Saturday, February 28, 2009

Back to Back Staring

A late start to blogging, but I did get some out time, my mother's birthday and so it was a lunch at a seaside restaurant. The food was so-so; a single chunk of cooked salmon on top of an excess of rabbit food doesn't make for a smoked salmon salad in my book, but hey, it was a free meal.

I was in the very corner of the building, windows on two sides of me and facing into the restaurant with the lovely Cordova Bay to my right. Should I go through the litany of blondes, then the jowly male among them, then later two red headed children with a seeming blonde mother, or leave it as yet another combination/parade of the Favored (blonde women) and the Unfavored (red heads, males, white haired folk and many others). I am sparing the details here as it gets tiresome as it does consistent, especially noticeable in a new venue, which this was. Follow the link for an explanation. Other feints were to have the transparent mylar gift wrapping "happen" to lie against the window to provide more material differences for persons or objects to be seen through (.e.g, double pane glass, and double pane glass and mylar).

I did my cleaning job at the car dealership tonight, getting there early as the Parts and Service sections that I regularly clean are closed by mid afternoon. Only the Sales section stays open until 1800h where the boss man regularly cleans. I got to do some extra wall cleaning and attempt to extricate myself from the perps doings; they created trickles of clean wall that the cleaning agent supposed had made, and all my rubbing with the cloth couldn't eradicate these new extra clean tracks that self erupted. Like I have said, everything I do or attempt is adverse, or has the expectation thereof because that is invariably what happens. In fact, it has gone on all my life so the assholes get to monitor the same activity over again. I suspect a huge number of the "glitches" we have come to know, even the Hadron collider problems that have prevented start up for nearly a year, are the work of the sickos. Just my take on world events, and having witnessed their extra conventional gravitic fuckery firsthand, and their relentless need for me to do the same things more than once, the second iteration for them it would seem.

Anyhow, on the way back I got extra clusters of gangstalkers, and then my loitering vagrant dude seen when outboud was then standing around instead of lying in his sleeping bag reading his book, and then when I see him, the dim figure in the dim light, why he is already prepared and is staring at me. Within 60' I turn the corner and lo, a blonde woman is 30' away and coming toward me, and is also staring at me. I once got the starings at a rate of 3 to 5 per month, now they are getting more of the gangstalkers to put on this bullshit. I had another staring three days ago when heading for yoga, and I just don't get what the fuckers want from this exercise.

On this same section of road, another two blonde women are coming toward me, and by this time I was managed for my "reaction" to just look down at the ground and not at them. Then in another 20' a dude and his blonde girlfriend were also loitering around, though not staring thankfully. A one block run of blondes it seems, three differing parties in various poses, perhaps as some kind of serial testing/evaluation compared the preceding dude in the shadows doing the same, though differing direction.

I took the bus out to my parent's place this morning at 1030h, a relative quiet time of day I though to be headed to the suburbs from downtown, but lo, if there wasn't eight fuckers at the bus stop. One dude put on this stand-in-my-way-on-the-sidewalk act, making sure that he was seen as borderline aggressive. After he got on the bus he gets off two stops later. He could of walked to his intended location faster but took a bus there. Another brown hoodied dude at the bus stop was reading a book, and after a few minutes, and without any bus in sight, he gets up and walks across the street, and then loiters there for a few minutes. I see one of these bus stop weirds nearly every round trip, and if you don't think it is odd, let me know. Only minutes before the bus came a red coated dude was walking along the sidewalk next to the curb where th bus was to come, and within a minute, another red coated dude does the same, the partial red painted bus pulling up when the latter red coat dude was beside it. Their red coats differed by a shade of brightness, but were of the same dark red hue. The bus trip was uneventful in my terms, but again, because I live in an an orchestrated state, I could see that the perps were totally beserk with the amount of staged red colored gangstalking vehicles for the entire bus ride.

I got paid today in rather strange circumstances. The bossman makes out that he is about to take off with his motor scooter after doing some circles and high revving outside the building. Then after I set the alarms, pressed the button for the motorized door closure, he says "quick, grab the door". Like WTF; for what purpose, for what likelihood that I could even oppose a motorized door, and all to have the alarm system go off? (Just when one thinks the guy is sane, he pulls a nutjob statement like that). Then he motions for me to come over, and then he pulls out the reciept he wants me to sign, and only then was I allowed to know that I was getting paid. I sign my name on the paper using the white painted concrete building for a firm backing surface, and then when "I think" all done (read, planted thought), he gives me the check. Another total mind fuck in other words; the perps fucked me out of knowing that reciept of a check was the essential item for a payday transaction. But the real question is, why didn't he do this when we were inside in the relative comfort of a warm building with lighting and availible surfaces to sign on? Like always, there cannot be enough combinations and permutations of all the things the assholes want to put me through. In case you are wondering why this is important, I get no end of harassment, surveillance, imposed finger fumbling fuckery, accompanying noise, light flashes and other arranged phenomenon every time I make a financial transaction, be it by check, at an ATM, using a debit card at the checkout, using a credit card online, paying bills online and any other method you can think of. Now included in the Summary of Perp Obsessions. which was updated today, though nothing new for regulars and TI's.

Here is the list of officers of the FFCHS group for Los Angeles area, less the names. Now can someone come up with a clinical explanation as to how so many individuals can be so organized about their collective harassment/condition? This is real, and all democratic notions of liberty and freedom do not matter one whit to the assholes who impose this insane and invasive brutality on its selected victims.

Elected the following people to pursue certain tasks for the LA Chapter FFCHS:
  • President / Liaison FFCHS –
  • Frequency / Countermeasure Research
  • Secretary & Crisis Support
  • History of TI’s (find links) & Alternative Medicine
  • Countermeasure/Surveillance Research
  • Legal Matters
  • Defamation of Character and Medical Contacts Research
  • MK Ultra & Operations TIP Research
  • Fundraising & Treasurer (Non-profit grants, disaster,transportation)
Tonight's blogging is done, and a Sunday beckons, possibly with an impaired sleep over the different diet today.

Friday, February 27, 2009

Final Ideation Intensification

All day and nearly every thought has been tainted with the planted ideation that the perps will intercept me in 45 minutes time when I am on my walking route to a doctor appointment. They have gone beserk in promoting this outcome, when all logical deductions would indicate that it will only be a doctor's appointment, meeting the brown little man for a white little piece of paper (Rx).

In other words, this possibility of cessation of hostilities has been planted in mind, and intensified today. This is level of intensity is unlike any of their past stunts of this type, but I have never been wrong in sticking to the facts; any notion that the perps will reveal themselves is totally spurious and patently absurd. And all such ideations as to otherwise are planted, and have been for over eight weeks now. Talk about tiresome, and time to end this dumbshit prank so I can get on with the regular harassment instead of this nonsense.

And the perps have been full measure in enraging me for most of the morning when not online. And the harassmen still continues when web surfing, such as selecting the wrong tab, application, link etc. This is routine, fucking with elective choices while in Windows.

I have been getting extra plasma bursts, beams and other exposures all today, including some lingering red and yellow beams sitting over my hands while typing earlier. These beams last over two seconds each, giving me plenty of time to affirm that they were indeed there. Other beams went through my fingers while typing. The maser action with the filamentous blackish wisps and balls has been also continuing, as have the vision and reading perturbations and disruptions. Just a regular day, and to my mind, a regular day of harassment and abuse, including the rest of today.

Last night when first in bed they put on extra overhead pounding and squeaking, street hollaring, road traffic noise and others, such that there were at least ten major noises competing to be heard, though no more than four at any given moment.

Two months of intense ideations did not come to pass. Nothing happened, except a predicted; I saw the doctor, got my Rx, and told my story and then walked through the gangstalking gauntlet. I had one fucker tailing me for half the 30 minute walk, and she had a navy blue jacket with a red scarf. There were plenty of other planted red plasma flashes besides the overabundance of red tail and brake lights. Finally, I can get back to basic abuse and basic motivation to get the needed things done instead of this dysthymic fugue state the assholes have kept me. Though, even by being back 20 minutes they rage-fied me already, so perhaps the intense and insane fuckery is going to continue. About the only thing that happened was extra traffic and traffic noise for the 30 minute walk each way, and greater noise at the location the assholes were predicting their interception to be. I cannot call it a relief, as they may start up another fucking lie and hammer me with predictions that don't pass.

I did my cleaning job tonight, and a new dynamic seems to have developed in that the boss man gets his work done a lot sooner than he did, even when I am faster and when he was 10 minutes late like yesterday. I did his vacuuming upstairs and downstairs, as it seems that there is sudden and huge surge of gangstalking vehicles passing by when I use the vacuum cleaner in the Sales area, that faces three streets. When I do the vacuuming in the Service area and near the entry door there is just about always some kind of setup visible through the glass door; headlights beaming in on me, dudes talking outside, someone attempting to get in (it is locked), and for entertainment, two women outside, one in brown and the other in red, doing thier farewell huggies in my purview. I cannot believe the amount of bullshit that erupts anytime I am near a vacuum cleaner, and that includes the street drain cleaners, commercial vacuum services running a cleaner from their service van, and all other variants of vacuum cleaning. It is fucking nuts, and yet it is so consistent as part of the gangstalk show.

I stopped in at the supermarket on the way back and lo, if the cleaning boss man wasn't there also, improving his average of "happening" to meet me there in the aisles, this time at a very favorite location for the perps, the tortillas of brown sproted wheat. They routinely put two or more gangstalkers at this area, and tonight it was the boss man's turn. All the more amazing is that he gets a ten minute head start with his motor scooter, and could be long gone even, but somehow lingers long enough to cross paths, often putting on the act of not seeing me.

Some messing about with graphic card reviews, prices and the reference bookmarks. All to keep my mindkeepers occupied as they just love that activity. I was thinking another stunt they put together was having me key in the alarm codes at the car dealership that I work in when we are about to depart, and then only 10 minutes later, having me key in the password code for my debit card at the supermarket. Again, it isn't any bit interesting to me, but for them, it is totally fascinating. And it is interesting to see how long it took for this activity confluence to tested; one month.

This one is done for the day, and time to call it quits on this day that the incessant ideations have finally ended.

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Overnight Snow

I might not be the only TI that has a lurking suspicion that snowfall confers some benefits for the harassors, being that any unusal color and grey scale juxtapositions are often arranged locally in the form of small bits of paper, crumbs and lint around one's person. It was only a few inches of overnight snow and then it was gone by the time I got out of yoga at 1230h earlier.

