Thursday, May 20, 2010

Noise Pummeling

Back from yoga, finished makiing lunch,then eating it about 15 minutes ago, and now the noise campaign has started up in earnest. First putting on the earmuffs helped, save the constant din inside them, and then the clunking started up which made me take them off, so I could hear what was going on. Then it stopped the instant I took the earmuffs off, then fake water running noise (in pipes) started up.

And what was with the flush of dudes packing coffee on the way back from yoga, always a prime fuckover moment of the week? Some 20 of them, mostly by themselves for once, and looking every so busy. Every other one was packing coffee, some from two blocks away when there are at least two closer sources. This ain't the business part of town, just the residential and grocery shopping, and here they are, doing the Coffee Corps strut at 1245h. And they like to walk exactly on the line that I am going to walk, oncoming, and then only recall that it is right-hand drive within 10' or so, when they usually moving over, but not enough of late. And two perp Fuckwits have a mock wrestling match on the street ahead of me, at the location the brown cardboard furniture was placed on the street last year. So fucking stupid at times.

And more of the males on "just stand there" duty; one standing between the curb and the 4' tree stump they left in place about a month ago, with coffee up in hand, and no vehicle parked there. Then around the corner, another one standing at the curb with a grocery shopping bag hanging from his one hand. Then a third fucker parked inside the lobby of this apartment, spaced out over the mail boxes, totally out of it. Three whacko male Fuckwits doing utterly nothing but stand around dumbstruck. The 4' stump has been the site of other male gangstalker wierdness, so I can only assume is some kind of energetic shrine/prop they are expecting to aid them. The sicko's long history of going beserk with gangstalkers over me cutting or pruning trees and shrubs seems to fit the pattern with whatever they are hoping to attain from this particular piece of urban landscape tree butchery. I do wonder if forest descration isn't also part of their agenda, given that it is so prevalent, and by gosh, the Brazilians can never keep on top of the Amazonian deforestation it seems.

The sickos also like me to leave my new books untouched for long periods as the lie on these bare pine wood shelves of my desk/shelf unit. And they nearly always send out a paper packing Fuckwit, sometimes carrying it in his mouth, as part of the ambulatory gangstalker retinue. They have the hots over paper and forest products for sure, not to mention their fascination with scripting the swapover of toilet paper rolls in mid-shit.

Only me and two other classmates in yoga today, which was a little odd, and negro woman wasn't there either. The perps put on extra clunking and door slamming in the building for the first half hour of yoga, and only toned it down to a moderate level after that. They even brought on a new noise for the venue, the running of water in the pipes when there isn't any water pipes within 40'. it is a noise I here all the time in this apartment, so it wasn't a total surprise they would spring one of their regular noises, but to have it so unattributable and obviously faked was new. I can never figure this out; why don't they turn every gangstalked venue into a total cacaphony of all noises as they see fit, instead of this constrained repetoire that is mostly, but not always, arranged with normal-ish characteristic noises? So fucking strange, as they seem to have got past the fact that they are fooling anyone with the bullshit noise that goes on here every waking minute, and yet they will constrain the noise options elsewhere.

When the instructor returned after two years away, the perps put on at least seven class members, some that I hadn't seen in 18 months. Its as if they all wanted to be there for the instructor's premiere, or reprise premiere, so WTF when they all filter out again? One of the class members is from Quebec, and there is a Quebec connection to this insane abuse, as I lived there for two years of my first five in Montreal. Just so I could meet the infamous Dr. Cameron perhpaps, though my recall is 99% deleted from that era, and that includes him, and and any clinical associations. I get plenty of clinical gangstalking scenarios though, another one of those "lost" painters or plasteres in white again at the crosswalk on my way back from yoga. I cannot stand the sight of these white dressed fuckers, and the perps are decidedly messing with my "reactions" to this orchestrated BS.

More infernal hotrod noise, then more, then earmuffs on, then sirens heard through the earmuffs.

