Sunday, December 14, 2008

Snow Time

The street hollaring has started early, and it was going on last night as the snow fell, 12" at most. These non-verbal voice expressions seem to be a big part of the ongoing fuckery. The little I know is that voice is processed in the amygdala part of the brain, which is deep inside of the temporal lobes, and connected to the brainstem, the most primitive brain region. Hence, the notion that this is still being researched from remote locations by my tormentors, the ones that enrage me much of the day with extra-conventional gravitic fuckery like pulling objects from my grasp, flicking food around the stove, flicking water around the kitchen, bathroom and toilet, jabbing me with a unseen force field in the inner arms, feet, nipples, fingertips, lips all highly sensitive nerve connection locations, and of course all the online and PC sabotage that passes for the imposed "normal". Last night they fucked my online transaction to spend my way out of these infernal horizontal scrolling web displays that have been increasing of late, fucking the transaction to get a 22" LCD monitor for $200. No doubt they will be all over me when I attempt this again, likely in daylit conditions.

Another jerkaround of increasing frequency of late is timing urges to pee at the very moments that they formerly only noisestalked; finishing above paragraph of blog entry, after Windows select, copy and paste functions, after phone calls, after web page changes, and now today, exactly after specific kitchen activities like pouring cereal in a bowl, pouring milk out in a bowl (today, perhaps in alignment with the white snow), after making coffee but before pouring it and so on. Every facet of every task is deemed of vital import to the sick assholes who have made their invasive presence known both in re-directing the entire physicality of my world and every thought and action.

Another imposed jerkaround that erupted last night, and is continuing today, is impairing the actions of the PC mouse pointer; vertical moves work fine, and right horizontal movement too, but moving the mouse leftward is a total adversity. Perhaps the real plan is for me to crack the box on the backup mouse of the same kind, a Logicraft Trackball, and resume a new round of being surveilled for my right (mouse) hand energetic interaction with grey colored plastics. I also note the new Trackball comes without the dumbshit red lit panels in the thumb area, something the perps must need as they continue with their right side passes by "pedestrians" (read, gangstalkers) making strange excursions on the sidewalk to ensure they keep in lefthand drive mode, another public behavior perversity that has erupted in my proximity since overt harassment began in 2002.

I am going to sign off for the day, as I will be taking the bus through the snow to visit the First Feral Family and my excessively acting father, repeating his same gangstalking moves from the exact same locations in the same way, all from dementia, another major bullshit stunt. Two weeks ago, after telling him not to stand in front of the TV and block my view, he tells me, "you just don't know". Not bad for a dementia patient, har, har, and then preceding the gangstalk routine of walking away while been spoken to. Been there, done that; I want fucking relief and answers, not some stupid bullshit act that makes it extra obvious.

I couldn't help it, the 22" LCD monitor was ordered, and duly noisestalked. The payment method was different, and that too is part of the consistent jerkaround scene related to financial transactions; take it to the brink and then fuck it up so it can be replicated again, preferably under differing daylight conditions. Finally, I get some relief from the now too-small LCD display, but I am sure a host of jerkarounds will ensue when I attempt to install it. The recent PC memory acquisition and install last week was a case in point; an extra $40 to get someone else do it when I wasn't allowed to. Keeping TI's broke is all part of the show.

And on a odd note, but of some relevance to the absurd, is a blog posting about Steve Fosset's widow. He was a famed explorer, holding many world records as to hot air balloon travel, continuous aircraft travel, and others, who died in a plane crash earlier this year. Apparently, he came back in ethereal form and told his widow everything will be OK and we will soon be in a world where there is no money and no war. I found this mildly fascinating, as per interest of the perps in all matters financial (above hassle over online ordering), and ponder if my perps are the same ones as he is in touch with in the spirit world. And too, the perps constantly noisestalk me anytime I see, think or ponder anything related to war including worlds like "front", "battle", "insurrection" etc.

Off to the show in the snow.

No comments: