Nine Year Anniversary

1120h
It was nine years ago to the day that my life got ripped and shredded into this constant harassment and threat world, and while not evident at the time, being a near total mind fucked slave to some huge human experimentation agenda that even encompasses war, petroleum (transport, burning and spilling), sentience of botanical plants, and possibly even object sentience. Not all of that was revealled at the time, as I thought it was some kind of police invasion/takedown at first. That is, I was planted with these notions and the concurrent surrepticious entry of my apartment hours earlier suggested that someone was looking in all the closets, behind books and through my desk, and even smeared blue ink on my office chair mat. And someone was able to hack my PC as well, which pointed to some kind of serious investigation that had not yet been completed, even though I had done nothing wrong. I was holding an IT job in Seattle at the time, and there had been some recent strange looks at me for the prior week, and I could not figure out why. I thought I was going to get laid off the next day, as this was the company rumor. No big deal I thought, the gig was getting thin with a major project being shelved, and the notion of data analysis recognition and discipline in the company was going from bad to worse.

I ended up going to the 24 Hour Fitness to avoid the takedown event, and when there at 0200h, these guys show up with seeming holsters under their sweat pants, at least two. And someone else double parked outside my vehicle on the street for a minute or so. I couldn't figure out how these dudes were showing up as they did not come through the front door where I was near. Then, I found my medications that were in my pack that was in my locker to be missing when I knew that I had packed them. At around 0400h I returned to my apartment, and saw my medications back in my bathroom where they were. Like WTF, how did they get back ahead of me? I later fell asleep on the floor, and it might of been some six hours later when I awakened with six males holding me up, carrying back into my apartment, who then placed me down, and it seemed that I fell asleep again for a little while longer.

When I woke up there were sounds of dogs barking and rattling chains on cages and I thought this was a real live SWAT team takedown. What did I know about these things anyhow? All manner of strange things happened, like the door moving inside the door jam, a hole being cut in the floor from below, brown plasma flashes that caused me to collapse with no energy, then fuzzy ball masers were flying around like bumblebees, and coming at each other and either crossing paths firectly in front of me or else reversing to emulate crossed paths. Then there were things that would just appear from nowhere; a screwdriver that I picked up and its blade just drooped, and batteries that would roll in from nowhere. At some point it ended, and no one came in. That is how I first recalled it, but later, I realized that there were personnel that came in, one teleporting through the bathroom wall, and another blocking the toilet with a balloon that he placed in it as he flushed it. Why I let someone I didn't know block my toilet tells me I was totally mind-controlled, as I would never let this happen. So somehow, someone fucked my temporal memory as I have never had any problem recalling the time sequence of anything, and yet somehow I did at this time. There were other vignettes of me taking my swim club jacket to another part of the building to give to them, even if I didn't see them in person at this location. On the way back, this time outside the building as it was wrapped around three sides of a city block, I see some 20 people or so, ordered together for a group photo outside my place. I have no recollection if I passed by or made any association with this high-tech apartment invasion. By this time it was about 1500 to 1600h in the afternoon. Anyhow, this was the opening salvo, and many of the things that I saw or experienced still come to roost in the ongoing harassment, like the toilet shit games and the perps obsession over the color of brown. I spoke with a Ti about this, and she said I might of been in an altered state. I might of been, and I did feel a little "floaty" then, but who did this and why? And nine years later I still don't have an answer.

The first gangstalker showed up the next morning on my way to work, sitting in the chair in the hallway for no seeming reason, when no one had ever sat there for the prior 18 months. In fact, the apartment had minimal other tenants; I only saw some no more than a half dozen times for the prior 18 months, which is consistent with the last place in Everett, and the places I have lived in since. This apartment has 140 suites, and I am hard pressed to believe that there are that many who live there. Most of the houses around the First Feral house seem empty too. The odd neighbor seems to return every now and again to be seen or to make noise, but it appears that no one else is around. My take on this is that the irradiation, of whatever kind it is, is just too intense for them to take unless they want to be involved to the degree that I am. Another take on having few genuine neighbors is that the perps don't want other's energies to interfere with me, so they keep them away on a regular basis. I have no idea as to how they pull this off en masse, as the paucity of neighbors seems to be for a surrounding block at least, maybe two.

1830h
For the second time today, extensive overhead pounding continues immediately after meal time. I have much the same food, quesadilla with a tapenade base and cooked chicken on top, and I sense that post-mealtime represents a big challenge for their remote energetics assay games. Hence, the unusual number of stunts that go on before mealtimes, lunch and dinner at least, as they are much the same. As with yesterday, this is a concrete and steel constructed building with 12" thick floor/ceilings, and I have no idea how anyone could conventionally pound such a structure and make the amount of noise that comes through my hearing protection.

And the before meal time event was having me review recent past membership of the Association of BC Professional Foresters, and finding someone a little younger than me is retired from the Ministry of Forests. Which is being treated as a wake-up call, as to what I am doing, (read, mind-fucked into doing) looking for work situations that require me to go back to school for training. And these being manual labor jobs as well. So... why don't I just put my feet up and stay on the disabled roster? That is a good question, but it does need to be supplemented with some $400/month to keep me solvent, as I am not able to get any social housing, meaning reduced rent, even if I have been on the list for three years. Besides, I really don't like doing nothing at all, and the perps like me to know it (more overhead rumbling and thundering as I typed that), and have me in a constant state of agitation over securing some kind of employment. They have never let me relax, take stock and stay put; instead, always some kind of angst about being "fulfilled" in work and the rest of it. Not that that has ever happened either. So... a new round of vocational consideration is going to evolve from this, though I don't see anything changing.

1900h
I go to take a pee in the bathroom, some 9' away in a separate room, and the overhead pounding follows me in there. Just totally amazing that whoever does this knows exactly where I am at any given moment. Though, truth be told, I am long over admiring the perps' total containment and awareness, which is putting it mildly, as it is more like totally scripted containment, down to every last drop/speck that "shows up" in my proximity. Dandruff arrives on my shirt regularly now, upper L and "must be" (read, planted obsession) removed immediately prior to taking a pee. This way they get some interaction with my fingers and my shirt, navy blue in color. Same at dinner tonight, and eating salad with an oil and vinagrette dressing on it; a 1/8" speck of vinagrette somehow ended up 20" from the dinner plate on the table. Yesterday they arranged a multi-droplet vinagrette splatter stunt; three droplets were arranged in a line from the same splatter event of it flying in from nowhere; two on the outer regions of the dinner plate and the third 2" further and managing to land exactly where the drinking glass met the table, touching both at the same time. It was exactly aligned with the other two, and we are talking about a deep brown color here, one of the perps' favorite colors to test me on with small introductory/incremental methods.

2220h
An earlier round of restless legs and jabs to my feet and knees got me off this PC and chair and I was controlled to read an old book, one with discolored pages. I laid down on my yellow bed cover to do so, and within five minutes I was screwed out of reading. So, I make the usual evening time tea, Green Ginger by Tao it is called, with a yellow-green wrapper around every tea bag. Which happened to be the identical color of the furniture in the box of a pickup this afternoon, shortly after having this same tea then. The overhead pounding noise got really serious at this point, and was also accompanied by voice noise and a steady thumpy beat, though not from music. And when I make the tea, why, it is the same color as the discolored pages in the book. So it would seem it was a color test ahead of the tea I was to drink. This afternoon's sofa-in-pickup being a test of the teabag wrapper.

Thankfully the perps settled down, reduced the noise, and let me back on this PC to finish this blog posting. And lo, if in-town-brother wasn't phoning to BS, something he rarely does. And he was keeping on the theme of what I was doing. Which is what my colleague who took me for coffee asked when she already knew the answer. Which is, nothing, and this seems to be a big perp moment, having me declare that I am not working, and that my many job applications aren't getting any response whatsover when it is clear that I have all the experience and training they are asking for. But as the perps have beat me down to $9/hr for the last four years of attempted work, I am quite sure they would not want me to get $22/hr in an unionized job for some nine months. It is just not allowed at this stage of the Fuckover Agenda.

Which begs the questions as to what the perps are now looking for. One of their themes is employment, lack thereof, pay, pay rate and type (hourly or piece rate) and the entire gestalt of work. So it would seem with two persons asking me this week "what I am doing", when they both know the answer in advance, that the perps are now moving onto psychic discoveries, the remotely detected psychic energetics about every concept, notion, tradition and every human quality or artifice, including language itself.

At nine years of this insane depraved abuse, it now seems the perps just got started (as was their mantra back in 2005), getting very close to 100% mind control. I get plenty of jabs and pains in my temples these days, and I can only surmise it is the assholes playing "Fish" with my brain and its neural properties. Which then begs the question, how much longer are they going to be life raping me and all the other TI's out there. I don't have an answer to that, though they say four more years. That is coming from the most unreliable sources of all, the party that manages the deception plan to the same degree as the real plan, which they won't fully divulge.

There you have it, the nine year anniversary of life rape onset, playing out 24/7/365, down to every subsecond of my existence, and in a totally scripted and contained existence to ensure constant threat and adversity from all quarters, including the perversion of the conventional physicality of everything, including gravity.

And what do I have to show for it? No job, minimal family contact, engaging with dipshits by design, constant gangstalking, especially with the coffee and brown drink bearing crowd, (on top of me when out to post a letter today), and on a disablitiy that is supposed to be difficult to get. I am kept in a constant state of duress, and the mind invasive disruptions bring on at least 30 vocalized enragements a day. On the bright side, I am 56 and look younger than 33 (lines came out from under my eyelids last year, coming in at age 33), they straightened my sway back and changed my walking gait in 2004 (for the better), they strengthened all my musculature, over my abdomen especially (2006), and I have biceps that stay in place (2009) for the first time that don't need to be maintained by pushing weights. But as I didn't ask for this insane, abusive and relentless Fuckover, I want my life back, I want to be left alone, and I want to see at least 200 of you unarmed fuckers lined up against a wall, and have free reign to wield a bat with a supply of rounds to see that justice is done.