Monday, January 19, 2009

Monday is for Tapping, Sirens and Freeway Noise

1400h
I am getting the tapping noise, as if the upstairs neighbor is tapping at something on an uncarpeted floor. Regular readers will know that both neighbors and uncarpeted floors are unlikely scenarios for differring reasons; there seems to be a dearth of authentic neighbors in any location I have lived in since 2000, even before the harassment began in 2002, and that most apartments have the same vertical configuration and furnishings floor to floor. Which doesn't answer the question, why would it be happening anyway? And this is at least the 20th time this has "happened" since being here, so could it be just more arranged noise and vibration from the assholes who inundate me with it all day long?

We have done two siren cascades since I got back from my parents place at 1130h, which is a bit much for a Monday, usually a slack day for emergencies. One siren cascade was even modified to have a 1960's style sound to it, blended with the current siren sound that we are all so familiar with. And the noise of a freeway outside is another absurdity as it is a bidirectional secondary artery below, and with traffic controls at every intersection. No one dares go fast as visibility is limited for the buildings being close to the street. Unless of course, they are confident that all traffic has been arranged and controlled, hence the odd Fuckwit bombing along in a filled dump truck, though rare.

2140h
At least 10 siren cascades today, and that makes it about 10x more often than when I lived in Seattle, a city that is 4x as large. But as this is the usual high harassment day, replete with at least four rage-ification stunts to keep me at the highly vexed state, it fits the pattern that Mondays are hell days.

I also got more disruption for the one hour cleaning job at the car dealership; even lingering "customers" and then their young children using the washrooms on the heels of me doing the garbage. And more dude confluences around me when attending to the brown plastic mop bucket filling; they love to arrive at this event and buzz around me, and this time they put on two of them, doing a tag team thing, one of them reprising as he was doing his overalls removing while sitting on the concrete floor while I was on my way to get the bucket. And while placing a stack of new plastic garbage bags on the counter at the Parts section, a gangstalking mechanic was copying me in placing a plastic licence plate hold on the counter some 10' away, walking the same direction as me, and then placing his plastic item down at exactly the same moment that I did. Naturally I don't get to see this in time to prevent it and foil the timing, as those kinds of thoughts are not allowed anymore.

Other events were a city bus freakshow, taking the bus in from my parent's place to downtown. The "least likely character to be found on public transportation" was my gangstalking seatmate for most of the trip. The dude in the black jacket, the black fine knitted toque with it pulled down to this black wraparound shades was the specimen in question. First I had a woman with wheeled tote beside me, and then this MIB dude who was sitting at the back, previously noticed by me, slithers up from behind and then sits beside me, within 30 seconds of the seat being free. These strange black hatted and shaded dude gangstalkers are becoming more common, but they still make me puke to look at them, so I looked outside for the duration to eliminate his visage from my peripherial vision. But this wasn't good enough, so he leaned forward, no matter how stupid or uncomfortable it looked, and then I turned my head a little more to ensure this Fuckwit wasn't seen at all. Anyhow, there were a few other freaks on board, and the bus was absurdly full for a 10 minute service at 1100h on a weekday morning. Like always, the perps are caring less about their cover story, and get right down to gangstalking without the pretense of normality. I also had at least six vagrants lined up when I got off the bus, so the bullshit of keeping the Unfavored demographic group representation in my proximity was duly maintained.

And I note that the perps are also putting on dudes in long black coats of late; having them hang around while I am doing the cleaning job, towering over me while attending to garbage cans and placing new plastic bags in them, and other fleeting looks/juxtapositons. My assigned task at the start of the cleaning job is to present myself to one of two staff at the car dealership when I arrive to let them know the cleaning staff has arrived and will take care of the alarm setting. This all came about when one of the staff, purportedly, didn't know we were there and put on the alarm which went off while I was working in the building. So today, the first day of this new protocol, I see the sales manager in his office, but he is not looking at me, and I am about to say something when another MIB-like dressed dude, albeit on the tubby side, comes swooping into the manager's office and places himself between us, to intervene in the visual contact. Then he steps aside after two seconds or so, and I get to fulfil my intent to make visual contact with the manager. So what was that all about? The first instance of this "requirement" of visual contact, and this tubby Fuckwit MIB in the long black coat steps between us before contact could be confirmed. I hadn't seen this dude before, and I am getting the suspicion this car dealership "staff" seems to be a perp dude parade show, somehow inculcating me with various Unfavored dude profiles, much like they appeared when they supposedly laid down the traumatic subconscious memory associations some 50 years ago. (Sometimes the male perps present themselves in fedoras, looking like they stepped out of a 1950's movie). Not my problem, so why am I being placed in confluences of strange dudes all the time?

The strangest dude today was the 6'8" negro dude with the funny hairnet type of hat and the loud yellow and orange clothing as he exited the elevator when I had summoned it to depart. Out walks this way fugly negro dude, now the third one to be featured on this floor, and in this loud colored clothing. Quite the show. I recall when in Seattle and walking with my negro boss, (with whom I got on well with), on the street and this tall negro was at at least 7' in front of us, and many of the passersby seemed to know him, as if he was some kind of basketball star. I asked my boss who he was, and he didn't know, he said. I don't get it; where were so many people engaged in making out as if this person was famous? That was before the perps overtly struck and made themselves apparent, so I shouldn't be too surprised that the assholes are replaying all their featured gangstalkers from before.

It was last Monday when the perps put on three negro gangstalkers in one block; one at each end and one oncoming in the middle who did a head down, hat (black) visible only walk toward me for 40' and then looks up when 6' in front of me, and is wearing shades when it is dark out. Mondays are high negro content days it would seem. And for the record, there are very few negros in this city, but one wouldn't know that from the number that I see, usually in strange situations and presentations. The perps would take the negros off the bus after three or so stops, though of late, they seem to be keeping them on for longer.

I haven't figured out why the perps continue with this "racial integration" gangstalking, but suffice to say, they had me lined up long before they struck with this current abusive tyranny. I had two negro employees of three at my last work site in this city, and I had a negro co-worker, and later boss when I worked in Seattle and Everett. What this is all about, and how they became one of the Unfavored isn't clear, save that the perps have suggested in their subliminal (almost like slimey) way, that they had young children of varying races in cages in some kind of military sponsored camp as shown in the Indian Lake Project. Their suggestion is that I was there, and retain subconscious recollections from this era that they are still attempting to emulate and thereby evoke the subconscious recollection they are desirous of purging. I say, leave me fucking alone, I am fine without the fucking help, and was finally getting my near-nutter ex out of my life when the assholes unloaded on me, bring Hell to every moment of my existence. And guess what; I get more exposure to nutters now. Fucking sick.

And in one of the more obvious tailings tonight, I had this Asian man walking toward me outside this apartment building, and then I cross his path after he walked by to get to the front door, some 20' set back from the sidewalk, and then this fucker reverses direction and arrives behind me, and even getting into the same elevator. He only "needed" to go to the second floor, so why didn't he take the stairs. This is as blatant as the Fuckwits who arrive in the doctor's office waiting room, don't see any doctor, and then follow me out to take the same bus back to downtown and even get off at the same bus stop. Fucking outrageous, if not, unsporting.

No doubt I am due for a few hours of wakefulness before being allowed to sleep, like most Mondays, and I expect that there might be some associated pounding noise overhead that will "follow: me there. Such is this existence, where even turning on a lightswitch can be made into an adverse experience. Another siren cascade follows that revelation. Time to call this one done.

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