But it was an important event, yoga as it turned out. On my way there they put a native Indian blocking my exit from the elevator in the lobby, and the asshole didn't even lapse into the "sorry" act they so often like to put on. The asshole was parked one inch from the opening door, and readied to disrupt my exit, and would move; I was obliged to go around the Fuckwit, swearing at the same time. I haven't had elevator rushing acts for over a year, but this was the all time rudest altercation yet. He was dressed in two tone of blue with a blue ballcap and was pissing with his mail at the time. Fucking beserk and patently provocative to say the least. Note that a negro pulled this same stunt in the same unyeilding manner some 18 months ago.

I had the usual consort of shiftless and hooded males around me all the way to yoga, and a few other vagrant types and a shopping cart adorned with two kinds of blue plastic waving in the wind. The perps don't even bother to put a vagrant with their shopping cart acts anymore, but just leave it at busy intersections, unattended.

And as it happened, a new yoga teacher, who is pleasant and capable, but not as good looking at the last one. I suppose someone in perpland figured I was getting too distracted or some such. Today's teacher was in an all olive drab outfit, almost military colors, with a small band of red underclothing showing at her midriff. I suppose she was doing green over red clothing testing for the perps. The latter party was very active in making all manner of extra "environmental" noises, much like this apartment but louder, for the most of today's yoga class. They increased the both the volume and the duration of these noises as well as the in-building clunking and door slamming.

On the way back, two intersections in succession I had vehicles proceeding into the crosswalk when I had the WALK signal to proceed; they just looked the other way and moved into the intersection pretending they didn't see me. Again, more fucking blatant public rudeness. I haven't seen anyone be so fucking disrespectful of pedestrians until this harassment started up, but two instances of this orchestrated bullshit back to back takes the cake. More fucking beserkness today.

Other goings on have been elevated provocations to keep pissing me off and get me to vocalize and then noisestalk me while I am complaining, if not screaming, at the assholes to quit pissing with my life. They won't let me pick up a pen, book or anything without extra five to ten seconds of fumbling each time. Other provocations have been to flick food around in the kitchen, foil my grasp, add extra noise into everything I do, and even wobble me sometimes, applying some extra-conventional gravitic fuckery to make me run into a door or door jam while attempting to pass though. Another related provocation to promote more rage-ification is to apply faked touches to me; I feel the sensation but there isn't anything that touched me, not even close (more than 6" away). When some objects are grasped or near my fingers they will also jab me in the fingertips just to create the sensation but without any conventional causality. Needless to say the harassment level has been hign today, and the assholes have been keeping this up for over a week now.

And tomorrow will be the day all the planted ideations of cessation of hostilities will be done with hopefully, and I can get back to "basic and endless abuse" instead of these incessant planted notions that are extremely unlikely to unfold. I have been through at least ten such bullshit stunts as this, but not to the same degree of the assholes polluting me with this for six weeks and for most of each day. It just doesn't make any sense for them to stop, as they claim that this is where they really want to get started, now that 100% mind control has been attained. Or, at least, that is the way it seems as the noisestalking, the usual tip off, only comes on when I accept the planted notions which are often, but not always (per above) much what I would of thought of myself. Noisestalking still accompanies anytime I see an object, color or person from the Unfavored demographic groups, usually when viewing web pages. Though the odd time I get this when on the street, but as there is so much else going on I don't pay much attention to the noise games.

Another increasing type of fuckery is for the perps to make a teeth clashing noise and sensation in my mouth, but without the teeth actually moving. This is getting more prevalent of late, and I noticed they pulled this immediately after shaking hands with the new yoga instructor earlier. This is another example of escalating the invasive abuse of late, and that isn't the only mouth/internal head noise that has increased in frequency of late (last three weeks).

I did my one hour cleaning job at the car dealership tonight and most of it went OK. In fact it was most curious when I let the boss man in when he came 10 minutes late that he said it will be a easy night, meaning only a light load of cleaning. Strange he would say that as how did he know, he just arrived. But it was true, as he was mostly done when I was ready to help him and it seemed that he should of been much more behind in getting the job done as he usually is when he comes late. Very strange to say the least.

Listening to the Dixie Flyers, bluegrass music tonight interspersed with overhead rumbling noise from my tormentors, the sickos that won't anything to go unruined.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Slack and Fucked With

A slack day so far, except when being fucked with, then it gets to be intense rage-ification. The biggest sustained serial rage show was before, during and immediately after breakfast. They pulled objects from my grasp, applied fake touches to me, spaced me out to stand there and not get on with the intended activity of say, opening a cupboard, spaced me out as to where the teapot was, foiled me turning the light switches off and other fuckery to annoy me. And it is not like I have a choice in my "reaction"; it is an immediate rage show each time. And it could be that the sustained rage show was all about "readying" me for the news, as there was a Turkish airliner crash landing at Schipol Airport in the Netherlands. Regular readers will know that the perps are obsessed over presenting concepts of death, destruction and chaos, so perhaps they wanted me fully ragee-fied in advance of seeing this particular news item. The perps also have a geographic component to their harassment and exposure games they want me to read and see, and it includes the country of Turkey, as it does others e.g. France, Germany, Italy, UK, Scotland, Celtic countries/regions and a few others. I have no fucking idea why, but they did noisestalk me once when reading an article about genetic research of ancient populations and that the Italian Tuscans are originally from a region of Turkey. No, I don't believe that the perps would put on an aircrash for me to see that touched on various themes of theirs, but likely knew about it before I did and got me good and stinking annoyed before allowing me to read it. My theory is that one's auric energies are much easier to detect remotely when one is in this mood state, hence the perps using this as their first and best stunt; pissing me off. This is based on reading about a book where the author can see auric energy fields, and noted that there was a substantially larger field when someone is annoyed.

I was allowed to awaken at 0915h today, a 10.5 hour sleep, and I was indeed, allowed to sleep unlike the night before when I got about 3 hours of light REM sleep. As always, I was not suffering any bit yesterday for losing 5 hours of regular sleep time, 8 hours being normal before the perps overtly struck. No other perturbances in the night that I can recall, save the innocuous meat aerial games.

After that, and while online, the perps seem to relatively less horrid than when I am up and about, usually making or eating meals. I get plenty of plasma and maser games while viewing this LCD display, and copius amounts of typo and mouse sabotage, but nothing too intense. I wear my earmuffs most of the time, and they must like that a whole lot as they don't piss me off when wearing them. They build up a lot of noise in the earmuffs and I am sure there are some color benefits to it too, though again, I have no idea as to exactly why. And still they keep plugging me with ideations of shutting down the harassment in two days, Feb. 27, and if I have a choice, I refute them as I have never been wrong once in detecting this specious bullshit. It doesn't happen, and the assholes like to do this about three times a year. For whatever reason they decided on a six week run up of this bullshit, and while doing so keeping me from getting on with the grant grovelling I need to do, interviewing employers to validate my choices for courses to be supported in.

I am back from the cleaning job at the car dealership tonight. They seem to be big on getting red colored vehicles in the showroom with surrounding white, black and silver grey vehicles, much like vehicular gangstalking configurations. There wasn't anything too peculiar tonight, just that they brown boxed or wrapped parts are getting plenty of rotation and reshuffling each day. I walk through the Parts department to do cleaning, and from what I can surmise it seems legit to have the body parts in a black color so they can be painted to the correct color locally. I had the extra obvious gangstalking dude on me again tonight. He being a faux salesman who "happens" to extra busy to ensure that he buzzes around me three times, once outside and then twice inside the Service garage, crossing paths each time. Funny how his timing worked out; he was the same dude as yesterday putting on the gangstalking when I arrived, and on his cell phone doing back and forths, and then inside later. Tonight he did the male crotch grab simulation, as seen from behind with one arm directed to his crotch area, or at least simulating this state. I cannot cound how many times I have seen male gangstalkers doing this, but they are so consistent that there must be some subconcious reaction they are attempting to elicit. Again, I have no recollection of any males making threatening gestures by crotch grabbing.

I had my posse of gangstalkers on me when I departed the car dealership tonight, the first being a pair of odd dudes, one wearing a red hat. I haven't figured out the red hat bullshit either, but it is very common and more than one would expect normally, pre-overt harassment.

I also stopped at the supermarket on the way back, and had my usual gangstalkers, and got out as fast as I could, all no problem, and lo, if it wasn't the boss man's scooter outside the store. This is the second time this week he has "happened" to be in the store when I also stopped by. He should of been long gone as he had a 10 head start on me as he drives a scooter. All to continue the gangstalking in a different location other than when working at the car dealership it would seem. It is very interesting that it is so fucking blatant; another "tour the victim" fuck again. I know the assholes know I am totally fed up and utter dispirited from seven years of this fucking relentless stalking, mindfucking and abuse, and still they continue.

Another big deal for the perps at the car dealership cleaning job is to have their shills or operatives pass through the glass door while, or soon after cleaning it. Tonight, another pair of Fuckwits arrived from nowhere to pass through the Service area where I was working, and then I get to lock the door after them as they claim they don't have the keys. Why don't they exit via the garage door by themselves? One of them had visited me once before, "finding me" upstairs cleaning the women's bathroom and indicating that he was going to exit the building by unlocking the Service entrance door, and that I would need to lock it again. Just more dude loitering it would seem, and it is very likely that they might be morphovers of long past perp abusers if this did happen in fact. See yesterday's blog for a short write up, or else the Favored and the Unfavored which has a longer introduction to what might be the reasons for the spectacular consistency of the gangstalking acts and related props.

If the theory of subconscious recalled abuse from 1956 to 1959 is in fact true, although without any conscious recall, it is very likely in those days that the abusers/perps would mostly of been males, and hence their predominance in the current gangstalking acts that suggest they are partially replicating the circumstances of the time when there would of been a significantly greater perp population. I have remarked in recent blog postings of the black vehicles with black tinted glass and the long black coats on the MIBs/male gangstalkers which again might of been more attempts to elicit subconscious recollections. The two dudes in fedoras and long black coats as faux greeters at the optician in December has to be the all time silly MIB show, straight out of flim noir. All that was needed would be for the perps to convert everything into black and white which they can do with their light manipulation games, or directly via the visual cortex.

