Tuesday, January 03, 2017
Some relax time here at the First Feral Family house, and to add some reflections on this past week.
And recount some things from today, my perp-abetting mother in fine form, putting on the power-ditzing act again. Making out to be a hard of hearing ditz, in public of course and when shopping. Not only does she needs things repeated, and at louder volume, she gets terms and words crossed up, and constantly needs to be corrected. And adroitly asking irrelevant questions of the the sales assistants, particularly timed to hold up the financial transaction, a long running high-Fuckove/stalk moment. Now post Christmas, it is without the surge of gangstalking assholes around, tailing me from aisle to aisle, and no chocolates section at LD this time.
This time it was two garden centers, in the quest for supplies to fix up the raised beds that are rotting out. I dug one bed up two days ago, and was treated to the aircraft noise show in part as I was digging up old compost. Compost is another perp fixation as regular readers will know. And too, the adjacent (8' away) of the cedar hedge roots ran inside the landscape barrier fabric, but inside the untreated wood and rotted it out from the inside. Now the plan is to put pots directly on landscape fabric, but bounding the whole thing so that raccoons cannot feed upon the planted seeds and ripening produce.
My farm-worker friend came around for a hike this morning, and we went to the park where I took Ms.C back in 2003 on her only visit to Victoria. (She from Everett, WA). The outing was timed to continue to delay me in taking down the chicken and stucco wire fencing of the above mentioned raised bed, as these formed the fence around it, (two in fact). And yes, metal fencing (and mesh) is another big perp deal, going back to 1800 when they hounded James Tilley Matthews, TI-0, with "air looms" (a loom shed which is made of steel wires spanning parallel wood supports. This was featured in the book, "The Air Loom Gang", since re-titled "The Influencing Machine" (UK) or, "A Visionary Madness" (USA), the latter title to hype the mental instability angle the author (or publisher?) is playing up. (Also at Good Reads, the "Linda" authored review seems to be fair minded). Nowadays, the modern perp prop is shopping carts, usually the metal rod fabricated kind. And so, farting about with steel fencing is similar, all those cross welded wires. (And it may be why the perps like me to work in vineyards and trellis wires, now 5 years worth).
A pre-Christmas event was to take my mother to the Silver Threads Center and have a dinner with the duckies, the old folks. There was at least 120 or so, mostly with white hair, and the odd dye job. The woman next to me had just come off surgery, she telling me this with a certain penetrating gaze, somewhat uncharacteristic of her as it turned out. There was a serving staff of some 10 or so, and they were known to the community of duckies there. (My mother and I were invited, and she has no prior association with the organization or location). Anyhow, there was one woman server, and for the moment, I will name her as the Attractive Black Haired Woman, (ABHW) She was 40-ish and attractive with black shoulder length hair, and a ready and natural smile. And lo, if she didn't spend much of her time crossing my visual path to the stage, and often stopping there for me to see her in profile as well (welcomed too), a common perp tactic.
There were two door prizes at this event, and lo of all coincidences, if the woman beside me (who had recent surgery) didn't win one prize. Which was a perfect excuse for the ABHW to come to our table and place herself between us to deliver the door prize and chat to this woman and wish her well on her recovery. Call it a "babe-in-close, but without any direct engagement event"; a mouthful for sure, but it is most odd that the perps still need to incrementally add someone attractive into my proximity after the "warm up" posing she had done until then. Following the dinner there was a one hour concert and as far as I could tell, she was sitting on the side and enjoying the concert like anyone else.
The ABHW wasn't done yet, as she also was on door duty at the end of the event, and lo, if my mother and I weren't the first ones to leave, everyone else holding back, another common perp crowd management technique I Have come to know. She had time to accompany us out the door for the first 10', guiding us with her LED flashlight even if the exit was well lit. (The ABHW was also outside when we arrived, on parking duty). So, whoever she was, she got full coverage; outside in the dimming light on arrival, inside for the 2 hour event, and then, outside when departing. Anyhow, I find it interesting that after 14.5 years of stalking, insane harassment, staging my every move and moment, the perps still need to arrange babe-visage time in this incremental and incidental (appearing) fashion. Just what is this all about? The perps tell me telepathically they are eliminating all my dopaminergic reactions to attractiveness and aesthetic form; be it females, (form, figure, clothes, face etc.), interesting designs and art, and all other such intrinsic human reactions.
