A late start to blogging, and I will carry this over to Sept. 02. Yes, I know this is Sept. 01, but it has been clear that the sickos have increased the number of gangstalkers wearing toques and scarves, even in this warm weather. And that includes today's absurdity; one person wearing both, as if it were November, though he was in the shade all day on the daffodil bulb conveyor line. I am still slinging daffodil bulbs for my seasonal farm employer, and was glad for payday today so I could save it for paying off my income tax bill next year. Woo-hoo, saving for paying taxes. Even us low-income schmucks must pay taxes, and a $300 hit in March or so is one that I spend much of they later months trying to recover from. I never did get out of the hole for the duration of the cleaning job, $400/month, Jan. to July 2009. only by by picking berries and then daffodil bulbs did I finally end up with a positive balance at the end of the month. It used to be that my disability check would be posted to my account, and it only reduced the line of credit (owing), not even putting me back in the black. Now, PC upgrades beckon, and that is a big wad of cash I don't yet have, but it seems the excitement level is building ready or not. Which means that prudent and rationale financial behavior isn't allowed by the perps, as I have had no problem with this in the past. And of course there is the $200 to $250 chocolate bill each month, all in service to the perp's insane preoccupation with the color brown, especially when inside my mouth. I don't drink cola drinks as I find them too sweet, but I am sure others are doing this for the almighty brown cause that predominates the harassment panalopy.
Another laundry jerkaround stunt tonight; some paper in my pockets went into the laundry and the assholes dispersed it in a fine layer of fibers all over the items. Another laundering seems to have taken care of the worst of it, but it is one more example of this ongoing imposition of adversity over the strangest of subjects, laundering. The perps have been pre-occupied with fucking my laundry for over seven years now, and that would include laundering at various shills and quisling residences, e.g. Ms. C, First Feral Family, and generic laundromats where the gangstalkers loiter and perform their respective acts.
And post payday, a big push on blue colors in the road traffic and gangstalker clothing. I have remarked in past blog postings that the perps like to put blue dressed gangstalkers around when I make a purchasing decision or when paying at the checkout. Well, today was the reciept of a paycheck, and lo, if there were a plethora of blue dressed gangstalkers, especially downtown. This would be a mid-blue color, the same as the body of my backpack which was in my lap for the 50 min. bus ride from farm to downtown. They even drove vehicles on the sidewalk, placed them on the crosswalk for a blue electric scooter to arrive and block all of the crosswalk, and drove vehicles down the wrong side of the street for some 60' as part of the ongoing frenetic insanity of the orchestrated Potemkin Bubble the assholes like to keep me in.
Another late blog entry, largely because my training grant application needs to be completed for tomorrow, and it still isn't finished. I will be at home, and lo, if the toilet fixing assholes won't be arriving to join me. The tank mechanism broke on the weekend; a temporary fix is to turn the water valve on only for flushing and recharging and shut it off thereafter. This nonsense started up four days ago, and I keep getting promises that it will be fixed manana. And of course I was out working the past three days and they could of come then, but no, the assholes want to fix it when I am here, slogging away on this application. The inaugural toilet install when I moved in was to have an E. Indian repairman all over it, fussing around, so perhaps this is a repeat, attempting to separate brown color sources. I wonder if he has, or will, crap in it while I am out. I have no idea what goes on here while I am out, and I am sure there is plenty of opportunity with the teleportations games I am so familiar with.
A working day at home essentially as I had the training course funding meeting to attend, and as always, it is last minute preparation when there was plenty of time in advance. Another long standing perp SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) is to have the victim behind on commitments and deadlines. I always wondered how it was that I never got onto writing papers at college until two days before the deadline. The one time I prepared a paper well in advance was when I used a word processor for the first time, a mainframe IBM computer in 1978 no less. The jerkaround was that I "forgot" to take it in the day of the deadline and got hit for 10% off as a "consequence". Little did I know this was some kind of mind invasive abuse that stemmed from their insane and abusive practices. And too, the mainframe systems personnel looked down on those who used a computer for word processing as it was deemed frivolous then. Interestingly though, they had a special command to attach to the printing job header that requested operator intervention to use a high bond quality paper, like for a formal presentation.
And lo, if this entire training funding initiative, some $8k worth of Oracle courses hasn't taken a reverse turn in the past hour. My shrink talked to the case manager and is now, (never before in over a year) "concerned" about my stress levels. So........, what does he do; he increases my stress level by invoking an obstructive (IMHO) "concern" that has never been mentioned by him, and he has no evidence that I am aware of that he is referencing. Another WTF moment; another intelligent individual playing dumb; been there, and done that, and didn't need any more of it as it is stressing!
So..., a year's worth of preparation and run-up over queing up Oracle course funding is now sitting in balance, and I will proceed to submit the application without my case manager's recommendation it seems. The case manager and I meet again next Thursday (missing yoga again), and we shall see what this disruptive wrinkle brings. That the case manager sprung the pivotal doctor's recommendation requirement on me only two weeks ago is suspicious, as it should of been done many months ago, to save all this intense activity/build-up related to application submission. Another "raise the angst" (stress the victim) FUD game it would seem. (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt). No wonder three of my confreres from the working world are with IBM. Hmm..., more conspiratorial thoughts.
An inspired little descriptive blurb uttered forth while I was writing the Oracle course funding application; one of those "damn the torpedoes" moments that surely must be manufactured elsewhere to sabotage my front of decorum and reservedness.
The question was; How does this disability having a permanent physical or mental impairment that restricts your ability to perform daily activities?
The mind-fuck answer was: "Constant adversity doing normal things; snagging, slipping and sticking of clothing, papers, fingers, etc., as if extra-conventional gravitic abuse was applied by remote means in real-time and by way of total and abidding surveillance. A huge increase in forced typos, (the handwritten document was augmented with such at this point), in excess of normal since this disability began, and still continues 7.5 years later. Also, being jabbed, pinched, struck, and hit by objects that were, at best, proximate and were not causal as no actual contact was observed."
Now this has been going on since the harassment started 04-15-2002, and is nothing new to my employment case manager with whom I began this bureaucratic dance with about a year ago. But now, it has become an instant (JIT supplied by the mind-fuck state) excuse to manufacture assent (thanks to Noam C.) with the doctor who has also gone wacko at the crucial moment, invoking a new sandbagging concern as identified above. Over one year later of the same story recounted in differing facets in his office, and not one lick of research on his part, and he now becomes concerned about stress. Dude, where have you been; constant stress has been going on since the above date of the apartment invasion and the barrage of abuse that opened up the covert life sabotage for me to know about. In about 2004 they seemed to be able to subvert my own stress reactions, and I suspect the entire stress "response" is now totally governed and managed by the SS (Surrepticious Sickos). That would include a recent healthy blood pressure test by the GP doctor, mentioned in these blog pages about a month ago, as the numbers got fucked out of mind, as normally I don't forget that stuff.
Funny how one jerkaround plays into another over this training fund application process;
- I get slowly lured into federal job training funding availibilty in fall 2008, and into Feb. 2009, with no caveats or critical requirements mentioned, but the seed is planted along with local public database courses of the kind that I formerly worked with,
- I even get a vocational assessment done that alsofeatures a supposed professional who also refuses to do any research about the clinical viability of the disability story, but the results are positive for matching abilities to proposed course work,
- then without explanation I get sent to the provincial agency, who, after two meeting postponements of three weeks, dropped me because the health case worker went wacko, and they didn't want to find anything contrary along the lines of research and contacts I suggested,
- then send me back to their federal government counterpart who drops the doctor's recommendation letter requirement bombshell (but a legitimate request) with too short of a time frame (as mentioned above),
- then the doctor goes and invokes a new concern off the wall that is old news (per above),
- then the employment case manager suddenly gets all ancy/concerned about "my" statement in the application above, surely a mind-fuck as I am not normally so declarative about this bullshit in written form to those in officialdom whom I don't know, and the employment case manager knew all about anyway,
- and now the entire year lead-up planning and application process has been rendered moot,
- and I am still writing it up for submission without the employment case manager's recommendation, and so it goes.
And then I send off the application Sept. 11, a harbinger perhaps, and then go on a week's excursion, taking my mother for a driving holiday (hers, not mine), all the while playing into the stress thing, wondering what is happening to it all. So is this all a big game of dashed expectations, aka suck-and-fuck that has been played out for so often, or is it the real deal? Or is it a sequel to going through this again for the latter two Oracle courses in 2010, sometime in December? I am betting on the latter; there is nothing the perps like more is iterative rounds of the same fruitless exercise, the more time between them the better, or perhaps, changing only one player between iterations. Stay tuned, as I don't know what is going down this Fall. Granted, the tip off was that this was looking too easy, fill out the application and everyone agrees, and some kind of FUDS (Fear, Uncertainty, Doubt and Sabotage) was surely planned from the get-go.
Which does make me ponder; since I spent nine years with the Ministry of Forests directing and supervising database development and shepherding the same project three times through the many shoals of outlandish bureaucracy, but finally persevering only to have the boss man put it on ice so he could "make it simpler", I wonder what is in the SS agenda on the Oracle database front? There were some more hints from the employment case manager today about "self employment", so it would seem that this might be the next phase of permitted vocational activity. But what does all this database development, past and future portent, have to do with the long term perp agenda? As a footnote for the upside; I learned a few days ago that the said Ministry of Forests database development is operational and is in good hands with one of my technically minded staff that I had. Neither was expected or known until now, along with a sudden spate of floor/ceiling pounding from above as I write this.
Time to wrap all of this up for today, even if I am not getting into the latest LD store gangstalking games that use daddy and his three year-old at 2030h (kid should be in bed), and a set up for me to pass between the fuckers while said kid waves a plastic display hook set around my feet. Said daddy of the ongoing Red Shirt Brigade even looked totally stupid when I drilled him with my gaze that surely read extra disdain for using live kiddie props while gangstalking, especially for the "split familial" version of the "split couple" gangstalk stakeout. Regular readers will know that the gangstalker couples are often arranged to split apart at my arrival for me to pass between them, as there is no other through passage.
Other action was the seeming assistant manager of the apartment building who accompanied the manager during this afternoon's toilet fixing while I happened to be eating chocolate with my tea, who happened to be out in the same clothing when I was on my way to the LD store. (Think of the brown color connection there, a recurrent color theme of significant proportions in the perp world).
Onto to checkered glory for tommorrow's farm duty, hoping that no more individuals go wacko on me. These sudden behavior changes seem to be more prevalent of late, and there is nothing I have said or done to cause them. One of the regular farm staff pulled this late last week and earlier this week, and with the above clinical quislings also turning wacko, I think it is time this bullshit act ended for all time. I have an ex who also pulled this sudden behavior change for ten years, a personable individual who suddenly went wacko and extremely tense over no explicable cause. I suspect in her case the "happy mind-fuck juice" was turned off over three months or so, and she wasn't ever going to explain why. Like I say, stress is the preferred state for a TI, and not by their choice.