The Smell of Alcohol All Day Long

2005h
That is, the smell of alcohol as digested by the tippler and its byproducts passed through the skin; the acrid and offensive drunken vagrant smell. And so it was, my "talking chum" at the daffodil bulb farm presented himself as tipsy at 0645h when waiting for the crew bus. He egged me on about telling him my long story of harassment and abuse and how it began, he being a once homeless type and one of society's marginalized, though the specifics are not entirely clear. He does enough hanging around me to be prime candidate to be someone I know, but morphed over with a good story. Still, I am commanded (read, mind fucked) to chat to him and bear this wretched arguement again; "are you sure you didn't have a breakdown", "you don't think all these people are after you do you", "are you not being paranoic about seeing yourself at the center of all this activity (gangstalking and harassment)" etc. This is the predictable line that Ms. C of the story used ad nauseum in the frantic days of 2002, and then the recent Anonymous commenter, aka "tidbunker", (I wonder if they are the same asshole?, hmmm...) and a few others of the long past, all widely discredited. If the uninvited behavior of others has gone widely beserk, say, attempting to get into the elevator without letting me out first, then the answer is that clearly, there is a widespread coordinated orchestration to harass the living shit out of my life and it continues in many forms, including over a hundred fake touches and day, and about that number of crumbs or lint that arrive on my clothes or in my immediate proximity including my breakfast plate. And if at least two thousand individuals from all walks of life experience the same kind of harassment and targetting in much the same way in all its details it cannot possibly be psychosis by definition, as this is like people having the same detailed dream. It just doesn't happen, much like everyone having the same perspective and observations. So yes, it was another day of telling my story to this smelly individual putting on the obdurate entrenchment routine. And the smell from him wafted toward me at various times in the day, as he was only 3' away on the daffodil bulb sorting line and the breeze would start up to bring the odiferous drunk smell to my nostrils, usually in concert with others scuttling about and making extra noise and activity, often behind my back. And it seems, when this smell should be long gone while alone and back at my apartment, the perps are bringing the stale booze smell back at selective moments, and temporarily defeating my alertness faculties so I "don't notice" the sensation in my nostrils. While my "colleague" was decidedly in the sauce today, it was most odd that he worked the entire day and didn't seem the worse for wear for his supposed prior binging. Perhaps the entire scenario was a fictitious event with a whole lot of the perp machinery projecting these smells in my proximity and up my nostrils, much like described by the TI of 200 years ago, James Tilley Matthews in the book (link to the right side) The Air Loom Gang.

As part of talking to this "colleague", I also got at least three fawning compliments as to being "highly intelligent". I had to disabuse him of that, and inform him that I have results from testing in 1998 to indicate that I am merely average (for this city), and that I have profound learning disabilities owing to the wide disparity of my Vebal Intelligence Quotient (high) to my Performance Intelligence Quotient (lower), and this is highly indicative of nonverbal learning disorders. (Also supported by school wide test results in 1960 and 1962 when 6 and 8 respectively). I also got this "highly intelligent" fawning in 2002 from Ms. C from the story when putting on the sweet talk, and a few others have chimed in since then. It is much like the past coordinated laughter of some groups when I am not being terribly funny. Another WTF, and why?

Today was payday, and like last time, the perps were all over me with gangstalkers, and had one "work colleague" on either side of me in the crew bus as I separated the cheque from the attached statement. This seemed to be a big deal, and perhaps it was their deemed moment of recieving monies, as determined by the anal rentive perp assholes who continue to hound me at every financial transaction, be it writing a check and mailing it, purchasing, banking, and it would seem, acceptance of money, even if in the form of a check. My mother gave me a check yesterday, perhaps as a "warmup event" to today.

I see that the "work colleagues" are wearing more loud colored clothes (various orange and yellow colors), and often change them up over the day, reverting to more "safe" colors, light blue being one, navy blue another, apart from the reference grey scale colors of black, white and mid-tone greys, and I put silver-grey in that category too. Then they buzz around me for the first 40 minutes of daffodil bulb sorting on the conveyor, making out that they are checking the feed rate is OK, blah, blah. Two males on this work detail seem to be getting a whole lot of face time, both OK guys, but have that gangstalking "madness" where they do things that make no sense at all, or take pains to loiter in my proximity, often changing their garments when I am close. These guys switched roles over the day, working on the feed side outside the building, to the final conveyor end under cover, where the bulbs are loaded into boxes. They also tried various eyewear from transparent protective goggles to various brown lenses, and dark green lenses, all for no apparent reason Again, I have a strong suspicion that they are morphovers of people I know, but I don't know who. Maybe I will eliminate one suspect tomorrow as my out-of-town brother and sister-in-law are driving her with their daughter, and surely they wouldn't pull any teleportation games in this situation would they? One never knows, and all this could be a set-up to get my suspicions totally wrong, yet another long standing perp aim, right up there with creating as much FUD (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt) as possible. Perhaps I should call this combined practice as FUDE, Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt and Error, or maybe EFUD.

No do-rags at work today, but the Punjabi scarf and turban contingent was very much in evidence, and also doing some strange arrival activities. Normally they take the crew bus, and they get on at the same bus stop, though today, they were absent. But instead, the perps put on a turbaned East Indian at the same pickup bus stop who was not part of the crew, and the bus drove on. Then, when at the marshalling area, the absent turbaned Punjabi males "happened" to be already there, coming forth from the dark corners of the building and converging upon me to pass me by in file, just like so many other gangstalkers. Fucking bizarre, these games of "pop up turbans"; superflous ones at the bus stop, and the regular ones already positioned doing their look up and sideways number while walking toward me. So many of the gangstalkers do the eyes rolled upward act, and I suspect it is to read the instructions from a direct-to-retina text feed, something they did once to me for illustration purposes I assume.

2220h
Time to call this one done, only the above links to insert.