Though the perps also tell me that this whole arranged charade is a "warm up" to their long running plan (the ML notions they constantly plant in mind), for a real romantic event. They don't get it; just leave me the fuck alone, I have had enough.
And of course, the perps telepathically inserted romantic notions over ABHW for the whole evening. And in nearly all these such events, they made sure I noticed that she had no wedding ring. And as always, my native and unfettered reaction is no romantic considerations are warranted; I am a TI with everyone knowing about it (probably in advance), and my life is governed and mind controlled to my every breath and notion, I am 20 years older than her, I earn piss-all and have no savings, and in this case, I live in another town, so forget it. Normal and reasonable reactions are not allowed in TI World; unreasonable romantic notions must be inserted even if it is the last thing I would consider on my own.
And what is it about having prostate cancer that begets such a yawn from those who should care, aka, give a shit? My farm worker friend says, "you are fit and healthy, you should be OK", which is similar to what the treating naturopath said to me in November. Another lady at the laundromat, said that I was smart and I should be OK. My former landlady wasn't too moved either, and she is the caring kind and works at a care home for crissakes. Many men die from this disease, and to get any kind of empathetic registry cannot be had in this bullshit storm I am kept in.
My daughter came over to visit today, per plan. Except that she came early and the perps got me up late so I had no breakfast and was still in the shower when she arrived. (Another perp manipulation in full form here at the First Feral Family house is to screw with my wake up time and ensure I run out of time to shower or shave).
A blonde babe at the opposite table provided major distraction, speaking with a man facing opposite, back to me.
And as it "happpened", two blonde women arrived at the table behind me too. My daughter is blonde-ish too.
finally, a decent weather day, and I got out to "root among the roots", taking these two raised beds apart as one was invaded by cedar hedge roots, and the other by pine tree roots. No doubt the perps got great mileage out of this, as they are are obsessed with plant roots. In this case the roots were above ground, mostly circulating around the beds between the barrier fabric and the milled logs that made the bed. The logs were mostly rotted out, and the barrier fabric held up pretty well, but still roots were getting in and feeding from the soil that was put there to support the vegetable plantings.
And no activity involving digging soil or composting goes without an accompanying noise parade. The Noise Maker Neighbor, got out his power washer and washed one of the two Ford pick up trucks that frequent the place, opposite the First Feral Family house. Then came on a moderate amount of aircraft noise, then neighbors on either side, both away since Dec. 20 to my limited knowledge arrived", and did their backyard activities, including putting young kids out on one side.
Accompanying my power ditzing perp abetting mother on a shopping trip again; plenty of back and forths to get things she "forgot" at the supper market. Another ditz move, besides her erstwhile dithering and doddering, is to stay in place and block aisles, or better yet (from the perp pespective), aisle junctions. And then have the cluster fucking stalkers line up behind her, and I get to inform her she is blocking the aisle. As if she didn't know. She serves as the best excuse to slow me down in supermarkets and any other perp venue, as my normal (by myself) routine is that if I sense I am getting stalked I walk faster and/or get the fuck out of there ASAP.
I got the Penticton "come-from"behind" stalking treatment here in Victoria while at the gangstalk prone RB Market. I was at the mushrooms, a long standing perp interest food, (more than most), and this blonde woman in yellow sneakers came up from behind and reaches out for something high up, her arm suddenly arriving in my peripheral vision. My standard reaction to these personal space intrusions is to then move out of range entirely, and then of course, the stalker gets to occupy the very space that I stood upon in short order. I didn't get an "excuse me" out of this asshole (but cute) blonde, which exactly replicates public shopping behavior that I first experienced in Penticton. Now it erupts here in Victoria. Not to mention that my peripheral vision gets tested, a long running perp Fuckover stunt. Naturally, she, and a regular retinue of stalkers crossed my path at least 3x each in this ridiculous gangstalk-athon that is my public life.
All a warm up for slinging compost this afternoon in my mother's back yard. The garden help (Farmworker Friend) hasn't been too diligent on cleaning up the yard as she is supposed to do, so I get to attend to cleaning up the organic debris field she leaves.
I am getting dithered in not getting this posted, so I will launch this anyhow, as I don't see getting this completed.