More bookmarking of interesting CD's and at the same time determining some of the perp's relentless interest in having me do this, some 50k bookmarks since 2002. I was evaluation Frederica von Stade's ouvre on and bookmarking what I thought would be the most interesting CD's which generally does not include classical music. What was interesting was they they had me bookmark titles under my directories of "S" (for von Stade titled with her name first), "Various" (for multiple performers, titled as "various"), "Soundtrack" (for shows, title with show name first), and in in a few cases, the composer name was first. Four different ways to convey the appropriate title of the bookmark in differing directories under the parent directory of "Music". And for them, that is fascinating stuff, worth all seven years of relentless fucking abuse. No one could imagine anything so fucking obsessive as this.

Enough for tonight, and on with the dreary details tomorrow. I seem to be on a full night's sleep schedule again, if not overly so.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Mondayness on Tuesday

No such luck in being allowed to sleep last night. At best I got a few hours of light REM sleep bookended with a few hours of wide awake time, replete with the outside noises as well as a new escalated round of ticks, pops, clicks, ker-chunks and others inside this apartment. It was worse than having the earmuffs on as they decided to time these seeming disparate sounds together, like music, one note (noise type) immediately following another in a regular pattern, every second or so. Another never-before noise escalation, on top of one earlier yesterday that also was part of the nightime show while in bed. Then to top it all off, after a barrage of preceding heavy equipment noise, they got me up at 0450h. I haven't had this kind of disruption for a while, perhaps six months or more, but the nature of these Monday night near sleeplessness seems to be to keep whatever Monday harassment gains continuing into Tuesday. That is the best explanation I can provide, as there has been a preponderance of these types of imposed wakefulness on Mondays, not to mention other harassment games. And in keeping with yesterday's fuckery they had me rage-ified over various serial provocations; a towel sticking to my foot, sharp fake touches, pulling items from my grasp, vision fucking so I couldn't detect the label on my shirt so it "ended up" on backwards, flicking crumbs around at breakfast, flicking jam around (it wasn't enough to liquefy it in the jar), and messing with the hot water supply while in the shower, no matter if there were very few other water users at that time of the morning.

And it would seem, with the sunrise light being particularly penetrating, more than it ever has been, that the perps needed me to be doing my regular web site browsing at this critical time of day. That is, critical for them and their nonconsensual research/abusive and invasive fuckery. I have never seen the sunrise having so many cycles of brightness and then fading out, at least four in the past 15 minutes, another never-before event. And I see that there was a light rain shower in the night, very possibly connected, though I don't claim to know exactly what it is, but base my speculation on the timing of past rain showers and their propensity to "happen" just before setting off driving.

The neighborhood tapping noise has started up as I am typing this; this is at least a 18 month long intermittent source, and yet there is no evident activity which supports these construction type of noises.

I am done all my regular web troving for the day, and still have most of it remaining for "do-squat", as in forced nothing time, though invariably some notion comes in from afar to spin the activities some more. There is a decided emphasis on having me wear earmuffs, aka hearing protection, and then have the perps slowly increment the noise in them; a ringing din, a distant voice on the radio like sound, and of course the transitory noises that somehow get through, and when I take the earmuffs off to block my ears the offending noise is quite faint. Funny how that keeps happening.

Other abusive shit is the fuckers invoking a metallic flavor in my mouth this morning, just a hint coming through every so often to remind me that any sensed input is at the behest of my mindkeepers. The degree of typo sabotage is getting intense, so time to refrain from baiting the assholes anymore.

The left upper eyelid spasms are back again, and it seems that it is mighty cuurious that is where other plasma bursts and pertubations have been coming from. And back in my college days in 1976 or so I had that same "problem" and saw a doctor for it who gave me my very first, and thankfully last, prescription for Valium to "break" the spasming. Little did I know he was conscripted for the cause to aid further invasive fuckery that still has its manifestations.

Tea and chocolate are done, and now it is time for the perps to play post-food intake games, the attraction being the process of digestion, and I would assume, the color changes that go with it. I am getting a three vehicle siren cascade, and I am sure that is part of it too, getting through my earmuffs. I also heard the jackhammer noise for the first time in four days immediately after lunch, so I will assume that it is part of the show too. And the forced sleepies as well now, driving me to stop blogging for now.

Here is an interesting article, If it is Hard to Say it Must be Risky. I notice that the perps pump me with spam from many nationalities and like to noisestalk me the instant I see a foreign name. They have also set me up to hear foreign names as well, it it might be for the reasons that are mentioned in the link. Foreign names, particularly if they cannot be readily translated to English will bring on a sense of distrust. And this normal and protective reaction might be the reason the assholes find it so interesting whenever I see or read foreign names.

I am being contained in a depressive blue funk this afternoon; a state the assholes like to keep me in at times. Though, oddly, they had me in an almost over happy mood at the end of the cleaning job last night. I instantly recognized the assholes had created a never-before mood state for that context, and then they immediately took me down a notch to be relatively neutral. Other TI's (Rachael O) are getting intensified feelings of despair, and it does make me wonder why the perps seem to be coordinating this.

An early dinner was just completed with plenty of provocations from the assholes; jabbing me underfoot, flicking water about, faked touches when I was at least 18" away from anything, crumb deposition games and others all to a selective background of outside noise. Girls screaming noises were scripted exactly at the moment the olive oil was poured into the frypan, in keeping with their obsession over this food item, and essential fatty acids in general. So now back to online putzing until 1730h when I head out for the cleaning job at the car dealership. After an extended session of being cooped up (since 0410h this morning), I am quite sure the gangstalking will be on the extreme side if past history is a guide. And of course this is the food digestion time, always a big deal for the assholes as well, likely because of gradual color changes to the food as it is digested. Much the same as the tea steeping being of such interest; a slow gradual change in color gets the perps very excited, whether it is in direct line of sight or inside my stomach.

And they are also adding more red tinting to this white LCD display, either across the entire 22" screen or on spots that linger on from the immediately preceding display. They are jangling me with plenty of red colors today, not unlike yesterday, and aren't concerned about massing them as much as they once were. Other increased color games have been with real objects, and it is mostly in the form of enhancing the edges of the dinner plates or other crockery with a band of yellow or violet. Regular readers will know that I have been given the reason for this as LSD emulation, stemming from the time, they say, that they dosed me when aged 2 to 5 years old, 1956 to 1959. Apparently, the traumatizations were captured in my subconscious recollection, something that they cannot yet totally fuck with. This comes from a very unreliable source, but they have been consistently doing this edge enhancement for at least five of the last seven years of this intesified harassment, so there might be some merit in their planted explanation. I don't know of other TI's who get this same visual perturbation that I do. And too, regular readers will recall from nearly two years ago when my in-town brother and I were packing my furniture across our parent's lawn, normally green, and the assholes made it all red colored. It was totally bizarre and my brother remarked on it. I was severely rattled by the experience, but I have no idea if it was the sickos governing my "reaction", or if it was a genuine response. That marks one of three major fuckups from the "lost years" that they have informed me of, again without any conscious recall.

Another major fuckup of theirs they tell me about was visiting the infamous Dr. Cameron in McGill in Montreal where we lived from 1956 to 1957. There is some recollection of those days, but some inexplicable disjunct periods of no recollection, not to mention a likely three day train ride back to Victoria here. And when looking at old photographs two weeks ago at my parent's place I saw a picture of me and my younger brother in a stroller taken in Montreal. That would mean that I was there in 1958-9, and I have absoluted no recollection of this second stay in Montreal. My younger brother was born in Victoria in 10-1957, so that meant there was more back and forthing to Montreal than I knew about. And with no recollection of him arriving, or even his care, and not even of him or a second trip to Montreal in 1958-59, it is mighty mysterious as to what the fuck went on and how did we get about, as it would of been by train, my father's preferred mode of travel until the 1970's.

The perps did enlighten me a few days ago when I was recalling, or more like them planting, 1956-57 recollections of being in Montreal, the first trip. I remember being out in the very deep snow outside the house, and then the next time I recalled exiting the front door it was all gone. It was a total surprise and there was no graduated appreciation of the snow melting. I have never had such disjunct recollections in my life since the purported memory fucking days until 1960 when I started school, so it remains rather mysterious these very fragmentary recollections were established and that they were disjunct, not to mention zero recall for the latter Montreal trip. Very curious all this, as well as the Scottish accents that are part of the Unfavored and the freakshow, as Dr. Cameron was Scottish. One of the Duplessis Orphans who I spoke to on the phone last year said that he was also a child abuser, something that has never made it into the many writings of his former patients. Another interesting tidbit, and I wouldn't know if this was a means to plant this as an elicitation of my subconscious recall, or if he was recounting that tale of woe in more detail. This is another angle the assholes tantalize me over, these fleeting snippets and emulations, especially the skinheaded males, and I really don't know why they stick with this theme to the degree that they do.

And the amount of clunking that is going on, and getting through my earmuffs, tells me that the assholes have a very strong interest in me recounting the above purported abuse, and the seeming recall deletions they may have performed. Certainly, my recall is unusually fragmented over that time frame and unlike anytime since.

More bookmarking tonight with the earmuffs on and the introduced crackling sound each time I bookmarked, read a name, displayed a photo of a musician, performed Windows select, copy and paste functions and manipulated text for the bookmark description. And to add to the fucking annoyances, the leg torquing and muscle twitching was imposed at the same junctures and often simultaneously with the earmuff noises.

Tonight it is Serena Ryder's concert keeping me company as I type. Not metal by a wide margin. The entire music interest of the perps has me intrigued for many reasons; not only the coincident arrangement with their noise stalking, but also the intense interest they have when I read their names or see a photo, but also the guitar stalking. In the latter case I had another troubador gangstalking (aka guitarstalking) act with the Fuckwit balancing his guitar over his shoulder by leaning on the neck with one hand. Totally absurd, and if anyone cared for their instrument they would never hold a guitar in that fashion. I just don't get it as to why they need to show me guitars all the time. Though in theory, it could also have something to do with the above mentioned "lost years".

