Monday, September 01, 2008

Endless Motorcycle Noise

One after the other, and always when I lift my fingers off my ears to avoid hearing it, the Harley Davidson like (2 cycle engine) motorcycle noise continues in a train, as if there was a bikers' convention nearby, and they were departing after the Labor Day weekend. This is about the least biker city there is, and no biker's bar is within five miles at least. And none in the neighborhood. As always, it is a mystery as to why the perps are inundating me with the noise, the vehicular gangstalkings and the demonstrations of parked motorcycles all my waking hours. Yes, I loathe the noise of 2 cycle motorcycles, and especially if they are chopped to make even more noise, and that might be reason enough for the perps to crank on this noise/object theme. Somehow, I think there is more to it, and the 1950's motorcycle act (motorcycle, leathers and helmet of that era) that passes by me each day while waiting for the crew bus might be a tip off that motorcycles have a long-ago trauma association that still resides in my subconscious recollection. All conscious recall of such events has been purged (if they happened at all), creating the "lost years" of age 3 to 5, when I have better recall of being in Montreal aged 2 to 3. I have no idea where I lived or the arrival of my brother during this time frame, or any place that I lived for these years. Now that I sense my recall was fucked with back then, it is getting to piss me off all the more.

I stayed at my parent's place last night, and continued on there to do gardening duties for the morning. It was the first time in at least three weeks that I have stayed there when it was a regular weekly visitation event since 2003. Nothing much has changed; my father puts on the dementia act extra thick, then loiters some 15' away in the doorway, partially obstructed by the doorframe and the intervening wall, as seen from the living room into the dining room. The perps even arranged a desk lamp to be placed in between us to further limit how much of this loathesome asshole I am able to see by looking in his direction. And they even darkened down the dining room where he does this gangstalking walk/posing, presumably to lower the loathing level because I cannot see him distinctly. Fortuneately they didn't have him do this bullshit all evening, as I would of closed the door and that would of created a new dynamic. I also noticed he was doing his behind-the-door-jamb loitering from the other doorway into the living room where I was seated. And the perps also had a side casting table lamp behind him, casting his shadow into the living room and into my peripherial vision before he was directly visible. And when he incrementally advanced to be in my vision, why, a interlaced white colored plasma array erupted for a few seconds to render him into horizontally bandeds segments, even smaller pieces of loathing than the dining room posing mentioned above. These "horizontal banding plasma arrays" are about 2' to 3' high, 1.5' to 2' wide, and are invariably placed immediately in front of the subject that I am viewing. These have been arranged in other circumstances, and it maybe that this method of visual image reductionism is used where the perps have a particular difficulty in sorting out what I see from the entire meaning and emotional valence that I attatch to what is being masked in this bizarre manner. Not my problem; if I loathe all parties that had anything to do with past traumatizations, then why do I have a phalanx of fuckwits engaging in elaborate games to make these assholes only partially visible? And there are plenty of highly abusive events that I am allowed to recall about my father, and he likely represents the most difficult case to remediate, assuming that is what the perps are obsessed about.

Rachael O. of On Gangstalking laid out the emotional terrain for TI's (here) [not sure if I got the best link on this] who have been abused and currently decieved and harassed by family members. And I concurr; all family member quislings that have contributed to, and still continue to engage in this depraved harassment activity are fucking sick minded assholes. That is as blunt as it gets, and needs to be said every so often. And no "family counselling" comments are desired, if the comment section were to be opened up someday.

The Anonymous commenter, aka "tidbunker" has yet to reply to my last email, and I don't know if he is gone for good, or lying in wait to further engage in more spurious dialog. I am giving it some fallow time to see if this is a flurry or an ongoing campaign. Hard to take it seriously with that kind of email handle, something revealed in later correspondence, and to which I am waiting a reply to my question; how can I take this person seriously with an email handle that bluntly discredits his seeming curiousity. Enough on that subject too, as it another tiresome one.

Back to improbable stories. I took the bus to my parent's place yesterday, and for the 1709h #27 bus on a Sunday long weekend, it was nearly full, save the "Asian section" where there was one transverse seat availible. At least 8 were ringed around me and one beside me, along with the usual arm waving and stretching that signifies a perp script in progress. Such actions are universal among the shills and operatives, and are not exclusively those of Asians. A few blonde Caucasian women were seated outside the Asian gangstalker cluster.

Before I caught the bus I was gangstalking bait while waiting at the bus stop, an activity I usually limit as much as possible, but am often suckered into because the bus arrives late. Anyhow, I was watching the gangstalking show pass by, both vvehicular and ambulatory and lo, if one of the farm workers didn't "happen" to walk by, and I asked him why he wasn't there any more. As it "so happened", he and another stranger gangstalking dude, both of longer term experience than us "daffodil bulb people", were fired at the same time because they screwed up the operation of running the $20k sprinkler system one day. One screwed it up and it was deemed that the other was watching and "should of known". I don't put too much stock into these stories as it is often a way to write these folks out of the script, either to greater gifted glory if a shill, or onto another role if a trained operative. We hadn't finished the chat when the bus came, and I explained the predicament to the fellow, and lo, if he doesn't get on the bus after me, but doesn't sit nearby to continue the conversation, as a seat was close. He stands in that routine gangstalker sentry post, at the backdoor, waves to me to acknowledge that I saw him, and then gets off after two stops. Fucking bizarre; he had no need to take the bus as he "happened" to walk by while I was at the bus stop, but follows me onboard and then stands in the sentry location for some 3 minutes, and then gets off. Two bizarrre behaviors from one event. Someone explain that to me in conventional non-gangstalking involvement terms, especially you, "tidbunker".

