TI Plasma Land

1015h
What I should of named this blog; plasma flashes and projections are constant, and constantly force to to avert my gaze along with similarly perturbing masers. That is, my vision is constantly speckled, flashed, degraded, messed with or otherwise jerked with 100% of the time, and both central vision, and peripherial vision. The latter gets "special treatment" as they will add in objects that I wouldn't be ordinarily seeing, and would be outside my range of vision, except the assholes want more exposure time. I won't get into it any more, as it is personal to some extent, given the absurdity of that term when every Fuckwit in town knows just exactly what I like and don't like, (aka Favored and Unfavored) long before I was made consciously aware of it through repeated presentation in the gangstalking and street stunts shows over the past eight years.

And part of the goings on of late are to have me wear my hair long and have it dangle in view, creating vertical fringes that they like to intermix with vertical plasma beams, on this very LCD as I type, along with the loud mufflered vehicle bursts that somehow get through my earmuffs that I am compelled to wear. And as I type this, some left eye vision fuckery is going on, as if something landed in my eye. The degree of relentless obsession over my every thought and action is more intrusive than ever.

It looks to be another shut-in day when I thought I was to get some outside time today; my perp abetting mother and her flip flopping plans and spew of duplicity takes the day again. If it weren't for the mind-fuck games I wouldn't have anything to do with her bullshit, but they let that happen only once, and then it was defeated. I was to be driving her before and after her eye testing which is to be done in the next block, and was to hear of the pickup and drop off plans last night, and didn't. Just another jerkaround, what else is new?

Well, I did get some very peculiar smells driven up my nose this morning; first when I opened the peanut butter, and again for the blackberry jam, and then again when I put the latter on the former on the gluten free bread. Lets just say that the smells were of human origin, and not from me, and timed precisely for the brown and red food exposures. No doubt said smells will reprise sometime later today if the sickos stick with their usual pattern. Though, the nature of these smells does suggest a darker abusive episode of the deleted memory years, 1956 to 59, one that they now like to posit, albeit in very dicrete and infrequent planted suggestions. When one lives with mind invasive tyranny, and finds it to be 99% bullshit, down to the smallest perception, one doesn't believe anything from that particular source. Keeping the FUD fucking going it would seem. And on comes the most loathed motorcycle noise from outside, and now a siren cascade that is quite loud, even through the earmuffs I am wearing.

Last night's games, typical for a Monday night, were to keep me awake for at least an hour of planted and fast cycling thoughts, the usual forced head flipping like any night before sleep is permitted, and then on came the dude-talk bullshit. A 0100h dude chat from a putative nearby apartment that started up, and the perp sickos find great interest of late, perhaps to inculcate me to believe that the dudes are OK. As in not; the preponderance of shiftless males loitering about without apparent day jobs is getting much more obvious each passing week. I have heard of horsed reacting violently to the presence of males due to past abuses, and that just might be the case if I am ever allowed to find out what the fuck they did to me way back when. It seemed that it was so bad they had to delete my recall. Many of those similarly abused under government auspices do recall what has happened, if only latteraly in their 40's and 50's. Some found themselves to have multiple personalities, and others are just plain messed up and have never made it in the adult working world.

Now the beeping has started up, horns, and the one note whistle noise of no ostensible origin, a noise that plagued me 2005 to 2006, and is now reprising. Other noises of that particular residency have also been reprising in my earmuffs when they definitely don't happen here. Now more siren chirping and so it goes. Noise upon noise, crafted and segued to endles variation and in combination with what I am doing or thinking.

12`0h
Two days ago I set up my mother's PC (containing the motherboard of my former one), with Picasa, the Google supplied free download photo management software. When installing it, the software scoops all the picture/image files it can find and puts them into collections as a first attempt to add order. It did a decent job of it, and somehow added a bunch of sample jpg files and such, many of them with pictures of negroes in them. Where they came from I have no idea, but I spent a while cleaning up these "extras", and lo, if some of the pics and collections I was keeping just didn't disappear in the next refresh. Another one of those poof!, gone jerkarounds, the exact same thing that happened about a year ago when rationalizing the Picasa collections on my own PC. This year though, they allowed me to "realize", per planted thought, that I could recoer them from the Recycle bin, which I was about to do when my mother "happened" to come by. I briefly explained that some of the photos went missing, and she said something to the effect that maybe they got lost in setting up Picasa. Like WTF; she is so totally useless with PC's and any related concept, and then she somehow knew that I had gone through a round of file manipulations beforehand, and then "accurately" suggested that might have been the problem. And as it was, she was there when I restored the files in the wretched Windows Explorer tool, and lo, if they didn't recover just as they had been, and all viewable from Picasa. Yet more evidence that she is connected to this insane abusive scam, knows the script, and knows exactly what to say, and leaving a little hint that this is the case.
What the sickos get from me doing file manipulations I don't know; having me delete files or email is always a noise stalking event, even for document files or saving this blog posting as it becomes written. But it seems they wanted to replicate the past fuckery of having me think the files were lost, and then having her on hand when I recovered them. Just fucking bizarre.