And lo, if the headphones don't exhibit the same spontaneous clicking and clunking at the same junctures as the earmuffs mentioned above. And plenty more text distortion fuckery while reading online. First they wouldn't let me read much, and then after a break, they did, but added in perceptual vision fuckery such as having the web page text shift left or right a paragraph at a time, lift off the page seemingly and a host of never-before visual perturbances.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Intense Monday

I am back from a stayover at my parent's place, the perp abetting assholes that brought this didpicable state of affairs to me, and the entire city of shills and related sickos. My father was doing his dementia act again, and spending most of his time aligned behind my mother sitting uncomfortably on the couch with his head turned. His regular chair has a far better view of the TV, but this "aural penumbra loitering" as I call it must be important. I just think it is pathetic, one more magnitude's worth, as either the dementia or the dementia act, whichever it is, is the first order of comtemptable, and then posing, pacin, peekaboo games and the rest of these stalking behaviors are the next set of pathetic. The penumbric loitering is a more recent development, and he spent a few hours in this mode while watching TV last night. IT was the usual fare; news with the two blondes, 60 Minutes, Doc Martin, Rebus and then CBC Sunday Night. Not all bad, and elements of perp content in some of them, and then there was the later pixellation and frame freeze games the assholes were pulling. This was when 60 Minutes was on, and they would garble the signal to insert random pixels in it, screw up people's faces and freeze the video while the audio continued. In addition, they continually desynchronized the audio and video by a second or less for most of the evening just to play more fucking games.

There were some brief forays to watch the Academy Awards, and that stupid montage for Movie of the Year that Speilberg presented had to be the worst abomination going. I haven't seen any movies this year on account of my mindkeepers, and then to intersplice then with past snippets of Oscar winning movies without any notice of change or relevance was straight out of perp training; what movie am I watching, who is talking to who, what relevance is this to what I just saw and like sensations of discontinuity.

While watching TV last night in the living room I couldn't but notice that there were no end of maser and plasma games going on. Rippling metallic and bright point sources of light, beams across the room, and various other obviousness that the fuckers were at work. At one point they pulled my glasses down and when I pushed them back on my nose the assholes took the "opportunity" to then skew the TV in my vision, flipping it off the horizontal and vertical by almost 45 degrees in a stroboscopic presentation. It was quite bizarre, and all the more so as they seem to need an excuse when they can do this anytime. I don't get it, as who are they attempting to fool? It never happened before, and now it does, and if they are so highly invasive as it seems, then who else is watching to ensure they have half of an excuse to perturb my vision?

But they did let me get to sleep without the usual hour of loud mufflered vehicles trailing off into the night, the typical noise profile they like me to hear almost anywhere.

Other fuckery today has been to impose intense rage-ified "responses", controlled by them, for sending me to the wrong cupboard for the teapot, and then impeding the removal of the teabag from the sachet. They are beserk over tea making, especially when the tea is steeping and changing color, and this time then went totally beserk to make sure I flew off the handle instantly and screamed at their sick minded fuckery all to ensure I was truly enraged. No complaints from the neighbors, or fake neighbors that would be, as I haven't been convinced there is anyone on this floor for sure, and that would be the same as my last four residence locations.

I got an E. Indian woman coming around to ask about the cable service a short time ago; I can only assume she was there to present herself as some kind of prop in the ongoing perp racial games. She didn't look too comfortable about doing her schtick, though there was nothing that I said that would of caused that reaction. Past experience has told me that even small emotional nuances are important for the sickos, and I suppose it all went according to plan, like usual.

As mentioned in past blogs, Mondays are high harassment days, and my theory is that they learn certain things about me in terms of remotely assayed energetic interactions, especially while watching TV, a CRT model (magnetic radiation), and they wish to be able to detect them here when back at my apartment and then later when I head to the car dealership to do my one hour cleaning job.

Thankfully the harassment bullshit settled down after the above mentioned round. And they laid off me for the most part when doing the cleaning job tonight, save the wrong-end-of-the-plastic-bag games which have been their specialized focus for the last two weeks. I got the cell-phoning greeter in the long black coat just outside the front entrance instead of inside as I arrived at the car dealership, site of the cleaning job. Then the manager, who has been conspicuously absent for the last two weeks was near the closet for the cleaning supplies in a brown coat, talking to the greeter dude. I haven't quite figured out what that vignette was about; was it a comparative presentation as to who has the most odious aura, or was it one conferring the aura to the other, presumably from the more familiar manager to the newcomer dude in his long black coat. No idea, but even the most fragmentary two second long sighting is highly arranged. The blonde saleswoman said hello to me in the hallway, so perhaps that was part of the setup for the aforementioned vignette.

And I see in the shop at this Mazda dealership that they put a big honking silver-grey Cadillac in one of the bays. I cannot imagine why is was there in a business sense. I also got a white GM van in the car lot before I entered the building with someone inside it doing something furtive. I cannot get over the number of times the perps want to make themselves look obvious by having someone sit in their vehicle, seeming to be doing nothing except looking around. They even stationed a taxi and driver outside the apartment building in this same scenario, though more plausible, even if it is the first time that I have seen a taxi there. Even some of my work colleagues in 1999 to 2000 when I was driving to work in Everett would be doing the same thing at lunch time; sittiing in their vehicles that "happened" to be near mine, all for me to see this particular setup.

Another vignette the perps are spooking me over, or more like, controlling my reaction to be aversive, even if just visually, is displaying large black colored vehicles, as if some kind of unmarked government vehicle. I wonder why they are doing this; setting them up, and then spooking me? It seems so fucking amateur, like overacting almost. Regular readers might discern that if I was subject to various military and clinical tests, if not abuse, such as the Indian Lake Project, then such props such as large black vehicles with black tinted glass just might be the perps attempting to stimulate some long forgotten subconscious aversions. Could be, which would be an extension of the freakshow of the Unfavored, and serve to underscore the military aspect of their gangstalker presentation games. The dumbshit arm flinging walk of the perps is still playing, and has led me to ponder if it is to partially replicate marching soldiers. Gangstalkers are sometimes arranging themselves in two ranks, side by side, again, as seeming emulation of soldiers in formation.

I got to do extra vacuuming tonight as the boss man claimed to have a pinched nerve in his back. Which could be true, as the perps like this specialty very much as I have quite a few and no idea as to how they happened. Even mid-day onset pinched nerves from no apparent cause. At any rate, I did the extra vacuuming and noted there was a huge stream of traffic going by outside while I was vacuuming the upstairs. The downstairs vacuuming has been long gangstalked with large clusters of passing vehicles, so it is likely the assholes want to correlate their main floor vehicle cluster game outcomes to that of the same activity, but upstairs and in a different orientation. More games, and more speculation, but always very consistent and progressive along the various tasks they find most favorable; vacuuming, bending over, twisting, coiling wire, etc. These can be categorized as spinal stretching, arrangement of metals, and manipulation of plastic objects.

And true to form, after work I stopped in at the local supermarket, and even with the boss man getting a substantial head start with his scooter, he "ended up" at the same location as I did, next to the tortillas. If my recollection is correct, this is three Mondays in succession where he "happened" to be at the same place after work, and with a 10 minute head start each time.

A new TI site, Aussie Targetted Weblog, has the details of what it is like to be actively messed with. Have a read at the link; I don't miss these highly invasive stunts like they pulled for all of 2002 when they first went into overt harassment on me, but it seems like they haven't given up and "need" to harass someone from the Southern Hemisphere.

Another site has only a rudimentary posting, introducing gangstalking, but has 169 comments as of this writing, and many are TI's telling their story. Unbelievable, and yet it is happening everywhere.

Time to call this one done and hope that the Monday harassment won't extend to keeping me up for hours as it has done in the past.

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Intense Abuse

At breakfast and at lunch the sickos have been hammering me with escalated unreality games and highly annoying pranks to send the rage-ification level to about the most sustained levels yet. In the interim, and while online, the assholes have backed off. Obviously the food and movement foils them in some way, and their percieved "need" to crank up the rage levels to full bore while engaged in activity outside of web surfing at my desk with the earmuffs on to limit the environmental noise from being too bothersome. Though when they want to get noise through the earmuffs they will.

The rage-fication games have included new levels of conventional reality perversion; having things move by themselves immediately ahead or after I contact them, and at least a second apart so there isn't any mistake as to the fake-outs making it seem if there was any causal. The extra noise games of placing things down or picking them up is another; extra noise while active and extra noise before or after the activity. Again, totally obvious. So they must be gaining some kind of progress while web surfing with earmuffs on and then want to translate those gains to when I am standing up and over at the kitchen or table, only 7' away at the most. And also they are applying more vision impairments, curtailing my field of view. It would seem that the perps have lapsed into more beserkness today.

They still keep planting the ideation of ceasing hostilities soon, but who cares, as they are totally fucking nuts and second by second of dealing with this imposed hell is the reality, not some bullshit stunt they promise when the six year history is that they never happen as advertised. As far as I know, there hasn't been any other like changes for others in the TI community, this seems to be a made-for-me vituperousness that is unrelenting, even when making the bed before breakfast.

I have been getting blatant plasma beams in front of this LCD or beside it this afternoon, and they are even timed to the instant I see there is a typo. At least 14" long, 1/2" wide and two seconds or so, and bright. No more of these subtle fleeting flashes in my peripherial vision, but front and center and even arranged as a counterpoint to what is on this display. One violet horizontal band in the LCD display was alternated with a same length green plasma band over top of it, and then the green plasma band was arranged to be over the display, not in front of it. A decided escalation of these fucking games today, and they haven't relented much since I got up.

As this is a Sunday, a visit to the perp-abetting parents is scripted and I wonder what will transpire there; escalated fuckery or backing off lest it become topical and undeniable. Can't have the latter condition has been my experience, but I shall see. No doubt my father's unerring ability to walk, or even stand, in front of the TV immediately before or after using the remote control will be exercised all the more. Not a bad act for someone who puts on the dementia bullshit and then blows his cover at least once per visit. And Monday, the day I return, will no doubt be highly agitated, as that is where they seem to obtain the most gains and then attempt to identify them here in my apartment or when I am going out. The head pressing sensations that immediately follow putting on my toque when headed for outside seem to be less, suggesting that they don't need to do that each time I head outside of my apartment, which is where it comes on.

I am off to sick central shortly, that being the parent's place that will doubtless spawn a new round of heightened fuckery for the entire week. The joys of being among Fuckwits, Fuckups and Assholes again.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

More of the Same

More of the same dullness unfortuneately. So far, before I head out at 1730h for the one hour cleaning job I haven't been out, not even for a Saturday national newspaper; very slack, and very contained. Keeping me at the 22" LCD monitor with earmuffs on seems to be the biggest priority along with creating distortions of the text, lines, graphics and additional plasma colors. They can dick with one's visual cortex directly, and the lines or seen objects in question, and in realtime. Hence, this LCD will have sudden displays of converging lines in my peripherial vision, and then when looking at it in central vision, it is gone. This is only one example, and it goes on for at leat four of these per minute. In addition they have blackish wipsy trails and balls floating about all the time, nonstop, and add in small plasma flashes on a as-needed basis. When I was having tea earlier and eating chocolate with it, they decided I needed an orange flash some 18" in front of me, and about 1/4" in diameter for a second or two. Perhaps they needed to reference this color with the brown colored chocolate, or perhaps they needed to piss me off. One never knows what the game is, all the time.

