Friday, May 07, 2010

Nursery Time

That is plant nursery, where one goes to purchase plants for the garden. Today's outing was to such a place, planned for months at this one location as it has native plants, and that is what was needed to convert a border bed from a thirsty planting to a drought tolerant one. This bed has been rife with three kinds of invasive ground covers and I dug it up last year and this, some 20 hours invested in it. Last years' hericide spraying didn't do much, hence the manual labor of digging. I took my mother there to look around, as she is buying the plants, and there was plenty to see, as it was well stocked with interesting plants that one doesn't see at other locations.

The infernal gangstalking show was there, though not too pressing, but they brought in their "Scotty Dog" for me to overhear. That translates to Scotsman, with the thick accent, and they kept him talking for at least 15 minutes, having me hear him, then go out of range, and then come back to again hear the fucker. As mentioned many times, the perps like to hound me with Scottish accented gangstalkers, and it just might have a traumatization association from my two years that I lived in Montreal, and for which my memories have been nearly fully deleted. That particular Scotsman in question would be Dr. Ewan Cameron, aka brain butcher, one of psychiatry's leading lights of the 1940's tthrough mid 1960's, who hung out at McGill University, where my father "happened" to be completing his PhD.

And lo, if my mother didn't get to meet the owner of the nursery business, slinking out of the adjacent  building to avoid me ahead by 6', and introducing himself to my mother for some reason. Have I not mentioned the gangstalking variant of the business owner doing the perp's deed? No big deal, though funny how he wasn't around beforehand, and only after my mother paying for the plants. That in itself was a minor mind-fuck play, as the cashier said it was "one hundred and ninety three dollars", which freaked me out some as I thought the tab was going to be around $100. And lo, if my mother didn't think the same, (not having apparently looked at the bill, but paid it anyways for some curious reason), and when she showed it to me, it was "$100.93", more what I expected it to be. Anyhow, this minor confusion/planned FUD seemed to be a big deal, with some kind of noise going off at the "ahaa" moment of cognitive connection.

And it was a huge day for vehicular gangstalking, and heavy on the red vehicles today, and even keeping the fugly brick red vehicle in front of me, conveniently changing lanes when I did. The gasoline and fuel oil tankers were on duty, as was the redi-mix trucks, two examples of the obsessions the perps have over exposing me to these products/substances.

Other nonsense on the First Feral Family stunt today was to aid my brother in loading up the plastic bags full of the last three weeks of compostable garden debris, the weeds and screening from the varied projects that I had undertaken there; bed digging, dandelion removal, pine cone collecting etc. These are community compostables, that is, they are taken to the municipal yard for them to utilize for their compost digester and consequent compost sales. These are the plant material and screenings that would be unlikely to compost down in a lower temperature home garden scenario, as the weeds would resprout. I suppose the TI community is aware of the perp's abiding interest in composting, and having me involved in some way, and that the femme fatale, Ms. C of the story, even took her master composter's training when I lived in Seattle. Why the perps are so bent out of shape over composting is still higly speculative, and it may be a slower form of what they are looking for when I digest my food.

Another vignette from earlier today when out driving. Two black SUVs ahead of me, and in file, and they stayed that way for some five minutes of driving before they turned off. And within a minute, why, a car carrier transporter, with a black pickup on the top rack just behind the cab, and a SUV in the last most position of the top rack, emulating the distance they would be apart if driving. So, having large black passenger vehicles driving in file and then an emulatory set up with the aid of two similar black passenger vehicles on a car carrier. And have I not mentioned the surfeit of vehicles being towed or fully carried in my proximity? I think so, and I think it is totally fucking absurd to be hounded with these elaborate setups just because the abusers haven't the gumption to front for their covert research agenda. Not my problem, so why am I getting put through this for eight years now?

Picture time; the first two are from the hallway outside my apartment and the elevator entry in the top pic, left side. These are to show the complete poly plastic sheeting they used to have me walk upon to the elevator, presumably to give me a strong poly plastic signature so they could detect it outside and on my beat. They painted all those brown steel door jambs that one sees, and that includes mine, shown in the second photo below, Abuse Central. The fugly green masking tape also "showed up" on other places on my beat, one being the window of a building that is undergoing refurbishment. And having extra brown paper as part of the deal didn't hurt either, especially when walking on or over it.

