Back to Surreality

1610h
A morning spent outside at my perp abetting parents' place; digging over the compost, always a perp attraction of the first order. There are two compost bins (of plastic) and one pile that I created, added a composting accelerant and covered it over with black plastic about 5 weeks ago. It was the latter pile that I dug over and relocated as a new raised bed has to be built this year. I did a 4'x4' one last year, this one is to be 4'x8'. So... all that compost shovelling and then adding some in from one bin to see if its success could be replicated in the pile I had moved. My mother also did some mixing between the bins as well. I don't know what the perps interest is in compost, but it would seem that they have been working on it since 2000 when the on/off girlfriend, Ms. C. of the story, took her Master Composter's course at a local community college. She was an earth mother/gardener type, so it seemed fitting at the time. Little did I know that it seemed to be part of a larger plan, but then again, I had no idea I was so important to so many with such abusive methods with so little apparent presence. Something like that.

Just to think; all this over the fact that they just might have been laying on the abuse some 50 years ago when aged 2 to 5 and couldn't prevent subconscious traumatization associations, and are still attempting to determine thses neural energetic signatures because it represents a problem for further mind fuckery.

I actually have a little bit of percieved freedom while in my parents' backyard; even my obviously gangstalking father is away at his supposed adult day care. The reminders are the coincident noises that are timed to my shovelling, touching the plastic cover, picking up the tools or other objects (often plastics), and other "high moments" for the shadow abusers/clowns.

Then when I drive down the bus stop with my mother, why, all the vehicular traffic patterns and formations are in place, and too, street works. This time it was an asphalt paving job at an interesection, and I had to wait for the inevitable lines of color coordinated traffic that strangely aggregated in a residential area at 1300h. Regular readers and most TI's will know that the perps have a fixation about asphalt and petroleum products, and it seems this is exceedingly important that I get exposure to new and old surfaces, usually in proximity to each other. And too, it was another freakshow on the bus today, and some 40 passengers when I would expect about 10 to 15 at that time of week day, Mondays in particular. I had my Unfavored ones; red-hair, geriatrics, strange dudes, obesers and they did like to wear red today. At least four "reds" clustered around the driver wearing red, and then came the foxy Asian babe wearing tight white shorts, knee high stockings, a red top with a white vest over top, lovely big eyes and she even shot me a look before boarding the bus. (How did she pick me out, or more like why; she was 25 and I am almost 55.) I suppose she was the redemptive one, a Favored babe in Unfavored colors. I am also getting plenty of mid tone blue gangstalkers of late, ones who are wearing a similar thin blue fleece jacket like my own, as it is the current jacket that I am wearing on these fabulous sunny days we are now having.

I finally sucumbed to the mind-fuck games and ordered two tan through shirts; the perps have me pumped up on getting a summer job outside, and this riff of exuberance extended to making the online purchase. And too, they wouldn't let me do anything else; I wanted to read the online news, and they kept scrambling my attention so I couldn't read. Another $100 in the hole, and I didn't need it. Fucking tiresome, not to mention that any employment initiatives have been a big zero so far. And of course the employment activity has to be moderated by keeping this disability bullshit going, though I suspect it may run its course this year. And another stunt that I expect would be that they would want me to pay it back if I am too able bodied. This intense and all encompassing netherworld that I live in is nothing but constant perversity and abusive psychopathy (theirs).

[Update; the transaction "failed" somehow as no confirmation message was recieved as indicated]. Could this be a online equivalent to debit card transactions at the checkouts also "failing" and forcing a re-entry? Funny how it happens more often than it did pre-overt harassment, 04-2002.

2320h
An evening of playing PC builder again, something the perps get endless benefit from, all the Windows select, copy/cut, and paste action, not to mention using the search as an alternative to getting the link. I got mind-fucked into "thinking" I hadn't started a blog posting today, and lo, at the last minute I happen to notice that this was begun, and I haven't divulged today's oddities, freaks, and other strange occurences. Even the one hour part time cleaning job at the car dealership brings on all sorts of subtle and not so subtle feints. Here it is too late to get into a serious posting.

And too, I see anonymous has a number of interesting comments which I decided to publish as there isn't the time to write up responses tonight. All good comments, and nothing is inferred by my not replying to them; hopefully tomorrow I can peruse and respond.