Only A Moderate Disrupted Monday

1840h
As regular readers know, I typically spend Sunday night at my perp abetting parent's place and drive in (in their vehicle) in the morning. The difference was that I drove them onto my in-town brother's place for dinner, and then back to their place where I get my once per week dose of TV, replete with parental gangstalking and other strange behaviors. Because I sleep in my old bedroom, where normally my mother sleeps, and for whatever other benefits accrue to my tormentors, Mondays are a big harassment and gangstalk day. And today, they got me out for a 30 min. walk to visit the East Indian doctor, my every-five-weeks check-in about all things clinical (not much) or if he asks, alll things harassment related. The latter was most of the conversation, and I have no problem telling him about various stunts and anomalies that go on. The big story I related to him was last week's curious brush off about availible funds for training those who haven't claimed UIC (unemployment benefits) in the past three years (me) that was directly aligned with my job and skills background, all to find out that the application process wasn't anywhere as forboding as the representative I saw last week made out. It was the odd behavior of others in face of the facts that later came to light, and there isn't any clinical rationale to explain that. Yes, it might have been some kind of jerkaround they routinely do at that office, but I find that this happens all the time. And I am sure that the notion to look up the Equal Opportunities Fund wasn't mine, but planted in mind, and presumably, for me to gnash my teeth about in print (here) and to the doctor and the story was also conveyed to my mother this weekend.

Anyhow, the doctor visit was a 25 minute wait while the parade of fuckwits proceeded, some making no sense, such as a hospital staff member with a hospital staff ID tag on a blue lanyard around his neck sitting in the waiting room. Perhaps they wanted to test me on lanyards and plastics, as both have been routinely independently placed in my proximity as part of the gangstalking show for some years now. (The lanyard would be comparable to seat belts, shoulder straps and like objects draped over one's torso, all often seen in my gangstalked world; Ms. C of the story would put on a screaming fit about wearing a seatbelt anytime we drove together).

There was near nonstop serial motorcycle noise from about 1600h to 1800h preceding a phone call from a recruiter of all people, as it was totally unexpected. We had a 20 minute chat, and the potential job would be in Edmonton, Alberta and would involve Oracle database work that I have experience in, and would be in the role of application support; ensuring that a large application stays operative in all its myriad of screens, reports, hidden scripts, updates and whatever other functions it may embrace. She said she would send an email providing more detail, but I haven't recieved it. And lo, if I didn't "forget" to get her name, phone number and email myself. Funny how that happens all the time, always ending up in FUDworld. (Fear, Unceratinty and Doubt, the IBM credo it is said that they embraced in dealing with their customers).

Once I got back to being online after the phone interuption, it "so happened" that I was looking at a Oracle database job in Edmonton. I couldn't tell if it was the same one or not, but it was awfully close in description. It does make me wonder about so many of these arranged "coincidences" and how much of anything I engage with isn't arranged to every last detail.

And to top off the evening so far, the neighbor stereo noise has erupted, and has continued long after taking the garbage out and hearing it louder in the hallway. I had my three gangstalking dudes in the elevator lobby, one being the Asian in blue who "happened" to be outbound when I returned from the doctor, and now, "happened" to be inbound when exiting the building to take the garbage out as the chute is still "broken". Another of the three dudes was in a same blue hoodie, keeping his face mostly masked, and the other dude allowed me out in faux mannerliness before he came in. The latter dude has been seen before, and I am not allowed to place where I saw him before, something I never forget, and yet my own knowledge is being kept from me. I nearly always have gangstalking action when taking the garbage out via the elevator to the bins outside, as it seems to be a vital component of the ongoing fuckery.

Another partially disruptive measure earlier was shutting down the water supply for the afternoon, apparently for "repairs". Though it seemed more like a reason to have the manager coming around to knock on doors, and in my case, on the heels of making a phone call. The water shutdown became the adopted reason why I had a foreshortened lunch, and ate one of the brown colored energy balls that remained from this summer's farm work. Like I say, so much of this harassment involves colors, and color combinations in all permutations with materials and the lighting conditions. And it includes clothing too, which is likely why two red shirted cyclists ran a red light at a major intersection earlier when I was walking back from the doctor's visit so they could swoop by only 2' behind me as I was crossing the street on the walk signal. And it happened to be the same intersection where the street assault took place last spring. They cannot get enough of me at that location; so why don't they cooperate instead of this fucking senseless experimentation by increments, now running over six years? The short answer to that is the payoff must be so incredibly substantial and remunerative that they are able to readily rationalize this incremental life rape to all shills and quislings, never mind their own crew of operatives that are surely trained in the background of the harassment objectives. Me, I know the least, and suffer the most. And it remains fucking outrageous that anyone would be treated like this, let alone because the assholes seemingly fucked up and created subconscious recollections (Favored and Unfavored rationale) that they are still attempting to elicit with the gangstalk freakshow and presumably to eliminate from my neural make up. As I have asked before; if I don't like the color brown, or the Unfavored, why do I have this army of relentless Fuckwits presenting these to me everywhere in public and at First Feral Family gatherings (see below)?

2210h
Last night's First Feral Family dinner needs some blogging attention. My parents, in-town brother, his sort-of native Indian long time girlfriend and her grandaughter were there, and it was his usual roast beef dinner. I don't think he has cooked anything different in the 20 some times he has invited us. My cynical take is that it is all about the food colors, and communal gangstalking and digestive energetic color reactions thereafter. And sure enough, he did two orange colored vegetables and two yellow colored ones beside the green peas and white potatoes. The little girl was beside me, and the only thing she ate was the meat, more than any adult even, and even more than any two adults put together. She wouldn't touch a vegetable at all.

