Raking Leaves Again

2200h
Another late start to describe today's gangstalking nuances and stunts. I raked leaves for five hours at my in-town brother's place, and had to deal with his perp abetting games, though nothing too malevolent; just the "lost my cellphone" as an excuse to stop and ransack the immediate locations in the vehicle, and then more "forgot this", "forgot that" as excuses to hop into the van and then back out again, then repeat. Straight out of the First Feral Family script book, just like the fossils (parents). And then when getting back from a city bus freak show, why, the power was out in this apartment building and a few others, but none of the businesses I walked past. It was a 1630h bus trip, and that spells dusk onset at this time of year, and that means extra perp fuckery. This time it was putting on two negros near me on gangstalker duty, the first white hoodie wearing one was at the bus stop ready for me when my brother dropped me off. The next negro got on two stops later in a yellow, black and white camo style hoodie and sat opposite me. It might have been the first white hoodie negro was a reference for the multicolored clothed one that sat closer. It is rare to see negros here, and it always amazes me how they manage to "show up", never mind the more complex but obvious games that unfolded on the daffodil bulb picking crew this past summer.

The power outage was for about an hour and a half, and I noticed that the perps arranged some near constant traffic congestion on the two E. bound streets that are in view. Translated, that means many slow moving lines of red tail lighted vehicles, and as one was a two-way street, the white headlights slowly coming the opposite way, W. bound, toward me. I laid down afterward, and nearly got to nap when the lights came on with the fridge compressor starting up too. It could be that the perps are very interested in me today because I was wearing leather gloves while leaf raking with red fluffy cotton liners inside them. I noticed the city bus that I was on had four deep metallic red vehicles in file beside it in the adjacent traffic lane, and I suppose this could of been part of the "red testing" they so predictibly and assiduously practice.

And I did get some red plasma flashes today while raking leaves and not just red colored leaves. And too, the perps had a red plasma flash come off the driver side door of my brother's van while waiting him to complete the "forgot something" act. The dusk onset games predictibly include red color testing, perhaps called "red baiting", though that has political tones that don't apply; this is about abuse, writ large. And during the power outage I got white flashes from the opposite residental tower that was also without power. How someone could aim a flashlight (har, har) with such precision, brightness and same flash interval is beyond me, but it did happen.

My brother picked me up immediately outside the supermarket that I frequent; he has taken to doing his grocery shopping when on this pickup beat, one reason being to purchase chocolate that we later share at lunch. Call it "brown color calibration between siblings" for the greater glory of the perp quest to understand at the deep neural level as to why I don't like brown colors, especially in some circumstances. I don't, and nor do I see why it is anyone's business but my own, and yet it has become a near world event with all manner of fuckwits chasing me down by wearing or otherwise presenting these colors. Yesterday, there were three individuals spaced some 30' apart, all walking toward me, and all wearing the same color of brown. Two of them were dudes doing the head spins/look away (at nothing) act, and lastmost was a blonde woman. All were wearing shades for some absurd reason as it isn't very bright out these days at this latitude.

And speaking of dudes; the meandering route that my brother took to get to his place today, more circuituitous than his usual long route even, was populated by these dudes doing various stunts, or even doing the street debate act. At least 20 of them for a 10 minute city trip, all presenting themselves in some kind of situation where they might belong, and others doing a basic gangstalk sentry job. I have never seen so many dudes without an apparent day job since the harassment began in 2002. It is fucking nuts that so many shiftless males appear to have nothing to do on weekdays.

When I departed from my apartment this morning to get to my brother's van an elevator arrive that was full of belongings as if packed for a move, but no accompanying personnel. There were plenty of brown colored objects like cardboard boxes, plus deep brown painted shelves, and one large powder blue unholstered chair that I had to squeeze by. And lo, if there wasn't a big emphasis on same colored blue vehicles on my way out the door, and I also had a male black leather jacketed fuckwit to tail me to the dumpster on my way out. But the curious thing was that there was no moving act outside as the source or the destination of this elevator full of belongings. Yessir, no cover story for a elevator of belongings that arrives by itself as the only availible elevator. Said elevator was broken yesterday, and working today, the two elevators alternate as to which one works on any given day.


And I see that Sarah Kershaw did a hack job on TI's in the New York Times. I was one of those that she interviewed, and at the time I thought it was odd that she was so incurious when I recounted the intense fuckover days of 2002 into 2003. Then I see that she missed the most fundamental part of what I conveyed to her; my physican recanting his entire clinical determinations of the preceding two years (2002 to early 2004), and said I was "being persecuted". And lo, if Sarah Kershaw "forgot" to mention the latter part of that tale. I will have to remind her with a letter to the editor or some such. I thought there was something going on with the way she asked some questions, as she was interested in how much time I spent online with my TI colleagues in online forums/sites. Other questions came from a clinical perspective, and yet I supplied enough information to her that debunked that notion, and she never gave up going back to clinical questions. One of the alternate energy theorists, Tom Bearden, calls this "gaming" when someone wants to hear one recount the story, or theory, and then sit there incuriously almost, and never show their faces again, leaving one to wonder what it was all about and what was the true purpose.

I will have to roast Sarah Kershaw's ass for this one, as it was a bigger hack job than the middling Sharon Weinberger story of the Washington Post much earlier in 2008. And all the time I was wondering, will the New York Times really delve into the TI life trashing story, as the newspaper is so "conservative"/hidebound by precedent. I "thought" (read, planted notion) that the story was going to get spiked, but no, it went one worse, she got it all wrong and didn't ask the fundamental question; how could so many people have the same delusion in all its details? The answer is that they cannot; disparate individuals having the same strange experiences means that it is not psychosis by definition. I told her that, and I gave her some examples, and she blew that one off too. I also told her that the preponderance of photographic evidence on my site, and others, should dispell any suggestion that this harassment is nothing but coordinated persecution. She didn't get that part right either. So there: I have staked my claim as to my involvement, and vow to at least get this refutation of her piece written up as a letter to the editor tomorrow. Another part of this that pisses me off is my mind-keepers not allowing me to ask her some questions at to where she was coming from, and what was the true nature of her inquiry. Funny how this "accepting guilessness" erupts on me.