Friday, December 26, 2008

Dreaming of a Plasmic Christmas

Another 10.5 hour sleep like yesterday, and some extra vivid dreams in an academic environment for the last run before waking. The meat aerial games are still continuing, through dreams and likely earlier in the night while in deeper sleep.

The perps have created another dingey apartment by some kind of ambient light manipulations as well as adding some kind of plasmic hash everywhere I look, this speckled appearance to everything, and most evident in the darker areas.

It was another First Feral Family Christmas dinner yesterday, and I get to reprise it again tonight with my ex and daughter added on as part of family gangstalking. I got some gifts even, though only the chocolate was of any use, the rest of it, e.g. four glass tumblers for chrissakes, is headed to the charity when they open up. And they would all know exactly what I needed per the mindfuck intermediaries/scriptors, but instead, it was a "gift toss-out" Christmas.

Though to be fair, my mother did give me a big check, but only half the price of the cost of the recent eyelasses that she promised to subsidize in full. Another case of "fuck and suck"; make the promise, incur expense (mine), and then only deliver a small portion of the promised subsidy. Been there, done that, and so I start the New Year running a tab on Mastercard for the first time in three years. Oh lucky me. That might mean getting a springtime job picking flowers on the farm in the driving rain and fighting off the thieves who increase their piecemeal rates while busy flower picking. It seems that there is enough financial adversity without going through this exercise and I hope it doesn't come to that. But I am sure the perps want me to make another geographic visitation, given that it is a big deal for the assholes to have me return to past sites, even decades later.

The Feral Family shenanigans that were scripted last night was some new, some old. My father did his Alzheimer's act again by wandering around with his navy blue coat on in the house and doing his posing in the doorframe between the living room and the dining room. He is constantly doing this, so consistent that it is either controlled of not the dementia at all. I got up and closed the door twice last night to end this visually at least. Then in another wandering from the dinner table he returned with blood stains on his pants and that was seen and then incurred another absence from both my parents to clean up this mess. I reckon this red fluid excess was in lieu of the near-tradition of red wine spilling which did not happen in a rare instance of perp charity. Then two hours later, my mother gave me the check for Christmas, and lo if she didn't have a bloodied white napkin in her other hand for some strange reason, and didn't explain much about it when I mentioned it. Regular readers will know that I am constantly besieged with harassment at the moment of financial transactions, be it by way of ATM, online purchases, checkout purchases, writing and mailing checks, in cash or other forms. So it would seem that the perps "needed" a blood sample at the time of financial transaction (giving me a check), and what could be better than an accompanying blood sample from a family member at that same instant, all wrapped up into a bullshit dementia act. It is fucking pathetic, be it an act or not, and my father blows his cover the odd time I have mentioned this to him.

I did read recently that one's blood has magnetic properties, and that since the perps contain me in a densified magnetic field (measured at over 200 gauss in 12-2002), it isn't a surprise that they are consumed with it, and also with the color red. And so it came to pass on Christmas Day that my E. Indian sister-in-law, a very nice person with whom I get along with (more than my two brothers combined), changed from her black top and black and grey with red fleck skirt to a bold red color top and deep navy bluejeans for the last 1.5 hours while visiting. More red color sampling says me, and as this is written I am getting the well-known poor whistling in the hallway. More like air surging than whistling, and is likely augmented if coming from a real person rather than being totally faked. And I do get this strange bullshit whistling act when at checkouts.

That I find the bullshit whistling so annoying must relate to the fact that the perps make me over reactive to this blatant fuckery, as it never bothered me before, but its public frequency has increased by at least an order of magnitude from the pre-overt harassment days until 04-2002.

I had the same Feral Family crush around me as the day before when about to depart from the parent's place last night, with my mother scooting away upstairs instead. The day before yesterday she had immediately sat down in my former location on the couch, claiming the spot within a half minute when she was already seated. My out-of-town brother did his get-too-close act again while I was putting on my coat, but thankfully the perps didn't make me run to the next room to "avoid" it like the day before. And as part of his social distance incursion, he had his mouth hanging open and was looking 90 degrees offset, pretending there was something compelling about the closet door jamb. Regular readers will know that "open mouthing", personal space encroachment and clustering around me are all long standing public gangstalking methods, and so it isn't very different with the First Feral Family, even on Christmas Day. What should I call Festive Fuck Day, Merry Gangstalking, Feral Fuckover Day or perhaps just plain Sick Asshole Day, aka SAD? The Feral Family Quisling sociopathic clusterfuck perhaps?