There were no power outages at dinner this time, as there has been in the past at these First Feral Family dinners, and when it came time for brown colored desserts, some even with red jam in them, why the girl's father came by to pick her up, but was invited to stay after I was first faked out to think that he wasn't as he turned down the first invitation. No big deal, as this happens all the time where it is arranged that I am to be clued out as to what is going on. A place for him was made for at the table next to me, leaving me in between his daughter and him. I had not met the fellow before, but he seemed to be a reasonable enough guy, and the conversation was relatively fluid and interesting. It was only afterward that it occured to me that the seating arrangement seemed odd, having me between family members when it was quite clear that the girl was ever so pleased to see her dad. (The parents are divorced). I suppose it was another of those "in-between" family member gangstalkings, just an extended version for the duration of dessert and for all to eat some variety of brown colored food. For the perps, their confounding "problem" they inflict upon me is separating the influence of brown skin from brown food, and even brown clothes on others. (They trashed all my brown colored clothes at least five years ago). And it would seem that grandmother was full native Indian, and her daughter is partial (having met her a few other times, I would not of known from looking at her), and her grandaughter is even less native Indian as the father is Caucasian. It is all very complicated, but it would seem that the perps were hard on adding more variations to this theme this morning when I exited my parent's vehicle opposite this apartment building.

I was talking to my mother at the vehicle after parking it at a stall opposite this apartment building's lobby, and she was getting in the driver's seat. As it "so happened" at this driver swap juncture, she had a bag full of my father's thick socks she wanted to give to a nearby charity, and asked me to do the honors and I could go through them first. All the while I was standing outside the vehicle, getting this bag of socks, getting my pack, and doing the goodbye thing, there was this weird dude in a greyed face with sunglasses (in total shade) on sitting in the driver's seat of this parked white van with red livery at the opposite curbside. He was shuffling around a bit in his seat, but wasn't making any move to look any less suspicious. After the final goodbyes, a white vehicle passed by, and I was able to safely cross the street, some 12' in front of this van. Once I got to the opposite side, I noticed one of the two side cargo doors of this white van was left open, and yet there was no activity to suggest the van was engaged in moving or delivering. Anyhow, I walked another 20' to the front door, and looked in the reflection behind me, the suspicious dude had reached back and opened the second side cargo door and out popped a native Indian dude with a red paper bag full of frozen prepared food in aluminum containers. The timing of opening the door was such that he caught up to me and followed me through the door and into the lobby, and then into the same elevator. I have never seen this dude before, but I thought the entire scenario was so absurd that I didn't know where to begin. All I can surmise was that this was a brown skinned native Indian male test, and that he and his van driver pal had been sitting there for some time, all to tail me from outside to inside. I believe I am on record in noting that egress in and out of buildings is one of the perps most gangstalked events, and it would seem that they needed some native Indian male exposure to this aspect of their problem. At building doors they have gangstalked me with blonde women (Favored), bread packing females (neutral), negros in red shirts (Unfavored), Asians (Unfavored) all kinds, dwarves (seeningly Unfavored), and many other specimens from their preferred demographic categories of freakish gangstalkers. And as mentioned above, the threesome of males to accompany me exiting the building to later take out the garbage, one was a Caucasian male wearing brown who, to me at least, inexplicably let his blue hoodie pal in ahead of him, and then offered to let me out while holding the door. (I have given up refusing these gestures, no matter how odd they are).

I went through the socks, and found some nice thick ones that I haven't been able to find locally. It was only later events that suggested there might be a method behind this "gift". Might it be an arranged harbinger to live in Edmonton? Stay tuned, it will take its time to play out, though I am extremely doubtful that the perps will let me earn some real money, as they just might not be able to contain me as much as they think.

And for much of this evening the perps have been playing the live-in-Edmonton scenarios in mind, especially relevant when heading into winter, as it is very cold there. But the likely reality is that the recruiter call was another bullshit stunt as she promised to send an email which she didn't. And as mentioned above, I "ended up" unprepared to recover from her seeming oversight. I always reflect on the timing of phone calls as it seems the device can enable the perp's remote energetics detection surveys, all the more so that it occured when reading about a similar, if not the same, job described on a webpage. I had to explain my six year absence from work, and that might of been the "way scarey" part she decided that she didn't want to deal with a bailed out. Though to be fair, I didn't get the sense that this was her reaction as our conversation continued for longer after this revelation. This was the first time I had to explain it over the phone, and the perps made sure I was suitably word impaired to supply an adequate explanation.

And I see this city is making the national news by allowing limited camping in the parks, after a court ruling that the city bylaw of no park camping was deemed to be a violation of the camper's civil rights. So the city decided to make the bylaw time limited, no camping after 0700h to 2100h. As with all things local, I wonder how many of these supposed homeless individuals are really operatives doing their thing, and attempting to obtain more body to earth energetics interactions which is a substantial component of the perps objectives. I have noted past "camp outs" in the local streets and former Volvo car lot of trailers, seeming for filming, when there was no actual filming action. It was the Fuckwits themselves, doing their camping thing in more elegant accomodations. The number of vagrants that circulate around me in any given day is beyond counting, and they have that impeccable sense of timing like all gangstalkers do.

And on a positive note, I see that Rachael O. of On Gangstalking is alive and well, and recovered to some extent after her previous worrisome long posting that had me concerned. There is at least one recent (2.5 years ago) example of one homeless TI getting killed, and so it concerns me when any TI is rendered homeless and in duress.