1430h
This will be a very short posting as I am due to embark on a First Feral Family visitation and stayover on a Sunday. There has been the usual noise flurries and noise activity to dog my every move, even farting gets noisestalked, those being remotely invoked farts at that. Usually the chair creaks at the very same instant, and I get loud vehicle noises just before, during or immediately after unloading an imposed fart. Such is the life I am confined to, deliberating on the coincidence of farts.
Just to finish this topic off; I wondered for decades as to why I farted everytime in a library, deep into the stacks where no one else was around, someone "happened" to come by within 20 seconds or less. This goes back to childhood days and I always pondered why I couldn't be left alone to fart. Well, as it so happens, it was scripted and arranged, just like all other flukes of the past.
And today's big perp event was for me to have soup, the first in years, and one that was bought frozen. As it was orange in color, and made from squash and pumpkins, this was likely a big deal as I have been hounded by orange dressed gangstalkers at every turn. Even the doctor got in on the act, even if looked pathetic in his ill-matched clothes.
There is also some kind of word repitition the perps like over the word "soup". When my social worker was telling me about the programs availible, she happened to mention that soup was availible there, more times than she needed to. Then I was let in on my recall of my long past of my father being such a obdurate boor about wanting his soup for lunch, in his usual manner of unspoken expectation. It became the word about which I attached a significant amount of his personality to, and I suppose even that was scripted, creating words which had emotionaly scar wounds. Nowadays, the perps augment my recall with these injected thoughts, timed to emulate associative recall. And if I had long forgotten this association, which I had, then why in the fuck do I have a multi-billion dollar per year budgeted organization on my back creating recollections that should be long buried. Fucking sick and depraved, and as I wrote that I got a two siren cascade to invoke some kind of deeper neural activity for my mind keepers.
The plasma and maser action has been constant so far today, in my peripherial vision every moment my eyes are open. I was awakened in the night to listen to some more vehicle noises again, this perpetual improbability of hearing outside traffic noise as such a high volume some six stories up, and never mind that they would be so improbable to always "happen" when awakened.
I am to take the bus to my parent's place, owing to some concocted reason/fabrication from my mother. I wonder if the passenger count will approach reality, say 5 other passengers instead of 25 or more, all posted operatives putting on their various shows; racial, plastic, both racial and plastic bearing, guitar stalking, big hats, business suits, blonde reference models, geriatrics all in various clothing colors, and the rest of the demographic panoply I am exposed to at every turn when out in public.
That is going to be today's blog posting, short and acerbic with enough typo sabotage to have this run over double its current length, but hopefully the typos are all expunged.
Showing posts with label fart harassment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fart harassment. Show all posts
Sunday, August 26, 2007
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Post Monday Fall Out
1655h
As predicted, because last night is a Monday, the perps kept up their intensified harassment to the end by keeping me awake for over an hour in bed, flipping my head from one side to the other, and listening to the orchestrated grunts and groans of putative residents of this rooming house, as well as vehicular traffic that repeats on each side that I am lying on.
I am getting about the 20th loud mufflered vehicle "happening" to be within earshot over the past half hour. Some room shaking is augmenting this noise flurry, as is the wind and the orchestrated window rattling noise. This latter noise is a new feature, only happening since two weeks ago. It is amazing how many more noises have "surfaced" as regular daily events in the past three months, the floorboard squeaking being another. No floorboards squeaked when I first checked out the room, and now they magically do, under the bed, and exactly where I stand to cook and open the fridge. Nothing new as to the circumstances of squeaky floors.
It was a wildland restoration outing morning, followed by a lunch at the drop-in center, and then a yoga session with the very red colored stomach contents from lunch. Naturally each of those exercises was fraught with gangstalkers and other feints that fit the pattern of harassment, and for starters, I got family lookalikes as I entered the drop-in center property.
As I entered the gateway (narrowed path), a gangstalker with a cigarette "happened" to be walking away from the drop-in center, and we crossed paths at exactly the narrow gateway. And this fucker had the height and posture of my father, as well as wearing the same colored coat as me, an olive drab color. At first glance I took him to be a morph-over of my father, but one can never be sure.
Then as I was about to ascend the stairs, a brother lookalike also "happened" to be coming down the stairs to where I was. He had a bigger gut, and wasn't quite the same facially, but as I have seen my brother, without benefit of a morph-over, on missions before, he very well could of been the second perp-helping asshole.
Later, he parked his bald head in the gazebo where the smokers hang out, and the window behind him happened to be removed, and there was a view of his bald head, and a gangstalker/operative on each side of my view, like sentries again. And it does seem to me that the sentry's job is to obstruct my field of view at times, as they do this on the bus and have an operative stand where there are plenty of seats and talk to the driver (likely an operative too).