I have been getting pains shooting down my right arm, starting from the elbow. And lo, if the pains don't come on when I am flipping through web pages and see something that is Unfavored, especially a bald male head. For whatever reason the assholes are putting on skinheaded males around me, and anything that remotely resembles it. So, if at the bottom of a web page on the LCD display there is a half round pink object, and I scroll down to see what it is in total, there might be a shooting pain down my arm. The remote access of my nervous system isn't new; one time when hiking they shot something that nailed me in the lower back and sent a nerve sensation down my right leg, then it was over as suddenly as it came on. The precision of this piece of fuckery boggles my mind, then as well as now; they could remotely access the intended neural circuit in my spine to direct a sensation down one leg only, not the other. This is the kind of crap that makes one resigned to this bullsit, though they like to moderate that perspective too.

I will say though, the perps have been less invasive than usual today, though that could change when I go outside in a short while. Even the nearly always rage-fication when applying peanut butter and jam to my one piece of toast at breakfast was reduced to one rant due to some adverse fuckery, not allowing me to clean the knife of the first item before using the second if I recall correctly. This is on the light side for sure. And in keeping with the past five weeks, they keep telling me that Feb. 27th will be an interesting day. As always, for an outfit that has lied about these kinds of big events consistently for over six years, isn't to be believed. All that will occur will be my doctor's appointment. And if past experience is anything to go by, they will remind me of this big build up of six weeks while there, and as soon as I recognize that in fact, it was all bullshit, why, the doctor will clear his throat, shift his legs, rattle his papers in various combinations and permutations. Life has been getting dull to say the least, and I would have to say it seems to be planned that way, especially with the dearth of employers responding to my applications.

More bookmarking of interesting music at Slipcue. This activity is roundly monitored and messed with by my tormentors, though for the most part they are putzing with Windows select, copy, cut and paste in all its variations as well as being obsessed over semi colons and blank spaces as I arrange the artist name first ahead of the album name in the title of the bookmark before saving it to my 30 Mb Bookmark file. It keeps them happy, and I don't mind playing pretend spender and making out that I could possibly afford all these music titles, let alone have time to listen to them. Any heavy metal afficianados won't find much of interest at Slipcue unless they also like old timey music as well.

This one is done for the day, and I wonder what the assholes have planned. They went beserk on me after I got back from the cleaning job, getting me rage-ified in succession with fake touchings, faked noises, flicking soapy water about (couldn't have come from the open teapot I was cleaning as the opening was facing the opposite direction to the travel of the soap suds that erupted from nowhere), and other long running provocations.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Shut In Time

More of the "155" thing again if you have been following these postings. And if you haven't, don't fret as it is the only numeralology references that I have allowed on this site as I don't go there as a rule. It is too fraught with silliness already in a credibility deficit on account of being an electromagnetic serf to my tormentors, the same assholes that arrange the web sites that I peruse online and have noises arranged each time I scroll or change web pages. Even operating a light switch is fascinating for them, as they routine manipulate my fingers to miss, or pull the switch back for a one second flash of light and then it goes off again. Such is life in the disability lane, that arrangement for the perps to access me all the time, and even the doctor refuted the diagnosis, and no other clinician has followed up on it. Amazing that, finding such consistent sandbagging for three doctors in succession who don't want to hear much about what is going on.

This has been a low activity day, but I was allowed out to deposit my paycheck from last weekend and help paydown my line of credit. I had a heavy gangstalking contingent for 0900h when most stores don't open until 1000h in this town. Few exceptional weirds, save the double black MIB act in mid sidewalk and his look-at-nothing stance. He wandered out from a small parking lot in mid-block and was dressed totally in black with a black toque pulled down to cover his neck. He was doing the look-down-the-street act, where there was nothing exceptional to see, and his back was toward me. As I got within 10' of the dude in mid sidewalk, he turns his head around to look behind him, exposing his face, and lo, if he wasn't a negro. Very unusual in this town, but they seem to have an affinity for "showing up" in my proximity. See the Favored and Unfavored for a possible rationale for them to be orchestrated as often as there are. And it wouldn't be the first time that they put a negro gangstalker in close to me who suddenly erupted from close by. Last summer there was one who popped out from a parked cube van, making out he was helping with a move, some 8' in front of me. Before that, a negro dude "happened" to be at the street corner where I turned 90 degrees, getting within 3' of me on the sidewalk. Last week it was a 6'4" negro, not engaging in any peekaboo games though, was at the elevator when it opened one floor down, and who came in, stood beside me, and then walked out.

As one can tell, this is not an exciting day so far, and given the elevated vituperative and petty harassment so far this week, it is a good thing. My mind-keepers like to rile me up, which is their biggest play, and anything less is a blessing. My in-town brother didn't phone about gardening jobs today, so I imagine his arrival two days ago was more about doing the brown-black color testing in combination with perp plasma and backlighting games with me at the window. I have seen black and brown dressed gangstalkers side by side at least twice since then, and it would seem that they are attempting to use the black reference for their color and energetics fuckery games and whatever they are looking to detect off me.

And I suppose, this afternoon, begining a new stack of chocolate bars, this brand wrapped in foil and then in a crimson red paper, might also be high excitement for the SS (Surrepticious Sickos). While eating the chocolate the accompanying escalated noise stalking was a tip-off of external interest, and I will learn more firsthand when I set off later to do the one hour cleaning job at the car dealership. My work bound foray at 1730h from this apartment building is often heavily gangstalked. And more of them are wearing red of late, often a his-and-her pair in the same red garments for chrissakes, something I had never seen before all this bullshit landed on me.

I am getting more mouth drying games going on of late; not only is this totally ucharacteristic, but also somehow remains undetected for long durations, some 30 minutes or more. Regular readers will know that the perps often put on "open mouthing" gangstalkers, or similar variations with their tongues hanging out, eating food, chewing gum or moving their tongues around in their mouths in my proximity. Spitting and puking too, though the latter is rare. And I do see more spit on the sidewalks on my walking beat, including this morning's two block visit to the ATM.

I once was allowed to see how the spittings happened; there were spittings about every 30' or so on this stretch of sidewalk, and I couldn't see anyone doing it, not even the gangstalking pair of dudes ahead of me. But there was this splat sound every so often, and lo, if the spitting didn't arrive by itself (aka teleported) and hit the sidewalk with a characteristic sound, and yet no one was doing it. It was landing in front of the gangstakers ahead of me, and of course they didn't even flinch as this spit arrived immediately at their feet. Which begs the question as to whose spit it was; theirs, just with an extra conventional delivery system, or someone else that we both might of known. It staggers the imagination as to how much fuckery goes on over my mouth contents, and by extension, those in my proximity. And we are now closing in on seven years of surrepticious nonconsensual human experimentation with my mouth contents and its energetic properties as being an essential focus of these mind-fuck and harassment games. I suppose if one is remotely assaying one's brain energies, and color was a component of this, then the mouth contents at every given moment are extremenly important, being only an inch away from one's neural matter. Not my problem, so why have I been drafted into it?

The maser and plasma and lighting games have also been getting more perturbing; I constantly have the grey fuzzy balls and lines flitting about, and sometimes there gets too many, or that they persist over top of something else. The plasma games seem to be about displaying a color sample where they don't have an object as a prop. When walking the distance of my apartment from kitchen to bathroom after breakfast, the sickos put on a peanut butter colored beam off the carpet, presumably to get a reading/reaction from this color while not at the table where I ate a single slice of toast with peanut butter. Another plasma color game is to add a yellow or purple 1/8" to 1/4" edge enhancement to the white dinner plates when handling or looking at them. And today, they even went as far as to project yellow plasma that came off the plate, putting the same color and shape some 5" off the plate as if it were ghosting. The perps tell me that they are attempting to emulate a early childhood LSD traumatization, but that is coming from the most dubious possible source. I have no recollection of this, though they did once (two years ago) put on a red colored lawn grass when my in-town brother and I were packing my furniture across it. He saw it too and made some reference as it lasted for some 40 seconds or so and I felt like puking afterward. How the perps did that I have no idea, but every blade of grass was red colored. I told the doctor about it but he didn't seem too moved. I would assume this was some kind of test to compare my brother's reaction to that of mine, based on the supposition that we have some fundamental cognitive differences between us with respect to the color red as well as something so odd and so horrid (as I found it).

I did my cleaning job tonight at the car dealership, and the perps seemed to leave me alone for the most part, except jerking me around as to which end of the plastic bag to open. I grasp the end where I expect it and then it is not there, only to find that it is the other end. I didn't have this problem when I first started the job two months ago, and now it has become prevalent. Go figure.

There were hordes of gangstalkers on the street; more at 1900h when coming back than at 1730h when headed there. Another nightime negro dude doing the intersection loitering with his Caucasian pal, plus at least another 15 or so at this one intersection which has only a coffee shop and and restaurant. I have had other negro gangstalkers at this same location in the same circumstances, on my way back. It seems that the daylight time isn't as important as nightime negro gangstalkers. I haven't figured it all out, but they don't want me to identify them until they are very close, same as the above mentioned incident this morning.

A constant barrage of bullshit ideations again, indicating that Feb. 27th doctor's appointment is going to be a big event. It is fucking tiresome to have these constant baseless notions planted, and I really don't fucking care. It is a doctor's appointment, that is all, and something I never give a care about. If it is something else, then I will find out then as I am always the last to know, by design. All previous planted notions of like kind have never materialized to be nothing but utter bullshit, and I would never invent these myself, as I have been through over 10 such stunts in the past seven years, and haven't been wrong once. They don't happen, so why should I expect a fucking doctors appointment to be anything different? It doesn't make any sense except to demonstrate that invasive mind technologies are operational and can target individuals without any awareness by the victim. Especially if they start on one at birth.

It is official, we Cascadians wear fleece to the opera. This is hikey bikey land, and that includes the sickos too.