 And the last of the last upload of pics is this one, the setting sun in the W. "somehow" reflecting off the residential tower and right at me. When one zooms in on the picture below I see there are three sources of the light that are all doing the same thing, one looks forward of the building even . Taken 04-29-2010.

This one is done, and given that they let me out today, I suspect tomorrow will be a shut-in day, duly dull and pedantic.


Anonymous said...

They are very big on Doppels and lookalikes. For example, this box I have in the garage, has a picture of a guy on it, which kind of disturbed me a little. Then, later on this evening, I saw this guy in the usual gangstalking-type vehichles, a gold police-cruiser-looking "boat" type vehicle. The guy was slowing, and pulled over and looked at me. Lo, he looked just like the aforementioned guy on the box I was talking about earlier.

There are countless ocurrences of having me encounter people that resemble a "relevant" portion of my past.

I'm not really sure if I was targeted before birth, but it seems I was just thrown right into the water when the perps went overt in 2005 or so.

I'm starting to think I was selected before I was born, but the perps weren't nearly as well-connected as they are today, so that's probably why I'm perceiving that their insane bullshit is relatively recent.

Either way, I'm glad I get to "compare notes" with other TI's and share some of my experience with them. The art of exposing me to lookalikes everywhere I look is very big in their plans. Actually, they are morphs of different people in one, but they are very good at this part of the game.

They have really done their homework on me, that's for sure. Amazing that some family members are in denial about all of this. They prefer they "you're imagining things" angle that other TI's have complained about.

AJH said...

Answer to: They are very big on Doppels...

I haven't had any doppelgangers of late, which just might be my intro to some this week. I get pissed enough with the forced/directed attention to see faces on proximate newspapers or ads on the bus that I take whatever preventitive action I can, e.g. moving or flipping the newspaper so there are no heads/faces for me to get my focus re-directed to for whatever reasons the assholes have in mind. I suppose this might aid their other agendas, like getting better proximate energetics data, but in this game, it is choosing the better of two or more arranged problems/harassment.

I suspect that most of the 2002 to 2006 wave of new TI victims were covertly followed for most of their lives, likely total covertness, without abetting family, friends, schoolteachers or employers. If I am in contact with a new TI I will often mention that the monitoring and arranged circumstances likely go back much further than the overt onset, but they usually don't want to go there, and I can respect that. There is only so much that one can take in when reworking one's life experiences and casting them into an entirely new set of contrived and arranged circumstances. But they do know how to run children as well as adults. In my case I suspect they were onto my parents early in their lives, 1930 or so, though likely covertly until before I was born (1954). I also get the drift from the perps with supporting arranged drama, that they are even going back to fetal level noises and traumatizations. My mother doing extra sighing and moaning is one example, the inexplicable gurgling in the wall in the bathroom that went on for some two months was another. And all this infernal clicking and popping noise all the time might be a replication of internal joint noise.

The perps like to plant lookalikes plenty, seeming to invoke another person other than the lookalike. I also get plenty of mind-fuck "feeds", when I see a particular gangstalker, either a repeat or anew; that is "Ms. A." former girlfriend of college days they will tell me when this blonde woman gets on the bus, about my age. Then there is Ms. C. from the story, who is now Ms. L they tell me, and certain lookalikes will present themselves. Last week I had the Redcoat brigade packed around me on the bus, and then this babe in a verdant green shirt who was standing would pop into view for a half minute and then slip behind someone again. She did this at least twice, "featuring" herself, and she did look a bit like Ms. L. If I have any choice in this bullshit, which I assume I don't, is that it is all lies, and I don't accept the planted notion. And it seems the perps are desparately attempting to beget some kind of intrinsic psychic reaction to, say, Ms. L when it is, but doesn't look like her, and then when it is, but doesn't look like her. Naturally, I have seen Ms. L at least twice, so there is the continuing memory of both looking like her and being like her. It is all very elaborate and decompositional; down to look, facial features (nose, eye shape, jaw line etc.), the real person who looks like who I know, then the real person who doesn't, and all the morphover combinations, even to the gender level.

Finally, I was allowed to know of a riposte to the "imaging things" line. I wasn't allowed to use it yesterday when talking to my in-town brother and mentioning the arranged vehicle color traffic around us, but it has been planted for a month or so now, and that is the family quisling is "playing dumb". It is rare that I am allowed to verbally effectively defend myself when I have the vocabulary to do so. Thanks for the comments.