The Dental, Yoga and New Shoes Blues

1905h
A 0900h dental appointment that started at 0920h or so, no excuse for being so late so early in the morning for the dental hygienist (read, teeth scraping/cleaning, ultrasonic tip cleaner and flouride to go). And a follow-on five minute session in the dentist's chair, as she smoothed down the broken porcelain of a crown cusp that "for some reason" just let go, unchallenged by what I was eating at the time, some two months ago. As part of getting the bus on time, and then to the dentist's on time, the assholes screwed my watch to read 25 min. fast, and it was too complicated for the availible time to fix it then. (Need the instruction book as they now fuck my recall each time, as I once knew how to fix it). But that wasn't quite enough, as they also first fucked me into "thinking" the watch was 15 minutes fast, and they put me through a few rounds of that exercise, and only "discovering" that it was 25 min. fast only when I had my coat on, and to pass the time here, instead of at the bus stop, they had me update my paper journal with my coat on (a first). Such are the measures of eight years of this insane depravity.

And I purchased new shoes yesterday, Patagonia "Ranger Smiths", about the dumbest name going, but they fit and don't look busy like the infernal running shoes that the perps cursed me with last year (with obvious orange thread no less). And also, they like to have the heels wear out as part of the show to have me change footwear for them, given their rabid obsession over feet, and the color, make and materials of shoes. (And probably adhesives too, given their similar regard for stickers and glues of all kinds). So today, was the first day I wore these new shoes, and besides being comfortable and good looking (as in simple and uncluttered), they are a little higher, like a boot almost. Footwear is always a huge deal for the assholes, and it is most likely their introduction today, with the events that went on, was highly managed for whatever means they judge their success by.

And of course there is almost always some kind of setup at the bus stop as they now delay the buses as I am on time for them. A blonde babe comes to sit on the bench, me alone at first (a rarity). No problem, I never even checked her out. Then a shiftless E. Indian dude comes to loiter around the bus stop, and as he approaches he gives me a short stare, and no big deal, it happens for real sometimes, and then when closer (6' through the bus shelter glass) he gives me a longer stare, and then loiters at the posted schedule. And lo, if he doesn't give me another stare, at which point the assholes have me say "fuck" out loud, something I never do, and then he saunters by, and hangs out behind the blonde babe. More of that blonde babe "auric co-opting" it would seem, and then she enjoins in this stupid bullshit by teasing and tossing her hair. All this time the assholess have me in a state of missing the bus, and getting the next one which gets me to the dentist's five minutes late. Anyhow, two buses for two routes arrive, and the E. Indian gets the first one, and me and the blonde babe, now both standing as the second one got stopped at the traffic light when it seemed it would be arriving at the bus stop, and we board and find our own seats. The ridership and the ride was relatively uneventful, though we did get dogged by the Coca-Cola truck (think, red colors containing brown liquid, among other drinks) doing a left turn from the center lane, and somehow the left turn lane stopped SUV knew to stay in place and act as a pivot vehicle in effect. Then a blank out as to the penultimate bus stop, though I got to my stop as planned, and for once I didn't have a "greeter group" clustered around when I exited.

So to the dentist's office, and at least 20 minutes of siting around reading the yellow covered Economist, while a bloviating dude/pseudo patient did his schtick before doing the same again in another room, my mind-keepers making sure that I overheard the fucker for another round. One would think there was a funeral in progress at the dentist's office when I first arrived, the dentist and her receptionist looked at me as if I had commited a mortal sin, but no one said I was late, and I didn't feel like apologizing and doing the schtick about my watch, which was the planted notion for the duration of the bus trip to get there. Like I said, for an early appointment, I don't see why in the fuck it was so late, and all I can surmise is that it is getting like every venue I go to; protract and string me along while the cast of freaks, verbosity and all the other gangstalking props plays out; some in direct line of sight, some seen through windows and some through walls. Anyhow, the dental hygeinist was much more approachable and talkative, and as dental cleanings go, it went alright. All manner of plasma and maser games were visible, and when near horizontal in the chair, and seeing outside to the eaves and to the sky, I saw the perps were up to their cloud games, populating it with small uniform puffy clouds, and then trying wispy ones, and other variations of cloud dispersion and distribution, though nearly all small ones. I suspect, just like everything else, is that even the color of the sky and clouds is of bearing in this ever changing color exposure milieu that they are keeping me in. It is so fucking predictable.