More bookmarking and the usual extra noise in my earmuffs as I click on the mouse. Enough.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Public Meetings

It has been at least six years since I went to a public meeting. It was tied to the training grant groveling so I felt obliged to go through the impending ordeal such events have become. Also noted was that it pre-empted attending yoga, conflicting at the very same time. For the entire meeting I had this dude in front of me that kept slumping leftward to block my view of the speaker, incrementally and progressively for the 1.5 hours of the meeting. And I thought I had it bad in the cinema attending days when this same bullshit would erupt, the person in front having an unerring knack in obstructing my view. This dude could see the speaker perfectly, and yet he insisted on moving leftward the entire time I was there. That wasn't the worst of it though, as a smell of alcohol on someone's breath kept getting jammed up my nose. It wasn't the woman beside me, coming in at the last minute and exchanging seats with a lean-forward dude. She brought a scarf that was identical in color to the speaker's top, a turquoise, and made sure I saw it my putting it into my peripherial vision later in the meeting. And now that same acetone like alcohol breath smell is getting jammed up my nose for the rest of the afternoon while back at my place. This is not new, just more blatant that the usual bullshit. It is fucking tiresome to be exposed to smells that don't arise from one's environment.

I did my cleaning job at the car dealership tonight, and most everything went OK, but owing to some blatant Fuckwit games, a mechanic who stayed behind to do work, (or make accompanying noise as I see it), then set off the alarm system that I had set. As we are getting ready to leave, I ask him if he has the passcodes to set the alarms, and then he tells me his plan is to leave with us. Like WTF; his departure hinges on us and he doesn't tell us that until asked at the last minute. How did he know if we were to be working for an hour or four hours? Then I set the alarm on the back end, while he is in the front end, and then he takes off to switch the air compressor off he says, and lo, if he didn't set the alarm off somehow. To make a long story short, the alarm setting got totally fucked up, and it seemed that this dumbshitting around was to have me stay in the areas where I had cleaned with my coat on and use the telephone, (an instrument of localized electromagnetic disturbance) to deal with the alarm company. And as it "so happened", I didn't have the passcode id that they were looking for and it was a total fuckup. Somewhere in all of that the mechanic disappeared, the sole cause of the problem because he didn't communicate his actions in advance when they were dependent upon ours.

Anyhow, it puts yet another adverse experience on the Fuckover tally board, and I have had enough of this shit, and had plenty before they trashed my existence in this overt harassment phase, never mind the continual scripted litany of disaster I get treated to. And as regular readers know, the adversity extends to taking a crap, a 90% chance event of something or many things going wrong. And that too was scripted in tonight, all to service the sicko's brown color problem they have created for themselves. Who would of thunk it; a billion dollar budgeted organization surrepticiously surveilling, stalking and interfering with innocent citizens over the color brown, and by extension, the body parts of that color? Yet another bizarre tale that ranks on the stupid scale with their preoccupation with crumbs and planting them all around my toast, and even teleport them in right in front of me should whatever perverse "need" arise.

And another round of sirens accompanied the above write up, so no doubt recounting events in a journal contributes to whatever the perp's fucking games are. One cannot rest for a second, lest it be a potential jerkaround moment. They noisestalk me anytime I notice a plasma or maser beam flitting by, and it seems that they cannot yet take over all my vision, or at least, not outside. When heading to the car dealership cleaning job tonight, as soon as I put on my toque a pressure came on my head, which suggests that it was the assholes at work, because the hat never did this before. I call it mental takeover, and I suspect that they cannot fuck with me as much as they want to when I am outside, hence the parade of gangstalking dipshits and freaks at every turn when out in public.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Noise Barrages

It isn't worth answering the phone these days as intensified noise campaigns erupt immediately afterward and run for some 50 minutes for far. And the said phone call from my perp-abetting brother was interupted by a sudden need to pee. So the sequence of fuckery was 1.5 hours of web surfing time, the phone call related to something he claims he cannot find on the internet about local incentives to scrap older vehicles, then the sudden "need" to pee breaking the phone call off, then the noise campaign started. After finishing peeing, I printed off a five page application form for him, replete with the printer doing never-before desk and LCD monitor shaking, even in vertical directions, accompanying door slamming, then the backup beepers started, overhead faint rumbling noise started up, faked outside heavy duty vehicles and the rest of the outside noise fuckery/din that immediately stops when I go to the window to look outside for the putative causes. There are none for the most part and then the noise subsides. And it should be noted that the door slamming in the hallway in this building is some trick when all doors have hydraulic hinges on them; it can't be done if one tried, and yet it erupts suddenly with at least a half dozen in a couple of minutes. Time to dump this websurfing habit it would seem as that is the big driver of the entire run of bullshit that followed.

The sickos had me rage-fied at breakfast again; faked touchings, food flying out of my mouth and into the coffee grounds in the coffee pot immediately before the hot water was added. I have never seen food flying so fast, accurately and with such a trajectory before, another new extra-conventional gravitic fuckery advance to which I am now apprised of. And also, I was treated to another new jerkaround when eating a portion of chocolate this morning. I put the remaining piece entirely into my mouth, and as I pulled my had away, an 1/8" size chocolate crumb arrived in my fingers as if it were a residual piece that somehow broke off. It didn't happen at my mouth, and it only afterward, hence a new crumb teleportation fuckery stunt. A busy morning, all these new heightened jerkarounds, as well as more text jumping all by itself while I am typing this out. Beserk times of late, and this week has been particulary ugly, and this is only day 3 so far, counting from Monday.

And who was the Anonymous commenter who suggested the incessant toilet blocking games were somehow "natural". There hasn't been a natural event in my life for over six years, and with the perp's insane preoccupation with all things brown, including chasing me with septic services trucks, how is it that you can come to that deduction? Another provocateur it would seem; read this posting and tell me the same thing again. It was the opening sabotage act in 04-2002, blocking my toilet with a balloon and forcing me to get a plumber's snake to get rid of the blockage, and they haven't let up ever since. Funny how all these coincidences keep happening to me.

More noise this afternoon, the steady din of faux jackhammers in the parkade of the opposite residential tower. As usual, there are no signs of compressors outside, removal of broken up concrete or any other support vehicles or activity. Funny how the jackhammer noise is timed for big jerkaround days.

I just had my tea break, with chocolate, and as always, eating brown colored food is of intense interest to the perps with coordinated noise while eating it, and then drinking tea which would move it down my throat and change the brown coloration scene in my mouth. And I got the crumb games again, some of them just "flying in", as in teleported as they don't fall from anywhere or have a conventional trajectory. The perps have been having a big crumb inundation jerkaround these past three days, they are very cranked up about them, and typically will direct my vision to nearby objects that look like crumbs but aren't, say, a feature of the wood of the table I am eating at. Post crumb pickup or identification, they will also direct me to look at their coffee grounds they add in nearby, extra large water droplets and masses of small bubbles from dishwashing. Another crumb fucking variation that has recently erupted is to have light colored crumbs arranged, and then have a light colored facsimilie nearby to direct me to when dealing with the real crumb. More elaborate fuck games with crumbs are at breakfast with the one slice of bread I have; first comes a "shift" of very small brown crumbs, then larger darker brown ones, and then light colored crumbs. Invariably each crumb type is clustered together and separable from other crumb types on the dinner plate. It would be hilarious if one wasn't in this situation of being life-raped and under intense scrutiny down to one's last thought.

And I found another TI who has an experience of having an arranged existence, including an ex-wife who was part of the scam. He runs the site called Brussell Sprout, and relates a very similar tale to that of mine including one specific detail; women who drop out of his life for no explicable reason. Bingo, we have corroboration of the same fucking jerkaround. How could that possibly be except by design? For the record, I have had some males do the same thing, suddenly turn on me for some curious reason they didn't wish to divulge.

My in-town brother arrived just after lunch to get his print-outs, featuring his shit-brown coat and then standing in front of the window engaging in banter. This begat the backlit games that cast his coat as seeming deep black shadows, and he moved a little bit to keep the brown to black coloration variance games going. He also brought me chocolate for no reason, a Ritter bar in a green plastic wrapper that was duly consumed after lunch. It would seem that his phone calls were accurately timed for when I had a break in the lunch and dishes action so I could answer it, as a warm up to answering the door when he came a few minutes later, "happening" to be in the neighborhood. He parked his new used white tradesvan in view of my apartment window so we could both see it from there at the same time. I have remarked in the past that the perps like me to see the same objects and persons through varying kinds of glass, more than one pane of glass, and of course directly. The sliding door window glass panes have a layer of transparent plastic in them to hold the entire thing together to prevent shards from flying in the event of a breakage, just as car windsheilds do. For whatever reason this is of extreme interest to the sickos for which I don't give a shit. Just leave me alone and stay the fuck out of my life.

And while on the topic of TI family situations and the nascent beginings of harassment, orchestration and other abuse, Rachael O. also put up a good posting today. She has the benefit if having her harassment validated every so often with some kind of reference to her existence. As a rule, I don't get these, but it is interesting to know that the TI abuse scenario begins young. I suspect this is likely more the case than not, and only when do they want some intensfied research do they go overt and put on the noticeable gangstalking and abuse. I don't know why they decide on overt abuse, and it must be on an individual basis.

Another vignette that Rachael O. mentions has played out in my life; being present, or proximate, to overhear others talking about you. It is almost a universal TI Fuckover experience, though I suppose this can happen to anyone, or is it that I don't have an experience with normal, when this would happen. Anyhow, I don't know what the deal is, as the perps like to set this up, and workplace mobbing extensively engages in this trend as well. As I read about it, workplace mobbing is more about character assassinations that are meant to be overheard, same thing as whisper campaigns.

Rachael O. also mentions mold damage to her lungs, which is interesting. Back in the pre-overt harassment days when I lived in Seattle, I would see this woman named Ms. L in a top floor apartment, and she had mold in her apartment, and would never get her act together and get it dealt with. When I came I would buzz her on the intercom, and she would let me into the building. When I got to the top floor I could smell the mold right away from the open elevator doors as Ms. L had opened her door by then and left if for me to walk through while she was sitting on her bed watching TV. She was obviously a planted operative, and did have a rather mysterious life in that she didn't work, yet had all the comforts as well as a place in New York City. I met her at an Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) conference in early 2001, and for 10 months we were good pals, albeit with an undercurrent of guardedness that didn't dissipate. When the harassment erupted in 2002 she bailed on me, having gone to NYC then, and that was the last of her. The perps tell me she was a morphed (shape shifted) version of Ms. C who then came back into my life about then, though I have no idea if this is true, especially when they are some 60 lb different. For a month or so I had two girlfriends, an overlap, and recall that there was some uncharacteristic amusement from those in my social circle at the time after explaining this situation in response to my boss asking me about my girlfriends. It is all conjecture, and of course a fertile ground for the perps to play mind-fuck games that are totally unprovable.

