Where water comes from, and its energetic interaction with yours truly, a high abuse state TI, is of constant and abiding perp interest. And today, they added some more variations on the vineyard and roads and IN my vehicle.
For starters, they pulled a water spill in my vehicle last night after yoga, almost a liter somehow spilled out of a just-purchased 4L jug of water I was taking back to my place. This was a sealed cap and somehow the water leaked out onto the front passenger foot well. The second container didn't spill somehow, and I cleaned it up with paper towels (also a perp fetish substance). I left the windows open for the night, the car being parked outside.
And today at the vineyard, a sudden need to get the irrigation going and lo, if the sprinkler heads didn't throw more water into my vehicle's open window, as it was parked on the adjacent driveway. Needless to say, I was fucking pissed about this, two in-vehicle water attacks in 24 hours.
And per "usual", walking the irrigated area to poke the debris out of a few sprinkler heads, and then to the red grape section to do the same on the low-flow sprinklers in the row. And some split hose lines to repair, in two places. The area will be irrigated for 24 hours, and as it was partial coverage, more to follow tomorrow. All to soak my ass first thing in the morning without benefit of rain gear or gumboots. And do they ever love to soak my hiking boots to change their color to a darker green and then have them slowly dry out and of course, monitor the color change effects, whatever they may be.
There are two agricultural water sources for this vineyard; a creek that has a shared weir that is some 200m upstream, and Skaha Lake, some 130' elevation lower, so it must be pumped up. There are two storage tanks on the property, and a well that is only good for grey water use.
But it seems that the creek water source might not be available this year, as the connecting 5" pipe is split in many places, having helped bring out the 30' sections over a month ago. And of course the perps have an abiding interest into which crops recieve which water from their sources, rainfall included.
A "dry storm" day again; thunder and lightning building up and passing through but no rain for the most part, just some sprinkling added to getting sprinkled from fixing the irrigation sprinkers. As it "happened' this city some 10 km away did get rained upon, something that was evident from the puddles on the ground. Obviously, driving on wet pavement from rainfall is a big deal, and I have long given up counting the street sweeping (and wetting) games that are in advance of me driving on them. Before this latest car ownership since 04-2012, it was public transportation bus trips over certain cleaned and wetted intersections and roads.
A 3 hour nap attack tonight, putting a serious hole in this Tuesday evening. Per "usual", no sleep deficit to account for this. This preceded me getting cooked chicken from the supermarket, which was my only purchase. And we know who goes berserk over cooked meats as well as carving them up. It was 30 min, of sleeping in a chair, and then 2.5 hours in lie-down mode.
My daughter deigned to call me last night, a near first since 2002, when all this shit came down, it was made plain to me that she wouldn't call. Thanks a bunch assholes
At the vineyard, I was soaked again, doing irrigation fixes; they like to arrange this with having removed my pants and in shorts, and to soak my boots and then darken them this time with bare (tanned) legs, and then examine the effects of them drying and becoming their lighter normal olive green.
No thunderstorms today, though they did arrange high cloud to tone down the sun intensity for the afternoon
I learned that last year's vineyard helper who came up from Texas to help the owners who were confined to medical issues in Vancouver BC, was in a motorcycle accident; both ankles broken and plenty of orthopedic surgery ahead for him [Motorcycle noise as I typed this up] Plenty more parked motorcycles as props today. The part I don't get is surely that this person was aiding the perps, and everything was scripted to the microsecond, and was likely compensated by now, a year later. (We got on just great). And yet, the perps go screw him by arranging for a motorcycle accident a year to the week ago, and cripple him big time. So did he sign up for this, or is there another perp layer above the gumshoes and handlers and the compensation keepers, that lays on the heavy life-altering (for weeks at least) accidents?
Not forgetting that the vineyard owners for whom I work, and who cooperate with the perps full time, got hit last year, when the fellow got hit with an unknown condition that sent him to hospital for six weeks at this critical time of vineyard work. (Not that he does much of it anyhow, but his Vancouver located medical conditions meant that his OR nurse trained wife went down to aid him). So did the owner sign up for this one, or not? I suspect the latter, as he was intensely pissy when he got back, and seemed to be resigned to these medical "irregularities" erupting.
The usual post town vehicular gangstalking silliness; made a stop at the drycleaners as I found mold on my ski jacket that had been hanging on the same hook for over a year, as I did not wear it this past winter. The third mold attack on my belongings in the last month. I suspect I will have to move out of here.