A seeming nap onset after more noise parades, and then they wouldn't let me sleep after 20 min. of lying down. All they did was pummel me with more noise while lying down. Just the "usual" hotrods, motorcycles, heavy duty equipment, and even a siren to follow the seagull noise. Now that I am back to seated, why, another round of noise of similar outside sources. I get about 30 hotrod noises a day, though I rarely see them, even if I do look. Ditto for the motorcycle noise, though the sickos seem to have more interest in me seeing them, but the driver-by noise parade rarely has them for the times that I look.

More motorcycle noise, this time erupted when engrossed in reading about a data architect/analyst position. Many of these noise and even phone incursions erupt/happen at the moment of being highly attentive to reading something online, often with a prior noise run-up, per above.

Now the vacuum cleaner has arrived outside my door. I think we have done this one before. I have never known this place to so diligent as to running the vacuum cleaner, twice in one week when twice in six months was the prior norm. Maybe it is getting like every other place I have lived in, always some neat freak with a vacuum cleaner outside my door or on the way out. Even the Fuckwits themselves were running the vacuum to my merriment.

Tea and chocolate are done, thankfully only 100g, the third chocolate sitting of the day. Per usual, the prior noises featured while I was with chocolate in my mouth.

And back to the bad old days again with a sustained rage-ification at dinner time with (brown) food in my mouth. The assholes have stepped up the crumb games, and put some brown tortilla crumbs on my plate. I attempted to pick up one brown tortilla crumb, and it morphed into a dark green olive tapenade crumb under my finger tips. I attempted to pick up the new crumb form and the assholes wouldn't let me pick it up, it just magically slipped past my finger tip, then again. I was then fucked into a "lose it" moment of screaming at the assholes for this insane crumb fucking stunt, and was duly kept vociferously complaining about at least twice more in the next two minutes. That is how it goes around here, the simplest activity can suddenly be sabotaged and then a screaming rage show.

The crumb games have been getting out of hand in the past week; a big clean up last night of the self erutping faux coffee crumbs in the cupboards "resulted" in more of the same crumbs on the counter this morning. I get the coffee ground as fine as possible, it is in a fluffy state when fresh, and yet I keep getting this accumulation of coffee crumbs that are least 10x larger, even if dry. It is absurd these extra crumbs. More coffee crumbs "arrived" on the stove top, and I made sure none landed there, but turn my back once, and poof, they arrive.

Other related excitement for the perps was that I started a new jar of peanut butter this morning, the first in three months or more, having eaten coconut butter all this time. Any kind of diet resumption is always a big deal for the assholes, and I expect the "Peanut Butter Men" to be gangstalking me these next few weeks. (Peanut butter colored work overalls or work gear). I suppose they started last week with a smashed jar of peanut butter on the street when I was headed to yoga. The other side of it is that the perps don't like me to eat foods that I really like for too long, such as coconut butter. They incrementally reduced its flavor to be less and less detectable, and so the coconut butter became "blandified" from what it was initially. Ditto for the chocolate; flavor sensations are defeated within a week of a new kind.

Another "excitement moment" for the perps is arranging the confluence of starting or finishing a package of food. Today, it was the above mentioned peanut butter, and also, the start of a new bag of coffee. Both brown, and of intense perp interest. So, having remnants of the packaging in the garbage together is just peachy for the sickos. And it might have been the reason for the extra coffee crumb teleportation games, as both the "standard" kind and the new finer ground coffee was in the crumb field on the stovetop at breakfast.

More overhead noise through my earmuffs while reading Mavericks of the Mind, and interesting collection of interview with leading consciousness thinkers. The Francis Jeffery piece seemed to bring on extra noise, including the outside motorcycle noise, the most loathed of all.

Another "day of.." done, and another light day tomorrow; three errands are intended but execution and completion are always game to be messed with, and even demotivated shut-in days, usually accompanied by extra gangstalking the following day that I venture out, are expectable scripts of late.

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