report. Time to call this one done; early mornings for the next while.