Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Visual Color Test as Dream Content

True to prediction, it was at least 1.5 hours before I was allowed to get to sleep last night, and with plenty of noise from outside. Those 0100h buses, going by the noise at least, just aren't on the published schedule. Ditto for the Monday night hotrod noise, one after the other, and only in this town it seems. That all gets "managed" by having me plug my ears, and then while prone, a forced head flip to the other side of my head, only to repeat and an flip back again in a minute or less often times. And this is identical to most Monday nights, along with more sleep perturbations and manipulations.

The perp delivered dream content was truly something they could deliver; I was in a testing lab and was being evaluated for my reactions to red and blue content, and an image transitioning from one color into the other. Given that I am constantly plagued with red plasma flashes in many forms all day long, who would be interested in taking their daytime testing games into one's dream state? Why the same assholes that can now stop my dreams from ending, as they now control the neural circuitry to defeat my auto-dream bailout capabilities, once the province in my control until mid-2008.

Then an early getup time with the noise of preceding heavy duty vehicles proceeding outside, which vaporized once I got up and looked for the vehicles. There weren't any, and it is way too early in this town for any kind of road traffic noise below on a secondary artery that becomes a residential street within a block. On with the noise show, as long as I am not looking for the source, and as always, it suddenly fades out when I am looking for its source.

The overhead tapping noise is getting more airtime of late, especially after 15 minutes of being in bed; it suddenly starts on certain planted thoughts and runs for 10 seconds or so, and is extremely annoying. As always, how can such a noise penetrate 12" of floor/ceiling and with all suites carpeted? Projected noise of some kind, not unlike delivering dreams, plasma beams, maser beams and the rest of the extra-conventional fuckery that passes for an average day of targeted abuse.

And even one's own knowledge of the most trivial order is usurped and derailed. While journalling in my paper journal, the pen ran out of ink, preceded by a page of thinned out ink color. Was I allowed to know the pen was running dry? No sir, not in Fuckworld, the 24x7 extra-conventional abuse to the level of one's neurons, every last one it seems.

My reading of Rachael O.'s duress in attempting to stay at an El Paso homeless shelter was a compelling read; I hope that she finds somewhere else to stay. And while reading her blog posting, a rainshower erupted outside, and then lunch beckoned with ongoing outside traffic noise that wasn't modified to reflect the wet road conditions. I don't why the perps time rain showers to my activities, but it seem that they do. They use these short rain showers as some kind of all over street cleaning I suspect. Street cleaning machines make all manner of odd appearence when outside, and that includes running them on Sundays in the daytime. I am begining to suspect the rain showers are getting more attention from the perps as there are so many of them, much like the ongoing interuptions to pee, often timed to web page changes, certain web pages, and certain categories of web searches, e.g. employment.

A strung-out day today with an early get-up time and then nothing going on, not even emails or nonharassment phone calls. The perps like this stasis of extending do nothing, boredom or whatever one might call it. They have arranged some work days to be very nonproductive in the past, usually a five or more days in succession.

As always, a "whim" is planted, and I have something useful to read online, and am allowed to do so. The perps finally let me read about data modelling briefly, the first work related contact with this subject matter in over 7 years. It seems there is still a long row to hoe until I am allowed the relative freedom of the covert harassment days, per-2002. I will be picking daffodil bulbs again this summer I suspect.

There is something strange going on at the part time cleaning job at the car dealership; its as if a time warp of a kind has been introduced. The same job takes me 45 to 50 minutes now when it took 1hr, 15min. and there isn't a significant difference to explain how this "efficiency improvement" has occured. I suspect there has been some games with the time, watches and the interaction to jimmy this whole adventure from the start. I couldn't figure out then, in Dec. 2008, why it took so long, and although I have shaved down a few things per communication with the boss man, I still cannot account for nearly 30 minutes difference. It is all too strange, never mind the flock of dudes streaming toward me tonight when I finished. At least 40 of them in a block at 1830h, nearly all singly. And at the entrance to the LD store tonight it was the brown dressed Caucasian loitering outside, then entering, followed by the brown skinned dude on the cell phone loitering at the entrance and effectively blocking it. He was wearing an identical black toque as I was, and is the second such loitering Fuckwit who has been doing this in the past months.

And when beginning tonight's cleaning job there was a lingering customer, and it "happened" to my my old GP doctor, the asshole that dumped me as a patient. He played the "complicated condition" card, and I told him it wasn't complicated at all, but he jerked me around as part of the sayonara. Considering how little I see a GP, this was deliberately provocative, getting me pissed off as part of the process and laying on some bullshit from a quarter that was unexpected. Just another one of those "coincidences". Recall in yesterday's blog that the negro receptionist was standing at the front door of the car dealership and then managed to be walking ahead of me when I departed.

And the unabashed coincidence factor is up again; the woman by the Cadbury Creme Eggs where I stopped, also "happened" to arrived at the other only stop I made at the store, the facial cleansers. The Neutrogena Deep Clean is availible after a two month long stocking problem.

And I see more of the seeming staff at the car dealership are tag teaming the gangstalking; one, then when I move to another section, another Fuckwit happens to be arriving, and then a third and so it goes. And another "victim tour" for business owners; the owner of the car dealership is often on gangstalking duty, and has made many pointless visits to where I am working, more than one a evening. But tonight he was with another older man and they were chatting at the Mazda Miata outside the broom closet where I get the vacuum cleaner, gloves and key lanyard. I just thought it was the usual gangstalking operative posing as a buddy to give the owner a cover story to be hanging around, but it was more than that. The boss man later told me it was a business owner from across town, who is heavily into gasoline motor driven products. I have called these "business owner victim tours", and about every six months or so I get another business owner making his debut for the gangstalking cause. I don't know why the perps do this, but they do want me to know who it is, and that they own some business that I have contact with, or did formerly.

There are a few other odd things going on at the car dealership; or at least that is what it seems to me. A white GM Buick has been up and down on the hoist with no seeming work done for the last four days. The black Miata with the light brown rag top is now in its fourth week of being moved around in the service garage. A 6'x4' empty cardboard box is leaning up agains the wall for the past week, and has a green Land Rover insignia printed on it. Seemingly, the large box contained autobody parts. And there are more cardboard boxed autobody parts that keep getting moved around, and they are even painted in the colors of the vehicle, and not black primer painted parts for later painting. I suppose one day the perps will get their brown color and cardboard energetics figured out. And not to forget, this very LCD arrived in a brown cardboard box three months ago, and if it is what it seems, it still retains brown colored energies. Which is why so much plasma and other irradiative fuckery is coming off of it, even as I type.

More web browsing tonight, and downloading of a database software called MYSQL. My tormentors seem to be very interested in this for whatever reason, and scripted a bathroom break after five minutes of reading the online manual. They like to stage me in increments when it comes to new subjects, endeavors and venues.

Enough for today, and the ongoing knee torquing torture that they are putting on.

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