A Rare Eight Hour Sleep

1310h
Normally my nightime sleep durations have been highly uncharacteristic; either too short, say, 5 to 6 hours or else too long, 10 to 11 hours. Normal is eight hours and that is what I had last night, albeit with some extra games. A first normal duration sleep since 2002; I have given up reading portent into such events, as this life is one of imposed FUD and fog. That's Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt, and cognitive fog and higly managed.

Though it did take 30 minutes of alternate side head flipping which nearly always followed placing my fingers in my ears to quell the outside noises. It is so predictable that it is routine. Two disparate events always happening in a prescribed sequence. I was also awakened at some point to hear the arranged noise, and had the usual meat aerial games as well. The final last dream of the morning was about data modelling, something I used to do as a job before the overt harassment onset, one day short of a seven year anniversary. I never have such technical dream content even in all the years I was partaking in data analysis and data modelling. Even the intense days of selecting a CASE tool (Computer Aided Software Engineering, data model and then generate the database from it) in an adverse organization did I ever have this content lapse into my dreams. Anyhow, those days are long gone, and if I am allowed the initiative, which suddenly "failed" since 12-2008, I might be getting on with retraining in the fall of this year. So far, I have been kept in a dysthymic lull, totally uncharacteristic and imposed, and haven't got on with this in over four months. I can get susidized training and yet haven't done a thing about it, apart from an initial fact finding mission.

2020h
An afternoon and evening with ongoing motorcycle noise from outside. I get one about every four minutes, and I loathe the sound of Harley Davidsons and like motorcycles. I stll haven't heard from Lynne Moss Sharman yet, she of ACHES, and who recalls her abuse at the hands of Dr. Cameron in Montreal in the mid-1950's. Her story did enlighten me as to why the perps are so relentlessly gangstalking me with men with bald shaved heads, and also those with tatoos (men or women). In the former case, the victims had their heads shaved to facilitate the mind mashing games of Dr. Cameron, besotted with his "psychic driving:, essentially trashing one's brain to attempt to force relearning new behaviors, and all he succeeded in doing was to traumatize them. In the second instance, they put lines on the bald heads; delineating a centerline, or whatever, similar to a tattoo. Why the sickos decided to trash all my recollections of that era, 1956 to 1959 I don't really know, but they must of known I was still subconsciously traumatized, as they were starting their brown color games as early a five years old. At it seems that this is a barrier for the assholes' continued life rape objectives, hence all these stunts intended to simulate the conditions of that time. And too, the black vehicle treatment as well is becoming more apparent.

2140h
More hoarse mufflered vehicles that somehow get through my earmuffs, about every three minutes. It is fucking tiresome to say the least. All the while I was reading doomer interviews (Doomer #1, Doomer #2) at Project Camelot, two of them in fall 2008, and both wrong (so far) as to their apocolyptic predictions. Another interview was interesting in that they talked about the war in Iraq being arranged, especially the looting of the Bagdad museum. No wonder Donald Rumsfeld thought it was so funny at a subsequent press conference).

I did send them an email about six months ago, offering to be an interview subject, but apart from an auto reply message, I never did hear from Project Camelot. There is plenty interesting to read about, though the above Doomer interviews (first two links) are not the best. Watching in video is also availible for some interviews. So if you are a TI and want to be interviewed, send them a email and perhaps the issue will become a priority for them (Project Camelot interviewers). I have mentioned them in past blogs in 2008.

I stopped in at the local supermarket after my part time work at the cleaning job at the nearby car dealership. And lo, if the boss man wasn't there too, batting nearly 1.000 now of "happening" to be there when I stop by. The big "need" tonight was chocolate again, and it is becoming a major piss off that the perps demand it so they can play noise games while I eat it. And of late. they have also been applying saliva leaks, where it just appears on my chin and didn't leak from my mouth. Extra noise accompanies saliva leak cleanups, so far at breakfast.

Another stunt, now the fourth time in two months, is for the assholes to put milk on my foot while eating cereal at breakfast. There is no way it could fall from the spoon as I am leaning over the table to prevent just that, and my feet aren't visible as they are under the cuffs of my pants while seated at the table. So for the fourth time, they slap some on my foot, always the left one so far, and chill it down a little to give it more sensation. I suppose the only sane logic is that they want to test it on my skin, but want/need to do this elsewhere than my face, picking the furthest most availible skin, even if it is a totally blatant teleportation stunt.

And I noticed when I entered the supermarket tonight I was getting the well known "banana stalking"; a ganstalker Fuckit standing in the store as I entered, holding a single banana at his side to emulate his dick. It was held just at his crotch level, and the symbolism was unmistakable. The Fuckwit later reprised his gangstalking at the checkout and then when in a van in motion when I had exited and was tranversing the parking lot, only 6' away. That he was a near skinhead was also interesting, as it seems to be that the perps are backing off on the bare bald look and giving their male Fuckwit gangstalkers a 1/4" of hair to tone down the reflectivity of their skinheads.

And when I set off to the part time job I had my own gangstalker at the ready at the elevators. The guy was in a brown sweater that was identical in color to the new floor mat of the elevator we took together. And he was waving a CD around, all very reflective and with light diffraction as well. Naturally he was hot on my tail when exiting the building, like most of my elevator gangstalking assholes. The floors of the elevators were done in a yellow tile about five months ago, and it looked real nice, but "for some reason" they decided to cover one up completely with a mid-brown carpet. And have I mentioned the number of times the perps arrange brown in front of yellow objects, or vice versa, starting with the toilet? There is at least one picture that has a yellow dolly on the roof of a mid-brown vehicle on this blog.

Once out on the street, this being 1715h, there were another 20 or so within 100'; some were on the shopping cart with garbage bags duty, some were in place to look totally fugly and many of them were dressed like me; black coat and blue jeans on. The bad hair dye jobs have also been apparent today; at least four on my sortie to the job and then back again via the supermarket. The perps very much like to get the bad hair dye acts to be backlit, with the sun or other lights coming from behind them, highlight the hair in some kind of iridescent way, and minimizing facial features.

I also got a three vagrant party honor welcome on my way to the supermarket. As soon as the rather odd negro sitting at the sidewalk bench doing his lean-forwards in a dark green anorak with the hood up, (totally absurd as it was warm then), at least two gangstalker parties got up and closed in on me. Nothing too severe like the fucking intense four-way swarms they put around me sometimes, but a decided movement none the less. This is similar to the stunt of a few days ago inside the supermarket when they put at least ten gangstalkers in a line along the deli counter and had the negro standing 4' outboard of the line and 6' from me. The negro had done the lead-ahead gangstalk on the way there to the deli section and then stood outside of this most Caucasian line of gangstalkers already in position. I don't know what the deal is with putting on negro gangstalkers, but I fucking hate being singled out by anyone or by any means, and it really doesn't matter who the fuck it is.

2315h
More web putzing and dealing with an increase of typo sabotage which hopefully you won't see here.

And I notice more of the male gangstalking assholes are wearing light to mid-brown colored clothing of late, and it isn't the exclusive preserve of blondes or other attractive women. Which suggests, in some arcane way, this represents some kind of progress for the perps. But as it has been to close to ten years before they let me dry my cutlery with a tea-towel, I am not expecting that this latest development in their brown color games to make any difference to this imposed incarceration.