1545h

More reading of "A Nation Betrayed" by Carol Rutz, a survivor of 1950's and 1960's nonconsensual human experimentation. She recalls the players and many things they said and did. That included placing sleeves through her skull, (she was 8 to 10 at the time), as permanent guildeways for electronic probes to be put into her brain, even while active, as the experimentor wanted to know what she thought or saw in relation to the depth and location of the probe. She met one of Canada's esteemed neurologists, Dr. Wilder Penfield, as a subject of course, though he would personally walk her through the buildings and hallways of McGill University. I find it interesting that Dr. Penfield says,  “we only have 10 days to get this done. She is of above average intelligence but below average ability to travel the time continuum”. p. 65. He was talking to a colleague with Carol Rutz beside him, and then goes on about accessing the two alters, naming them, and says that he hopes to reach the seat of the soul. All of which tells me was that he wasn't just doing the research for journals and publication, but that he was knowingly doing research for covert organizations far outside any approved protocols, especially with a child as a subject. In other words, he was CIA guided, and was likely so from the days he established the McGill Neurological institute.

In another quote on p. 58, "Psychokinesis occurs via an energy exchange, or a cummunication, bertween the experimentor and the subject." Quoted from CIA Mori ID 173512. Well, could this be what the sickos are all about, having their Fuckwits stare at me, or alternately, look away in the most ridiculous of circumstances? They are looking for some kind of primal exchange, and perform great amounts of effort to ensure slow and graduated introductions to the person. Various methods are to have them on the phone at first, then later pehaps see them, (or more like, them me while they are in disguise), and eventually meet them. It makes me wonder about the whole cast of characters pre-overt/beserk event of 04-2002.

1630h
More noise through the earmuffs and seeming to be a shut-in day owing to promised contact not materializing. The "freeze victim in headlights" (captive to a plan that doesn't unfold) trick again.

1715h
Eating a kiwi fruit after dinner turned into a big siren noise event. I think noise eruptions nearly always cover me for eating this particular green fruit, with brown skin and black seeds inside. Not only that, the sirens covered me for retrieving the bag from the fridge, opening it anew, grasping one kiwi fruit, putting the bag back, removing the sticker on the fruit, all while eating it, and then some more after I had finished, crossed the floor, booted the PC and sat down to wait for it to complete boot-up. Exciting stuff for sick minds, hounding me over what my mouth contents are.

1810h
Some video was allowed to be viewed; Claudia Mullen, a TI on youtube making what looks to be a Congressional committee presentation.

1835h
Watching a video of alternate archeology on Project Camelot, Klaus Dona, one hour 27 min. I am getting the extra outside noise at certain junctures, causing me to take my earmuffs off and plug my ears. Fun and games. The sickos had me watching videos late last week when dark, but have now moved this activity to earlier in the evening, pre-tea time even. All these regular activities are important for scripting according to the natural lighting conditions. And a German accent exposure in listening to this video, and I have known the perps to put on this as background chatter when I was doing volunteer work back in 2007. Which begs the question as to why they set that up, having someone speak loudly on the phone, in German accented English, and then slide into German, which I didn't pick up.

2120h
I did my month end accounting tonight, always a big perp interest event, all those financial transaction recordings and itemizing. I am barely break even, so no fancy keyboard for me, to replace this wretched spongey one. And of all things, they didn't rage-ify me while doing the accounting for May, though they did fuck me around for at least 20 forced mistakes, and have me pound the keyboard a few times. And of all things, after jerking my ass around for over six years of doing month end accounting, they finally let my bank statement read down just like Quicken. At least over three years ago the bank statement read from the bottom of the page to the top, and then the bank added buttons to change the date order but they mysteriously didn't work, so I had to read Quicken down and the bank statement up from the bottom, a piss off to be sure, and a source of intense perp fuckery in having me look in the wrong direction on the wrong statement. At least a hundred rage-ifications on that one alone. And this month, they let me click on the date order button, and lo, if it didn't work. Putting them on the page display and not having them work for over two years; what was the point of that obsessive fuckery?

Other bullshit tonight was to have the plasma games on the LCD display, darkening down one side of the screen or the top or bottom and having it flash and waver for whatever reason, especially after switching from one color (bank) to another (cash account).


2240h
This shut-in day is over; plenty of chirps in the headphones that curiously erupt when I move the mouse. All to keep me tracked, in audio and in vision.

Not done yet; I had CC Cleaner running, a file cleanup program, and then while in Windows Explorer and looking at the Temp directory, the music I was listening to suddenly stopped when I saw the files disappear. Then the running water noise started up, heard through the headphones, while I was complaining out loud as to who turned off the music. Just one of those "happenings" when one has magnets at their ears.