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.

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