While doing the routine vineyard work, I was planted with ideations of immaginary conversations with roomies I have not yet met, the ones that lay it all up front; shared dutties, no drama expectations etc.And another lead came to a dead stop; a person advertised a roommate situation in a 1600 sq ft. condo, with a private bathroom etc. and I replied with relevant details, and he emails back within a few hours from his Iphone with his phone number. I call him, and left a message on his answering service, referencing the email and gave him my number. This person never phoned me back, and I emailed the same message the next day, and still no response. This situation isn't ideal, (a roomie of any kind), but I could of saved $400/month in rent and yet the perps screw me out of it. This is fucking tiresome to say the least, never mind expensive beyond my income level they keep me at, as a vineyard laborer for crissakes.
Some stinging eye attacks tonight of No Ostensible Cause (NOC). Then later I was so de-energized so I couldn't get up from my chair, in near sleep but not able to move. Another never-before condition I never had until this insane abuse stream came down on me in 04-2002.
At the vineyard, more water system repairs and operations; soaked to the ass in the morning for the third day in a row. The owner brings out bottled water in a red plastic cup and plants it on the repairman's deep grey Toyota truck for a few hours. It too got soaked, "happening" to be in the sprinkler range. When seeing the sprinkler water coming toward his open truck window I ran to his truck and got his keys to close the window while the owner stopped the sprinkler head from turning. Sounds so routine, but the perps totally scrambled me, and had me mess with this dumb-assed cup at first when there was a more important thing to do, close the window. Yesterday, it was my Toyota that got soaked, and as I did not leave the keys in it, unlike the repairman today, it was an object of later remarks.
Seven low-level (300' above ground) flyovers with an P-3 Orion sub tracking aircraft today, and the aircraft making no landing at the airport (4 miles away) at all. Each time it made an arc over top of where I was, some 300' above where I was, fairly low to see details of the underside. This from the above Wikipedia link:
The P-3 is equipped with a magnetic anomaly detector (MAD) in the extended tail. This instrument is able to detect the magnetic anomaly of a submarine in the Earth's magnetic field. The limited range of this instrument requires the aircraft to be near the submarine at low altitude. Because of this, it is primarily used for pinpointing the location of a submarine immediately prior to a torpedo or depth bomb attack. Due to the sensitivity of the detector, electromagnetic noise can interfere with it, so the detector is placed in P-3's fiberglass tail stinger (MAD boom), far from other electronics and ferrous metals on the aircraft.
Just to think, they sent this military aircraft from the coastline of Canada (presumably) 400 miles inland, to come and make seven passes overhead at low elevation just to sweep me and the area with the MAD (magnetic anomaly detection) device in its rearmost "stinger" tail. And have I not long complained of being kept in a high density magnetic field, some 1700 Gauss when last measured in 2009 or so? Lets make it blatant this time; no need whatsoever to have this specialized sub tracking aircraft over land areas, and yet it arrived to make seven low level passes just for this TI victim. As always, the perps should just go fuck yourselves.
And more per-worsity, as in blatant abuse support. I see the landlord had this nanny suite painted on the outside today, and lo, if the freaky painter didn't have his tray and roller and paint sitting in front of the door, forcing me to step over it before I could get inside. Brilliant timing, as always. Which might partly explain why I am running into the "painter" acts of late. Dudes in paint splotched clothing as if they just stepped off a painting job, just "happening" to be crossing the street, another one in the laundromat the next day etc.
I got totally screwed, as in a lost, (as in teleported) wallet theft today; I was screaming infuriated at this stunt as it was so fucking blatant; I stopped at a store with wallet in hand as I had no pockets, and didn't get far into the store (5') when a staff member met me and I asked about a scratch ticket I was told to bring back from two days earlier. She said no, one goes online. Fine, I turned around and departed and then drove home with extra heavy gangstalking action, including the fire department and four police vehicles blocking the street I usually take, so I had to take a detour around this green area, driving on the wrong side of the road. I looked my vehicle over most carefully, but no fucking wallet.
I went back to the store and asked there, retraced my steps, looked under vehicles that were parked over top of where I had been when it happened, and the vehicular gangstalking legions seemed to have been doubled. No fucking wallet; it didn't go anywhere but in my hand, and yet it somehow went missing. I checked all floor surfaces, including the passenger side and seat-door space, to no avail. I was so infuriated I was ready to trash this place and my vehicle (while parked) to either find it or register my total rage over this Fuckover stunt, as it happened quite often, every two years or so before they went berserk/overt in 04-2002. Since then I have had one wallet theft (2004) and one wallet trashing in the laundry in 12 years of insane fucking abuse. (Read on).