Anyhow, the first two gangstalkers I see in close at the drop-in center are family lookalikes, both in height, form and a general look, and both had cigarettes in hand, the "space-time" ripper as J K Harms calls any fire or combustive event.
When setting off to the drop-in center from this putative rooming house, as I opened the door, an operative was headed straight for me 2' asway, looking backwards with his navy blue hoodie up, and there was nothing of significance to see. One likely result of this stunt was to have the fucker pass me on my right side, a situation the gangstalkers assiduously attempt everywhere I go. And usually, they follow a color sequence, getting their operatives to act like ambulatory idiots. Never in my life have I seen something so idiotic as approaching a door looking backwards at fuck all.
Another stunt of the perps this morning was to have an oncoming ambulatory gangstalker with a ball cap on with a race-variable look. They put a big shadow under his ball cap so he looked black from 40' away, then at 20' away his face looked brownish like an Asian, then at 10' away, he was Caucasian (finally). The perps haven't played this one for a few weeks, but it was clever, dicking with the lighting on this asshole's face and planting the notion that is was a race based appearance and not this fucking stunt again, one I would of remembered if I hadn't been mind-fucked out of it. It was a combination walk he had; both a gamey leg and a waddle, when I usually only get one or the other.
At yoga, they changed up the mats and had me 90 degrees offset from the usual orientation. They put on two fat women in class this time, one who had been wearing some atrocious red-orange clashing coats and sweaters beforehand, and no doubt her presence was to provide "red glow' from her pre-class wardrobe. And the perps always make me look at the overflowing flesh at some point as it spills out from between garments, e.g. shirt and pants.
The tubby guy in a burgundy red shirt of last week's yoga class was mercifully not there, and my negative reaction to the sight of him might have been the reason. The perps will pull anyone in my proximity to whom I have an adverse reaction to, and most of the time I am not aware of it. I get reminded when someone makes an exit from my environs, or otherwise lies low. As it so happened, this tubby fucker glared at me before the class, and that may have been a purposeful event to precipitate a negative response. I really don't know what the perps are fishing for exactly, but there are no end of stunts to set me up for a negative response, often in the proximity of blonde women. It could quite possibly be an aura comparison attempt the perps are attempting.
I have learned all these negative reaction demographics from the perps and all the stunts they pull with the dress and appearance of the gangstalkers/operatives. Very often they will bring in a black person at the end of my journey, or else sneak them in behind me. And also, they will color match them to proximate vehicles and other landscape features. It is all very fascinating, and the all-time deliberate stunt was to have a woman dressed as an 1950's style nurse step out ahead of me, and turn and face me oncoming on the sidewalk. Only then did I, or was lead to understand, that there might have been a long-past health care worker traumatization that the perps were attempting to elicit a response to. Even since, they have been putting on full white dressed gangstalkers, a very odd color choice in this city.
And the yoga instructor is going to Australia for two weeks; it is simply amazing how many people around me get to go on a holiday in short order. I am a total gift machine for all involved assholes, shills and other detritus that circulate around me, and I am extremely pissed off that my life is in the public domain, much of which I don't even know in any detail, never mind any compensation.
Another redi-mix truck was in the vehicular gangstalk formation when transiting to Government House for the wildland work. And lo, if the street cleaner wasn't ahead of me as well, cleaning the side streets I pass as I walk along the thoroughfare of clustered vehicles in their assigned formations.
1845h
It is pound the house time, only 20 minutes after I have eaten brown colored tortillas, so that gives me a clue that the perps somehow lose track of the foods I eat in terms of their energetics. And they will of course change color in the digestion process, and past readers will know that the perps are nuts over the color of everything I see, and seem to have problems with red, green, brown and yellow the most, and often insert black, white and grey colors, usually in the form of vehicles, to act as some kind of reference base. They have had their operatives walk around me with large black or white panels on occasion, and sometimes the odd dinner plate as well.
1910h
It is now dusk time for the perps to put on more beserk harassment. This time in the form of blocking my access to the Firefox browser tabs, at least for a minute or so, I was navigationally frozen. And they often use this as an excuse into mindfucking me to shutting the whole system down and then "begetting" more fuckery on the next boot up. One stunt leads to creating the cover for the next.
And after playing around with flare colors on my glasses, something they do all the time, but rarely to the level of annoyance, they have decided to add a reflective glow to my left hand as it sits over the keyboard. And there is someone in the next door bathroom doing the gangstalking through the wall while I battle this sudden flurry of sick minded harassment.
1925h
And as I scratch a perp created nose itch, someone slammed the house again, sending vibrations into my room. As always, the timing of the "coincidences" is stellar.