A bumper crop of new TI sites today; here is Gangstalking Journal, about the most polished and reasoned description I have read. The story is fascinating, if not disconcerting as to the degree of mind fuck games that her seeming friends put her through while she was drugged. The sensation of "everyone has gone weird" is not new to this TI, though I haven't dealt with any doping to my knowledge.

i was allowed to be more collected at my cleaning job tonight, and not be sabotaged with the forced "forgets" I was getting hammered with last night. There were more plastic bag games; I packed a box of them with me to load quantities into the bottom of the garbage bags as a supply for new ones. One garbage can had some mysterious brown fluid in the bottom that somehow bypassed the stretched plastic liner. I reckon it was all about the brown games, and having me clean a black plastic trash can with a white paper towel of some mysterious brown liquid was yet another test of colors and substances. The fluid had been there for two weeks and then more of it "arrived", and so I felt obliged to clean it up (read, mindfucked to continue the next stage of the brown color/plastic bag/plastic trash can interaction games).

And the perps having me working at a car dealership gives them the means to display varyin car parts, many of them new in brown cardboard boxes or wrapping. Also, it seems that used parts are getting their due as well; I couldn't say if it is normal for a car dealership to have so many used parts around, but I don't fret about it, as the degree of orchestration is over the top wherever I go. Though, I will say that the fuckery level is a little diminished tonight. I got constant faked water noise of seeming neighbors for the entire time I was eating chocolate with my tea tonight, and this degree of noisestalking precisely to my actions is getting more obvious. We are long past plausible cover stories these days.

On my way out the door tonight I got a stalling gangstalking biddy at the front door with red leather gloves, and lo, once I got past here there were a succession of at least five more gangstalkers with some article of same crimson red clothing; hats, jackets, backpacks; just the usual color coordinated fuckery. On the way back from the car dealership cleaning job I got an oncoming ambulatory female gangstalker some 60' ahead twirling a pink scarf around her arm, making out that this was some idle stunt she does. While not bizarre, I consider it most odd as no one wants to invite comparison to be borderline nuts if they aren't. As usual, I got the blank lookaway countenance when this person was closer, a very typical pose for the fuckers who do strange things on-street.

More bookmarked link troving tonight with the earmuffs on the the din in them; ringing, crackling, pinging and a distant radio voice is my tormentor's notion of hearing protection. Onto a new reality, and calling this done.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Chocolate Digestion Doings

I am getting my high noisestalking activity right about now, this shortly after having tea and chocolate. Both are of intense interest, the latter being a brown colored food item, and that is a big deal for my tormentors. But even the tea is of interest, especially when it is steeping, that slow graduated change in color to mid green-brown color in a glass teapot must be of what is so fascinating for them. Any kind of color change in fact, from changing into clothes, to peeing, flushing pee, and of course the panalopy of choreographed vehicle placements around me, stationary and mobile and their combinations. There was a tea festival in town last weekend, and I was duly kept uninformed of it. My mother went to it and had some green teas, including matcha, the Japanese drink with the tea leaves ground into a paste and drunk as a slurry. Expensive though, $25 for 4 oz. at the supermarket.

I am getting intense planted ideations today of a cessation of hostilities come Feb. 27, next Friday, the time of a doctor's appointment. The have been telling me for years, at least three, that the high school that I pass on my 30 min. walk to the doctor's office will be the site of some kind of semi-public event for which I would be the honored guest. No thanks, put the cash in my bank account and fuck off; I don't need any more publicity in this town than I already have, and it must be considerable for all the people I don't know who interact somewhat strangely, probably some 20% of the entire ambulatory population, aka, gangstalkers. The remainder are reasonably normal, but also, one never knows when a normal interaction then takes a sudden turn like yesterday at the car dealership where I do an hour's work each day, 6x per week. The regular black fleece jacketed dude in Service is nominally friendly, a faint hello if I see him when he is finishing up his job when I arrive after closing. But yesterday, he walks past me pretending I am not there, not even looking at me. Then he arranges himself again in my proximity, keeping his head down. There is something about unreturned greetings or salutations that the perps find so utterly fascinating. A woman at yoga was the same; friendly for months, and then at the end of one class she is walking ahead of me by 8' outside on the sidewalk, and then she does a 180 degree turn and walks toward me, looking straight ahead, pretending that it isn't happening. Most people would explain themselves, but obviously we are way past that bullshit on this interminable life-rape gig.

So no, if given the freedom of my own thoughts there will be no cessation of hostilities next week on Feb. 27th, and it will unfold something like this; I will have "forgotten" all about this bullshit ideations all day, walk past the high school and not be reminded in any way, onto the doctor's office, probably with extra delays in the appointment area, and then about halfway through the appointment the perps will suddenly plant the ideation of cessation of hostilities again, and as soon as I reject the thought as spurious and planted, a noise will go off. The doctor will suddenly clear his throat, someone will yell outside and the rest of the noisestalking bullshit that erupts as these designed moments. By then, they will have been hammering on this ideation for over six weeks, and for them, that is a big deal creating such a build up to have the entire spectacle fizzle out as if nothing happened, which is what I predict. I have been through over 15 such events before and have correctly determined the outcome each time; there are too many loose ends, and they never give up. End of tune, and hopefully the last time I mention this..

The reality is that they are jerking me around will everything else to build up the suspense; no job looking, resume submission, no training grant research and other things I am to be doing has "happened" since the New Year. And I am getting increasingly pissed off that all of these need to be done and I am not allowed to do this in support of some gigantic bullshit stunt. Now you know, it is most strange to not be one's self for no discernable organic reason.

There was plenty of annoyance and a few rage-ifications going on earlier this morning when making breakfast; the big event turned out to be a two-fer, two food items being started or finished at the same juncture and with their packaging remnants placed together in the garbage. And exciting moment for some assholes, but not for me. And the excitement was all over brown colored food; a new jar of peanut butter had to be stirred up to fold the oil into the nut butter, and a new loaf of gluten free bread was begun. And it "so happens" that the loaf end is much browner than the bread, and that the bread end must retain some additional color energies from this that the perps cannot yet detect from me in their remote energetics assay games. Hence the many slices that are tapered, extra thick or thin, or hollowed out. The perps want to increase the variance of the thicknesses, have the peanut butter equally viewable from each side of the bread through the extra large holes, or seek certain energetic nuances across the slice when it has non-parallel sides. Again, I get no interest from this, but am only reporting as to how fucking nuts they are, and this is closing on seven years of it. They won't come out of the closet, and will still keep up this beserk quest of nonconsensual human experimentation by remote methods.

Other additional perp games this morning were moving the jar of peanut butter by itself; laterally by 1/4", and then spinning it about the same. There was no applied pressure at the time, and these remotely applied movements were meant to be noticed as such. Just another day in captivity. I wonder if the recent peanut butter manufacturing woes and product recalls have anything to do with the perp's interest in this substance, color, oil content etc. Who knows, and I will be the last one with any information. The perps are also obsessed with oils in one's body and brain, and I suspect that some downtime from having it availible might be the covert plan behind it. Just speculations though, even if this is a ringside seat at the World Zoo.

The Chicken Run is done, the intensified gangstalk gauntlet to the supermarket to get hot cooked chicken. This is always of significant interest to the assholes and today was no exception. They even "readied" me with orange dressed gangstalkers in the same hue as the paprika on the chicken. They put on some freaks of the Unfavored demographic groups, hoodie and shades wearing shiftless dudes, skinheaded males, strange hats, large hats, redheads in shocking orange artificial colored hair to match the paprika it would seem on my way back, and four loitering Asians in the lobby and one negro at the checkout. Though to be fair, most gangstalkers were not freaks, but the usual placement behind vehicles, building corners, the arm flinging walk as well as the fast overexaggerated walk were the usual tells.

The routine with the Chicken Run is that I take the skin off the bird, eat some meat off the carcass and then put it away in the fridge for later inclusion in the tortillas, the only meal they allow me to make, and have also fucked with me so I "don't mind" this never-before sameness of meal choice (kunch and dinner). The assholes like me to eat the meat when it is hot and I have just taken it home likely because a minimum of cutlery is involved and that the meat hasn't sat on a plate or tortill in the frypan. Again, I make these observations from what has been so incredibly consistent. And it used to be that when the skin was removed from the meat they would jerk me around with the process all to get me rage-ified. Then for the last two years the assholes backed off, and it was a relatively peaceable process. Until today, they then decided to go beserk and have the chicken fall apart, they pulled meat out of my mouth and had it fall back on the cutting board 3x, meat would fall off "by itself", and a host of other extra-conventional gravitic fuckery to get my rage-ified. I haven't had a Chicken Run feeding quite so abusively scripted like this for at least two years, but they decided to at least get me going enough to render me to be intensely pissed off.

And as part of it, they added in plasma and maser games to distract my focus, orange glowing plasma for more color reference purposes, and also ensured that many pieces flipped off the board, and ensured the entire chicken "broke" into two halves before I got it out of the bag, and also had my usual and effective measures to extricate were foiled, and had my manually pull it from the bag. Normally, they have me pull it out with a fork, but that wasn't allowed. So... back to the grim Fuckover days of years past; some process, same stunts, and same outcome. Sounds like business as usual as I have come to know it.

And I suppose they will be all over me when I head out to the cleaning job at a nearby car dealership in some 20 minutes. They are laying on more cell phone gangstalker Fuckwits as well, no matter how absurd the scenario is, they like to ensure that I have some electromagnetic activity around me, especially the portable kind.

I got more imposed hassle when I got back from the cleaning job and was making tea, to have with chocolate. It is a high harassment moment, making tea and eating chocolate. Too bad I couldn't defer it, but instead, this nonsensical "need" comes over, and then it hassle time again.

And I did have my freakshow consort with me when out on the street, transiting to the cleaning job; the green haired mohawk haircut dude crossed the street to stand at the same intersection as me, going the opposite direction, and after crossing and with the No Walk pedestrian signal, he runs across the street to where I had just walked, yelling and shouting at no one, and then makes a 90 degree turn in front of me, still on the asphalt road surface and then runs across the street ahead of me. Freaking bizarre to say the least, doubling back for no reason after first waiting on the sidewalk. So.. with that freakshow ahead of me, I "chose" an alternate route, and of course I had my gangstalkers out for their strolls in red clothing.