An earlier outing to the LD store to get my Rx picked up; another skunk over finding no Neutrogena Deep Clean, though with some more imposters/like products. What exactly the perps get for planting the notion for me to resupply Neutrogena and then skunking me twice in two days is I don't know. Once they changed the plastic tube to be a dull nonglossy plastic once, and then reverted to the normal glossy plastic again, the graphics of the packaging staying identical.

I tossed out the garbage today, taking it down in the elevator as the garbage chute is "broken". And lo, if the perps didn't arrange for the dumpster to be overflowing on this Labor Day, and garbage strewn some 30' away with all manner of spillings, litterings, and other dispersal methods. No need to dumpster dive, just take it from the top, which is where my garbage ended up, also some 3' below the concrete overhanging ceiling of the parking lot. This area is also attracting the homeless (read, operatives doing funky things in the guise of vagrants), and it smelled like a pissoir, more than last time.

I had my on-street gangstalker dude show at the pedestrain intersection traffic light; males arranged in clusters, some appearing as if they don't know each other but are walking nearly side by side. Talk about silly, two dudes pretending the other isn't there as they walk along, one giving me the stare for no reason, and getting closer than is socially accepted in passing by. Then other shiftless males loitered about at each store location I needed to visit, and even a wheelchair act was at the Rx counter, and then managed to reprise themselves again when I exited the store, getting ahead of me and holding up my usual brisk walking pace.

Other wierds of that 15 minute round trip were a very black negro doing some kind of self-chatter as he shambled down the stairs ahead of me ascending, another one (female) in the cosmetic section putting on the stalking, and again another behind the pharmacy counter. That is a high count for this town for such a short trip. As always, skin tone is a vital part of the Unfavored demographic group, and I am never too surprised by what comes at me, save the recent dwarf who they "placed" (read, appears to be a tenant) on this floor. I didn't see that one coming, and I don't know where they fit in the freakshow as far as any possible past traumatizations go. What I do know is that the perps constantly have their gangstalkers moving up or down stairs in my proximity, bending over and popping back up, and all manner of feints to vary their relative head height to me. So..., it is not much of a stretch in perp harassment terms to have an adult that is substantially shorter than me. I do get many dudes taller than me loitering in my proximity, and even fat ones, but no 7' ones so far. Usually 6'6" is about the tallest gangstalker they plant around me. And it would be no surprise to be proven wrong this week.

Other freaks in the LD store were an armful of tattoos on a red T-shirted dude; I went to a longer checkout line to avoid having that freakish display in my face, something the perps would salivate over. They have taken to packing more freaks around me of late, close in, and the elevator seems to be the current fave for "freakshow clustering". The perps also planted the "need" to acquire more Lindt Creamy 100g. chocolate, as it was $2.50 per 100g., over a dollar off, and lo, if they didn't deplete all of it from yesterday, making the LD visitation to be a two skunk event. This tiresome fuckery of creating shortages for me to "discover" after being planted with the notion to purchase the item is still going strong after six years. Never mind all the covertly planned events for the prior 47 years.

Another oddity was having the two checkout cashiers I visited to be extra friendly and smiling; first a redhead (Unfavored) at the Rx counter, and then a homely blonde with pigtails, (neither Favored or Unfavored as far as I can tell), at the regular checkout. It was all a bit disconcerting while being cast into a grumpy mood.

Other recent planted "needs" are to have me piss away more money on my computer, all of it needlessly, as it works fine, and all components are less than two years old. Yesterday they had me drooling over video cards online, something they have done off and on for over three years, and then a round over new larger widescreen LCD displays, two at once even, and so it went, all the way to a Nikon scanner for $2k. These coveting games have long been a perp planted notions, pissing money plans before I have earned it. I might just get out of the red for the first time in two years with tomorrow's paycheck, which still doesn't get me new eyeglasses, as I am at least 8 years behind on getting a new prescription and need to see close up, which I cannot do unless I remove them. It goes without saying that the perps noisestalk me constantly when I remove my glasses to read the newspaper and other small print, and what I am seeing through, (e.g. eyeglasses, windows, transparent plastics, etc.) seems to be of profound importance to the assholes. Even the difference between safety glass (glass with an adhesive plastic between two laminations), pyrex glass and plain plate glass are of intense interest. I don't really care what I am looking at or through, as long as I can see properly, and even that isn't always allowed with the extra faux reflections and visual fuckery that goes on in near constant mode.

Anyhow, I am going to call this one done for the day, and blog off.

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