The perps fucked another Christmas Day stunt out of mind and only let me remember just now. The faucet on the kitchen sink broke and that entailed one brother lying on the cupboard bottom surface while attempting to repair it with his tools that he had brought down. And the rest of us cleaned up and even threw out the accumlated and never used cleaners and objects as part of the stunt. I learned via phone call that none of the dishes were done until mid-morning when a new faucet was acquired and installed by my out-of-town brother who is staying there. And have I mentioned how often the perps harass and jerk me around while doing the dishes? Not lately perhaps, but it is a high noisestalked event, and they must of had a great time doing their remote energy reading games for all the dirty dishes of the First Feral Family having a meal together. Regular readers will know that I have suffered past plumbing "problems" with the drain water from the kitchen sink, and so it would seem that this episode was another stunt for all of us to be "involved" in. And too, that the perps had my brother lying down on the ground for 40 minutes or so attending to the sink might also be an emulation of the (now) often vagrants who are lying down on the street as I pass by. And also, the transition from vertical to horizontal or vice versa is a highly noisetalked event, suggesting the perps are plumbing for more deep neural energetics detection.

Army Orders Pain Ray Trucks; a news trinket I found online recently. Been there, done that, having a pain beam directed at me wherever I was and only protected by proximity to metal objects. Could this be a large scale application of the same harassment/torture? Who knows, but I do wonder why they are "outing" themselves on this, except perhaps to bring it to some kind of congnitive awareness that will then allow the perps to delete any knowledge of such a device, even if directly experienced and witnessed. Not unlike "forgetting" the litany of lies that spew from my mother, the latest detailed above.

And if true, then it is evident that the police state is here sooner rather than later; an Ohio food cooperative gets raided by a military SWAT team for some hours for no genuine reason except to disrupt and fuck with them. I suggest a darker motive, and that is to allow a perp compliant group to tear the place apart while the real perps measure the energetics of the goings on from a remote location, knowing that a food cooperative splits the same food order among all its members, and theoretically, should all have similar digestive energetics separately. If I were in that food cooperative, I would review my recent past and look for any telltale signs of remote harassment, strange goings on, associates going weird and a host of other "bad luck" that fits the perp's agenda. It is a black day indeed that a food cooperative gets military attention for doing utterly nothing illegal, and hopefully this will get the military shut out of civilian activities unless invited by the state governor. That won't happen, because it is continuing on another front, "aiding" the civilian police "observing" drunk driving checks.

California: U.S. Marines to Staff Vehicle Checkpoint Along with Law Enforcement Agencies. Right here, and brazenly pimping themselves on the street under the guise of "assistance". I do wonder what the perps get out of this, except as some kind of precursor event to ready us for a more common occurence and then to be able to mindfuck the populace into "accepting" this as OK. Us TI's get a ringside seat to the perp's interests and possible intents, and of course never have the credibility to warn anyone, assuming those who we warn aren't also mindfucked in accepting state transgression of civil liberties. The Patriot Act runs over 500 pages and was brought into Congress withing three weeks of 9/11, or so I believe. I don't think any patriot could be so well prepared. The real mettle of Obama is if he will rescind the Patriot Act in its entirety, but I am not optomistic, despite his "change" mandate he expresses.

Now that the streets are largely clear of snow, the excuse of less outside vehicle traffic noise has diminished. As part of that, there is a sudden profusion of loud mufflered vehicles today; hotrods, badly maintained mufflers and "performance" mufflers. I predict within a day, the Harley motorcycle noises will also ramp up and it will be the imposed normal again. The final silliness is the Vespa noise, that high pitched scooter tha sounds like a buzzing insect.

My Blogger commands are still being messed with and the button to add pictures is bing obstructed while adding videos, which I don't have, isn't.

Wall Street’s Night Before Christmas; a Christmas tale of our times it would seem. These are some links that I had saved and am unloading, though as always, I have the readership in mind and hope it serves as some king of rare humor for any TI's that read this journal. Having one's life invaded and fucked with at every instant of the day, including sleep, tends to end the notion of humor if of organic reaction and not a planted "reaction" that is true in my case.

No comments: