Sunday, April 22, 2012

Ten Years On

April 15, 2002 was when the perps first struck in a shock and awe invasion on my apartment. That was the day my income tax was to be submitted, this in Seattle. But they scrambled me so I couldn't get it done, which was most uncharacteristic of me. I got nailed for a late filing fee, and for the perps, that is just what they like doing, jerking me around at every turn.

First, they had me fall asleep on my apartment floor, after visiting the 24Hr Fitness, where they arrived with seeming guns under their track outfits. My medications that went missing from my locked locker had somehow arrived back in my apartment by themselves. After a sleep, I was packed in, held aloft by six men, and then placed meon the floor, possibly forced into another sleep. Upon waking up, they flashed lasers, masers and plasma beams at me in my apartment, making it to seem if it was to be a police invasion for some reason I could not fathom, as I had done nothing wrong. There were brown colored light flashes which caused me to collapse in sudden tiredness. There were noises that came from nowhere, there were small batteries that appeared from nowhere and were self propelled along the carpet. There was a steel screwdriver that folded and draped, unbidden by any conventional cause. They appeared to be cutting a hole in the floor from underneath, though there was no evidence of this afterward. The door was shifting sideways in the door jam, again, no conventional explanation, as in why didn't they just barge in? And when off to work the next day, some wierd dude was sitting in the chair near the door, my very first gangstalker as it turned out, and the assholes haven't let up since.

I didn't make it to work that day, a Monday, and yet no one phoned and no one said anything, and there was no administrative inquiry as to where I was. Probably because they were watching the apartment invasion live in some kind of situation room, as my former boss, and present boss "happened" to both be away that day. And lo, if my boss wasn't a former CIA agent, doing their bidding in Vietnam, and now in the health care informatics business. But as they say, there is no such thing as a "former CIA agent", just wearing different spots.

Back to the 10th anniversary. building a compost pile at the First Feral Family house/yard, then a two hour break for seeing the farm worker colleague ex (with her there too) for a "free" laptop PC, then more compost slinging, then lunch followed by a visit to the supposed dementia suffering father, one half of the asshole parent team that put this insane curse on me. Then return, and back to the compost, slinging it and getting the mighty (4'W x 8'L x 4'H)pile built in layers of advanced compost, this year's leaves and non-weed vegetative discards, and some compost accelerant.

How was I to know that ten years ago I would be putzing on compost heaps, one of the perp's most compelling obsessions? And in addition to the artful breaks, per above, in getting a compost pile built, the noisescape all the while was kids yelling, lawnmowers, yappy dogs, overhead B-52's, a black helicopter again (same one), and the vehicular racetrack noise that San Juan Ave. has become.

This is the fourth attempt to type this in, the assholes are hyper-abusive tonight.

A drive from Victoria to Penticton yesterday, taking the ferry, and getting fucked into a route to Hwy 1 where they took out the entrance ramp. This forced me to head into Vancouver over the Port Mann bridge, to get to the next exit, cross over the highway, and get E. bound, as originally intended. Naturally, they didn't post the highway modifications anywhere, as it always seems to "happen" that I get fucked into heading in the wrong direction.

And two outrageous women drivers when I arrived on Highway 97, from 97C; one who had to pass when I was already going the speed limit, and then one following who was attempting to get by in the L lane after the R one was tapered out. So here I was with the white vehicle beside me, only one lane, and on the shoulder avoiding collision contact. I rarely experience any wacko women drivers, and here I get two, one after the other, members of the white, silver-grey and greyscale vehicle color contingent to accompany  me. Three silver-grey vehicles were ahead as part of the consort.

And 3x airflight booking, and still don't know if it worked; same deal three weeks ago when I attempted to book. This time it got more ugly due to this ridiculous auto-response system, and the perps making me fuck it up by forcing me to do throat clearing. Thankfully the live person was helpful.

Vineyard work today, tying canes down to the trellis wire; and all manner of forced/designed fuck-ups I would never make myself. relentless pulling items from my hands- typing tape or wire. Then the tape breaking by itself, with inexplicable failures when it can be tensioned considerably. And lots of side chat from the white trash gang/coworkers- plenty of faked throat clearing while working on the canes, especially when I am attention switching, about the last vestige of mind activity the perps cannot yet remotely control or otherwise fuck with.

Internet access is clobbered tonight; so slow, and so many pages timing out, sometimes immediately (go figure). The perps like me to be listening to Iris Dement, a long time favorite with me finally catching up on her lastmost album, Lifeline.

A sudden room shaking thud and a zap up my spine, just as I was switching my attention to something else. Now, a second room shaking thud with a lesser zapping experience. I swear at them again.

I got fucked into doing vineyard pruning in street shoes when I always wear my hiking boots. And a red burned face, even if I used SPF 60 sun block on my face, applied twice. And constant perp fucking with my fingers and motor control, pulling tape, wire or plants from my hands and then again, up to 6x per plant to make sure I was the slowest worker.

Two evenings without internet access, the assholes having shut it down, and I couldn't get to the college's internet access yesterday, because the library closes early on Fridays. And we worked late to finish this dreamy block of vines, overlooking Lake Osooyos. Though steep, at 40%, and we were raking out the rows to ensure the prunings were in the middle to be chipped up by a flail mower.

Today, with the vineyard block next to Highway 98, S. of Oliver, the perps put on excessive numbers of motorcycles all day, at least 300 in dribs and drabs of two or three at a time, an equal number in each direction. And no less, putting at least one on top of a flatbed tow truck to thereby remove the motorcycle operation and rider from the total energetic analysis equation.

Now, they put the noise on here, all evening. There is no bike meet to account for so many, and it is still April and it cannot be tourist season yet. It is a Saturday, but surely this isn't going to be the norm? The perps have a consistent pattern of exploiting my ignorance of traffic patterns in cities that I don't know, e.g. Penticton where I am, and all other places in the Okanagan.

A severe vision attack while driving back from vineyard work, and I am still recovering some two hours later. The stinging eyes trick, often correlated to my use of sunblock, even if I put it below my eyes so it doesn't drip in from my forehead. First it was the L eye for 10 minutes of highway driving, then it was the R side when I reached downtown Penticton. My eyes were so red that I had to give doing errands after I dropped off my work colleague off. Then they arranged three young (about 12 yo.) girls to be running down the middle of the street and straight across a roundabout, one about to enter my exit path, and forcing me to stop, and then proceeding just as I was to proceed, and finally the kid had the sense to go behind the vehicle. I don't think I have seen anything so fucking blatant and organized as this before, but if nothing else, it is a stream of firsts for human strangeness.

A day off work to attend to other perp staged "needs". First being to resume the tanning to keep myself ready for the blazing sunshine of this locale. Then to LD to get batteries for the remote key entry fobs for the vehicle, both running out at the same time and needing replacement. I got the size from the Toyota manual, and lo, if it wasn't wrong altogether, forcing me to get another battery, back to the LD store in the afternoon. Then out to get cleaning and wipers for the vehicle; vehicle windshield mess and wipers and their tracks are big Fuckover stages for harassment. Once I bought new wiper blades, and then a few days later I see it laying a track on the windshield, and on further inspection I see that the assholes had nicked the wiper blade so it missed some water as it passed by.

And senseless amounts of motorcycle noise, hotrod noise, and ill-maintained muffler noise all day today; 5 to 8x/minute, and somehow getting through my earmuffs as "needed" by the mind-keepers. This noise has been arranged for when I am out doing errands, or inside this motel suite that I rent by the month. If I don't like motorcycle noise, then why in the fuck is it a ten year noise obsession to arrange this everywhere I go?

Still no progress of a semi-permanent vineyard job; a sudden dry-up of only five in the last five weeks. This temporary gig is only because the Mexicans are late arriving, and we know who looks after these kinds of things. This is getting to piss me off considerably, as now that I have a vehicle, and vineyard work training, and no reason why I couldn't do such work, and yet no advertised jobs all of a sudden. That the national job bank went down for three weeks in late Febuary and early March didn't help either.


Anonymous said...


Anonymous said...

You really are mind controlled. You probably don't even realize that you type in a sort of code
that affects different visitors in different ways - some positive, and some negative.

But then again, since your mind controlled you are just following the directives of your programmers.

George Orwell would be shocked at how much worse society has turned out to be then even his anti-Utopian nightmare.

Have you read some of the writings of a person named Diana Napolis?

She also believes in teleportation, and has claimed that our entire planet has been teleported by some force of demonic energy, which is now controlling the human race.

Scary stuff...

AJH said...

Answer to: You really are mind controlled....

Yes, I know that, and the skits and games that go on reiterate the fact many time in a day. When one has been covertly surveilled and monitored since birth (my estimation of the facts), they know me better than I do. Furthermore, since the assholes deleted most of my recall, aged two to five years old, they have additional knowledge about me that I don't know. The Freakshow gangstalker parade (of the Unfavoreds) seems to be emulating conditions related to past clerical, clinical and military involvement.

I have read some of Diana Napolis, and she is much closer to the real truth of this planet's governance that most realized. Still, the big question, what are they evaluating/experimenting on humans for? I believe it is some universal energetic signature, perhaps to readily control all life by fundamental means. Thanks for the comments.