Just to think; the sole reason for this abusive insanity of being a nonconsensual human experiment subject is that the perps don't want to declare themselves to their victims. And what is the reason for that? No one knows for sure, but I suspect it has something to do with the quantum energies associated with the measurement problem, and to have a fully unsuspecting subject, though I don't know where it goes from there, and it is likely that the street walker perps don't know either. And yes, I know the link is full of quantum-babble, but the nub of it is that an observer is part of a quantum energy activity (e.g. transference, transition event etc.) and the perps need to somehow eliminate the observer by taking them over in all their quantum energetic properties. A tall order to be sure, but they have only been abusing the shit out of me, figuratively and literally for 12 years and haven't let up yet.
And was I allowed to talk directly with my daughter on her birthday today? No-sir, not allowed, per dictate of the Psychopathic Confederacy, the Relentless Abuse Division. Sure, I was allowed to "remember" (read, remotely applied recall deletion) unlike past years, but the phone tag went at least three rounds each.
And when I "happened" to check my vehicle again before setting off to do my weekly laundry at the laundromat, why, the freaking wallet was tucked between the passenger side and the door. Like WTF; I checked there at least twice and there was no fucking wallet there. So, it was either a teleport job, or else they blanked me out so I could not even know it was there while physically looking straight at it. They have been able to do object-based non-recognition games since about 2005, when one can see something and not know what it is, and then a few years later, not even see it (recognize it) while looking at the very object one is searching for at invoked consternation.
So, some new financial cards will arrive, (read new magnetic stripes), and single card for driver's licence and medical care instead of the two separate ones they formerly issued. Some cards (about four) will be retained, moved from the old wallet to the new one (read on), and of course the cash will be retained. Plus, a "spare" wallet that was (oddly) purchased extra in 2004 with the last wallet loss is now the wallet I will use. Call it a "blended wallet contents" test; new bill fold, new financial cards, some money from the old one along with some retained loyalty cards. Just to think, this is likely the culmination of a 10 year long plan to jerk me out of my wallet while having a spare one (in fallow) all this time. And why would I have brought such a useless thing when moving to Penticton in 2012?
I got a hike in today, though again, a herd at the top of McIntyre Bluff, and most strangely some five parties on the way up while I was returning, spaced about two minutes apart. They have laid off the heavy hiking gangstalk parties this year, apart from the herds at the destination, but have now returned to form with the multiple passing parties stalking.
Warm today, sunny was forecast, but lo, if a high cloud cover didn't move in and prevent any real tanning today. I was set to loaf for an hour of tanning time and they pulled this one for whatever reason. Though they did pull some sunlight on-off games later while reading The Scientist, an autobiography of John C. Lily MD. After that, came the nap attack.
I am still buzzed out from a 2.5 hour nap attack that began at 1600h, and here it is 1940h. Some sleep deficit, though they can fix that if they need to without sending me into near fugue state after the nap. Back in the high harassment days of 2002, they would have me drive the I-5 and I-90 all night and show up to work at 0800h at my IT office job and there would be absolutely no problem of tiredness. Once I would get back to my apartment at the end of the working day, say 1700h, the head pain beams would start up and I would only find relief by driving in my vehicle for another night time adventure, maybe picking up a few hours at a rest area, and perform another day of office work without tiredness.
I have never been a nap person until all this came down, but for the rare event, I would never suffer these incredible sufferings of being awake and not have the energy/ability to get up for a half hour or more, which is nearly standard for these nap attacks, perp induced of course.
And it is a good way to put a hole in one's day, forcing them off their intended accomplishment task list, also another perp interest item.
Anyhow, a tumultuous week has passed, all to ponder the games for this week.
A new "follower" I see this week; welcome to Malice In Blunderland, a near 60 year old MKULTRA case gets unconventionally abused nonstop for 12 years and counting and his family was in on it from the get-go. (Hence calling them the First Feral Family). And the abuses of three recall deleted years when aged 2 to 5, are a seeming problem for the rest of the human nonconsensual experimentation objective, so they inundate me with orchestrated abreactive freaks and follies to undo their psychic wreckage I was unaware of. It gets worse, but that is enough for anyone to be introduced to.