And out of the dentist's office, though not before a loitering woman in red sweater with a black jacket over it and a leopard skin patterned scarf, mananged to stop loitering and get ahead of me when I was about to get my jacket. In other words, she adroitly timed her passage, after waiting for me to finish with the receptionist (read, financial transaction, a subject of intense perp scrutiny), to pass by me, and lead-ahead and to the doorway where my jacket was hanging. And how many times have the First Feral Family hung around me when putting on or taking off my jacket, not to mention Fuckwits doing it in the street, even first thing before I got the bus. A Fuckwit male was removing his red jacket while standing at the crosswalk for crissakes. These clothing changes would erupt on the hiking trail when I was allowed to keep in shape and have a vehicle, and they still occur on a daily basis,  even at this time of year where it isn't warm.

While waiting at the bus stop to return to downtown I get some very deep red leaves at my feet to match the even deeper slight red to my new shoes,, along with brown leaves  as some kind of color reference. I didn't think much of it when on the bus, even with the woman 8' away with this fugly deep reddish hair dye job, until a woman with partial false red color dyed hair sat in front of me and some of it "somehow" flopped over the seat back and hung down in front of me. That was bad enough, but after getting off the bus, why, a white trades van turned the corner in front of me with a fugly red stringered ladder on its rroofrack, part of the fucking "ladder patrol". So I don't like most red color variants; of what business is that to anyone but me, and why am I eight fucking years into this insane abuse from a covert party backed with endless resources, capabilities and money to arrange these fucking ugly color stunts around me?
I got the bus back into downtown, and passed through the "hoodie ghouls" arranged for me to see, this under the ruse of the area being prone to the homeless. The homeless seem to be one of the most favored gangstalking demographics, and I have little empathy with them, save TI's who are genuinely in need. I don't know what the deal is about hoodies, but more and more I cannot stand to look at them (read, managed and metered faux reactions), and I reckon the color of the head coverage is a big deal too, like all hat acts they put on for me. And what is with all these ball-capped males in their 50's or more, doing the wide crotch stance while seated, with one leg in the aisle? Or, ball-capped males of any age with these absurd fugly faux plaid shorts, often brown on off white? I thought I would see the end of this ridiculous get-up by the end of summer, but not in this town, as it seems they like to show me males in baggy shorts for some reason.


Back to this apartment for 15 minutes of in-between time, as I learned that I hadn't missed yoga after all, and I got the watch fixed so it reads in real time. The usual parade of freaks and loitering dudes on the way there, in keeping with the emphasis on male gangstalkers these days. And our two yoga instructors alternate, both blondes as it "so happens", and I swear today's instructor, once she takes off her large glasses, is a ringer for a blonde Hilary Swank. But of course, she begins the class with them on, and somewhere along the way, as in the pattern of the perps need to have metered or "slow reveals", she takes them off. This then is food for the perps to plant all kinds of absurd notions that it might really be her, but of course I don't give a shit anyhow, as I take her story of as fact. What else would one do in a wilderness of potential bullshit at every turn; the perps need to paralyse me with morphed-over persons whom I know to be of another guise is endless. Sometimes they will pull one for real, where the person's eyes are identical to someone I know, but the rest of the face isn't even if the height, build and comportment are the same. So no, I don't think Hilary Swank is in on this gig, though I have had Robin Williams staring at me in Seattle in 2002.

The usual overhead clunking and outside door slamming noise during yoga came on, and didn't abate, even when the traffic noise ramped up. They even added piano music from next door, which might have had something to do with the piano stored next to me in class, in keeping with the boundless guitar stalking I get, some erupting today even. And for once, they didn't post a vehicle outside the door I usual exit by. The fugly negro woman came late, set up her mat next to the instructor (read, blond aura co-opting), and she lasted a whole five minutes before she departed. She lasted ten minutes last week, and she pulled the same deal, leaving her mat and a blanket in place. Someone else attended to her mat at the end of the class, but somehow, I ended up with putting the negro woman's blanket away. I suspect these items are energized in some way by touching or sitting on them, and the perps needed this residual energy to remain, but without her, and determine the energetic reactions of the others, including me of course. I say of course, as it appears that the perps have created childhood traumatizations with respect to other children of differing races (see the Indian Point Project blog for photographic evidence, link to the right), and they are still hounding me over this, even if they wiped out nearly all my recall to age five. And lo, if there wasn't a negro cyclist in a dayglo lime green coat on the way back, and an ambulatory negro in the next block. And it is exceptional to see this many here, as they are less than 3% of the population, and have an unerring ability to show up in the oddest of places, like last night's two year old, with father, in the local supermarket that should of been in bed, instead of being pandered for the dumbshit race games that I get put through.

And I suppose the ultimate test of the negro games is to have a male negro lead a yoga class with me as a member, and that the sick assholes don't detect any of my subconscious reactions to, however they determine that by their remote means.

2220h
The wonders of being spun in the FUD-world (Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt), though I think Futility should be part of the once-IBM credo as well, given the perps games to have me engage in determining software and hardware configurations for backup. It all started this afternoon with a $25 dual hard drive dock from on sale via email. I have back up hard drives I could put in it, and that would work. Then this spins into getting some decent backup software as part of the solution, hence a wander into the $100 or so options from Western Digital who make hard drives, and supply software. Then, it later gets bigger with two side by side hard drives in a nice aluminum box, keeping the Mac aesthetic. Then bigger yet, with RAID boxes, ones that have two hard drives and copy it to two or more places, now into the $400 to $600's. Then back to reality; can I afford this? Of course, the smart answer can I afford not to if my primative replication methods fail? Anyhow, just an example of how I spend my hours in the company of my mind-keepers, and as always, pondering what this is about.

2300h
A narky email from the ex; "since you never contact her" [your daughter]. Like, it takes two to pull that off, and since all of my past communications with her are so stilted and arranged to be constrained, what is the fucking point? Never mind being kept in a mind-fuck and nonconsensual human experimentation hell that has the entire city in on it, not to mention the intense gangstalking that erupts if I watch her soccer games, as well as the fact that the ex has been abetting the harassment since the get-go, 1979. (Which explains her sudden behavior changes and emotional constipation, and that I could never, ever get a straight answer on all important issues). All my contact with my daughter was positive until I departed to Seattle to financially save the sinking ship (again), and I came back most weekends to see her. So go fuck yourself, and I never want to get entangled with the likes of a managed spouse again, nor do I want to be under any kind of remote control or influencing before I would consider even any kind of romantic liason. In fact, none at all would suit me fine, despite the barrage of imagery and suggestions of a certain woman of some reknown which I won't get into (and have seen at least twice). All I want is my cognitive freedom and to be left the fuck alone for all time. And if that includes a sudden Dorian Grey ending like suddenly ageing to look 56 (which I am), instead of 34 or so (which I look like), then I don't give a shit. The nonsense I have to deal with and the bullshit act these fuckers put on is stultifying to say the least.

There, done for the day, and off to get my eyeglasses back tomorrow, an 11 day run of getting fuzzed out reading until I take these old glasses off and hook them onto my forehead while I read. Which might have been what the extra long wait in the dentist's waiting room was all about, come to "think" of it.