And I got jerked around tonight to rage-ification levels, being fucked with as if I "forgot" in returning to my regular section to be cleaning at the car dealership. There were at least a half dozen forced "forgets", and I know I don't forget that kind of stuff, not even after the second time. I had four days off from my regular section and the fuckers then go into overdrive jerking me around. The usual; pulling things from my grasp, getting the order of tasks wrong when I have been doing it for over two months, then pulling some of the supplies out of my cleaning tray that I normally use changing up the routine, applying the wrong cleaning solution and the like. Fucking beserk the perps are today, and I don't have any basis to indicate they are backing off.

Other excitement factors for them today might be that I am wearing the green shirt that got laundered with yesterday's soaking towels from mopping the fucking toilet overflow games yesterday. I also started a new shaving blade and resumed a chest shave after not doing it yesterday. Or more likely, it is the combination that is driving the perps into beserk mode, and don't ask me to explain why as I don't know. Little things make huge differences for the assholes, and there is no sign of relenting any like they suggested they would be doing last week.

Anyhow, it is time to put this fugly day behind me, and ponder what nightime awakeness games they are going to pull tonight, and the dream invasion crap that they are also up to.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Make It Obvious

Like, never before. It is a Monday, and is always scripted to be high fuckery as well as the stunts when taking a crap, the perps' brown color obsession manifested in another form. This time, it was cleared, flushed through OK, and then when two pieces of toilet paper were added, why, the whole thing backed up and over the top. As if the toilet paper did this, as in fucking obvious remote manipulations again, the third such event in the past four weeks. They cannot get enough of toilet games, and it would seem that the timing was important too, following a short session on this PC after attending to a sudden email burst of spam and TI correspondence. And before the short session, it was tea and chocolate, possibly timed for some kind of temporal color reference as well.

I stayed at the perp-abetting parent's place last night, and was treated to many hours of sleeplessness, possibly with the notion that it wasn't as bad as the planted notions it was made out to be. The usual meat aerial games, and who knows what the dream content was as I don't recall any. Other morningtime action was to drive my mother to the Ford dealership to get her Escape fixed for its front passenger side seatbelt, the parking brake shroud slipping in front of the release button and a sticky accelerator. I had the usual intense consort of vehicles arranged around me, whites with silver greys, mid greys and black colored vehicles with later inserts of reds, deep greens and the odd light metallic brown colored vehicle. It was an in-town trip, so I reckon likely some 600 vehicles by the time we took the yellow Prius taxi to downtown afterward. I see that the Ford dealership got a huge renovation and facelift, and I wonder if they could thank me for that, as my visits there go back at least three years. And the perps always pay up big when it comes to rewarding organizations IMHO.

And of course there was the usual Unfavored demographic groups specimens in the gangstalking crowd, although a fairly light continget for the most part. One skinheaded male kept getting featured in different poses inside the glassed in office; by himself, then with other males crowded around him with just a partial sliver of his smooth head revealed, and then again outside the office walking past. Then later, they put on a negro male, also skinheaded, perhaps in some kind of comparison test. They put on a negro male yesterday when I was invited to get my paycheck at a local coffee shop on the corner where a significant parade of ambulatory Unfavored freaks was arranged while I was looking out from my seat. This is third such "payday", and all the more contrived when he could of paid me Feb. 14 evening, or else waited until today. As there is no cleaning job on Sundays, it was plain that this was another Freakshow for me to witness. If you are new here, and are wondering why the reference of the Unfavored demographic groups comes up, read the posting at the preceding link. And if you are wondering about the history of the perp's brown color obsession and the fuckery that it supports, read this posting on their obsessions.

Yesterday's "payday" at the cafe, the perps put on the ridiculous "security" dudes again, one in yellow and the other in black, just "happening" to engage in a long chat on the street corner on public property and not the location they might have been hired to oversee. As the yellow dressed one did this same routine at the same location in the same payday circumstances as last time, I was not too surprised to see this act run again, just with more help from a MIB pal. The modern MIB's in my circumstances wear black fleece and also prefer the black toques as well. None of the formal suits or bowler hats in this hikey-bikey town. I suspect the perps prefer fleece jackets for some malevolent remote energetics assay reason as there has been such an increase of garments using this fiber, even if it is ill-suited for this windier location.

The retrieval and folding of the towels from the laundry today, post toilet overflow, also brought on more games; noisestalking, then something jabbing in the right foot arch and sudden mild knee pain. Their folding and putting away also begat extra adversity in folding, the trademark flipped hems are almost a 100% event nowadays. Never did I have this degree of annoyances before the assholes struck to make themselves apparent in 2002. And one of the first things they did in the form of sabotage was plug my toilet with a balloon placed in while it was flushed, the opening salvo of toilet games that have "happened" ever since. It is their signature stunt, fucking with shit in all its manifestations. The stories one reads in the news related to this topic just might have a less conventional origin than what it seems. Just my conspiratorial bias of course, but one shaped by experiences of abnormal levels of coincidences. They couldn't mindfuck me for detecting abnormally frequent events until late 2007 early 2008, and so far, they don't seem to fuck with this capability save when they want me not to know in advance of a specific stunt.

And they have also pulled a few other rage-ification stunts today, not in keeping with a seeming relaxation of this level of harassment of last week. They had toned it down until today, being a high harassment post-stayover at the perp abetting parent's place Monday.

As usual, there was the parental games involving the TV watching; my father puts on his agitated act, presumably "from" dementia, but times it for when favorite perp themes are mentioned (war, insurrection, poverty, demise), crossing immediately before or after the remote control (infrared beam) is used, or else when a rare humorous event occurs. And he is even smiling in response to the TV content if of the latter category, blowing his cover even, as he presents himself as to not understand more than a spoken word or two in sequences and as emotionally blank. His endless skulking games were also scripted, hanging around behind a wall to the hallway, and then presenting only his nose and partial face to be seen. This is in keeping with the perps's games of partial presentation of Unfavored personnel, much like the clustering around the skinheaded male mentioned above at the Ford dealership.

A designed mix-up it would seem between the boss man and me at the car dealership cleaning job tonight. He said he wanted me to continue to do his normal area, Sales, while he would cover my normal area, Service and Parts. As it "so happened", he got mixed up and did part of Sales, the garbage bags in all the offices save three I had done already, and then I ended up doing mopping at the Service area. This is consistent with the perp's preoccupation with plastics and their seeming energetic interactions with other substances, objects and persons. As the color of everything is also so important to the perps, it didn't surprise me that I was using the blue mop to do the brown floor when I normally have used the red mop for the last three months. This could get very confusing, and I suspect that it was all arranged so we were doing a blend of each other's normal turf until last week when I did his area because he had a cold. Most often, the perps will start with the most significant change and then introduce partial changes later, decrementing the complexity of whatever the fuck they are harassing me over.

But I wasn't done with the boss man at work, in another "so happened", as he showed up at the same supermarket as I stopped by on the way back, in the next checkout, and then getting ahead of me to be outside in the parking lot when I departed the store. This is the identical set up as two weeks ago; multiple exposures in the same lighting and building locations as well as outside, and even the same checkouts for each of us.

And while in the checkout the perps put on a "skinhead sandwich"; totally shiny bald males ahead and one directly behind. There were two intervening blonde women between me and the skinhead male ahead, and I suppose as all things seem connected to the perps, even if disparate to the victim and anyone else not in the know, it was an occasion to have the skinheads represented at the event of a financial transaction. Last week it was males in red coats, and there have been other examples in past blog postings. Sometime soon I expect a "negro sandwich" at the checkout. And I suppose it was never enough to have had two negroes working for me in 1998 through 1999 as well as an E. Indian, all on good terms, because why not screw the victim more with insane numbers of iterations of the Unfavored specimens for 10 more years?

To the perps, abuse is one of those open ended affairs, not unlike Guantanamo Bay. I suspect the nefarious doings there have more to do with the perp objectives in all their color combinations and permutations, that being skin, clothing, bedding, cell, towels and whatever else that is in their environment, brutal as it is. In the same vein, I have a notion that the so called "rendition" tortures were more important for the location at 35,000' and applying duress there, for whatever the perps get out it. Other TI's have been extensively gangstalked by airline personnel, and it does suggest a certain objective that is related to the Earth itself, and it is all the more attainable if the victim is under duress. I know of no deep underground tortures, say a half mile deep or more, but as I am kept relatively clueless as to what is going on, I would not be surprised if this didn't occur. Some of the leading "consciousness thinkers" suggest that the Earth, has intrinsic energies itself. It is clear to me that inanimate objects are also of interest to the perps, and if consciousness has energetic properties, and inanimate objects do too, then it is logical that the Earth itself also has certain energetic consciousness properties. I am speculating here, and if you don't buy into all that I understand.

In keeping with the extra intense Mondays, especially when they have fucked me out of showering this morning, and cleaning my hair after the cleanup from the shit stunts mentioned above, it wasn't too surprising that they got me fully rage-ified tonight while making tea and especially with chocolate in my mouth in keeping with the perp's brown color obsessions. Not to mention their profound interest in my mouth contents, possibly as it is so close to the brain where they like to wreak havoc, and create torments and then script rage "reactions" to them. Just more of the imposed beserkness that they see fit to put me through, and they haven't laid on the "complaining neighbors" games like at two former residence locations.

A final wrap-up; thankfully the intensity of the fuckery settled down while doing a marathon bookmarking session of interesting music albums from this list of lists. The usual crackling and din in the earmuffs with the odd siren and siren variants getting through have been accompanying me. Naturally, a crackling noise will erupt at the instant of the mouseclick to bookmark, or like timing to every last dot and comma that I am manipulating in Windows select, copy and paste efforts to ensure a readable bookmark when viewed in the Bookmark lists. Exciting stuff, I know. Other accompaniment has been to alter the colors of lines on the LCD display, adding greens, purples or the like to the edges, same as earlier when they were cranking me up by augmenting the edges of the white dinner plate with purples and yellows, a 1/8" band exactly following the edge of the plate as if illuminated from some other worldly source. Now that they have direct access to all my visual constructs in my visual cortex, they can tweak and fuck with any aspect of any object, in motion and in real time. This has been the nature of the impositional fuckery of late.