2120h
I have had some relative quiet for the last hour or so, once the building knocking activity was over. There seems to be coincident noises, albeit muted, when I am reading web pages on alternate energy, especially solar and wind power. I don't own any property, so this new found interest does not fit my current circumstances, and this leads me to wonder just who's idea is this.
Anyhow, masers are flitting about as I type, and I am getting severe typo harassment.
2215h
More typo fuckery in keying in the time. I am getting some strange effects; an electric like sensation on the left side of my teeth, and some kind of annoying pain in my left femur (thighbone) with the addition of knee torquing. The assholes twist my leg below my knee to then create pain that registers in the brain regions of interest to them, which is intended to continue their research into whatever the fuck it is that they are after, as if trashing my life isn't enough after sabotaging it for 47 years. It is fucking sick/
And tonight I got a call from a TI some 90 miles away in Nanaimo. She has success in taking the game to the gangstalkers, the only harassment she gets. And she takes a spiritual approach to the situation, which she claims defeats their game. And I got the "depressed" angle again, but my defence is that if every second on your life is monitored, surveilled and controlled, then there are not many prospects for happiness, especially when it is not allowed. And the assholes took away the most helpful medication I was taking, despite the evidence of a SPECT scan that I had.
The phone call died by way of power loss on her side, so nothing was resolved. I still don't know what the deal is; is she shilling for the perps, or just doesn't get it as to how polluted my life is? I am not allowed any self determination; this whole life is scripted. And in 2006 they learned how to access specific details in my recall, so now that is played by remote application of energetics. Anyway, it is another "don't get it", as I explained to her that all my life that I have this inability to bring all the matters to mind, and from what I can tell, it always served the purpose at the time, in the context of consistent lifelong harassment scenarios.
Time to blog off, and put these mysteries behind me, that is, if I have a choice in the matter.
As predicted, because last night is a Monday, the perps kept up their intensified harassment to the end by keeping me awake for over an hour in bed, flipping my head from one side to the other, and listening to the orchestrated grunts and groans of putative residents of this rooming house, as well as vehicular traffic that repeats on each side that I am lying on.
I am getting about the 20th loud mufflered vehicle "happening" to be within earshot over the past half hour. Some room shaking is augmenting this noise flurry, as is the wind and the orchestrated window rattling noise. This latter noise is a new feature, only happening since two weeks ago. It is amazing how many more noises have "surfaced" as regular daily events in the past three months, the floorboard squeaking being another. No floorboards squeaked when I first checked out the room, and now they magically do, under the bed, and exactly where I stand to cook and open the fridge. Nothing new as to the circumstances of squeaky floors.
It was a wildland restoration outing morning, followed by a lunch at the drop-in center, and then a yoga session with the very red colored stomach contents from lunch. Naturally each of those exercises was fraught with gangstalkers and other feints that fit the pattern of harassment, and for starters, I got family lookalikes as I entered the drop-in center property.
As I entered the gateway (narrowed path), a gangstalker with a cigarette "happened" to be walking away from the drop-in center, and we crossed paths at exactly the narrow gateway. And this fucker had the height and posture of my father, as well as wearing the same colored coat as me, an olive drab color. At first glance I took him to be a morph-over of my father, but one can never be sure.
Then as I was about to ascend the stairs, a brother lookalike also "happened" to be coming down the stairs to where I was. He had a bigger gut, and wasn't quite the same facially, but as I have seen my brother, without benefit of a morph-over, on missions before, he very well could of been the second perp-helping asshole.
Later, he parked his bald head in the gazebo where the smokers hang out, and the window behind him happened to be removed, and there was a view of his bald head, and a gangstalker/operative on each side of my view, like sentries again. And it does seem to me that the sentry's job is to obstruct my field of view at times, as they do this on the bus and have an operative stand where there are plenty of seats and talk to the driver (likely an operative too).
Anyhow, the first two gangstalkers I see in close at the drop-in center are family lookalikes, both in height, form and a general look, and both had cigarettes in hand, the "space-time" ripper as J K Harms calls any fire or combustive event.
When setting off to the drop-in center from this putative rooming house, as I opened the door, an operative was headed straight for me 2' asway, looking backwards with his navy blue hoodie up, and there was nothing of significance to see. One likely result of this stunt was to have the fucker pass me on my right side, a situation the gangstalkers assiduously attempt everywhere I go. And usually, they follow a color sequence, getting their operatives to act like ambulatory idiots. Never in my life have I seen something so idiotic as approaching a door looking backwards at fuck all.
Another stunt of the perps this morning was to have an oncoming ambulatory gangstalker with a ball cap on with a race-variable look. They put a big shadow under his ball cap so he looked black from 40' away, then at 20' away his face looked brownish like an Asian, then at 10' away, he was Caucasian (finally). The perps haven't played this one for a few weeks, but it was clever, dicking with the lighting on this asshole's face and planting the notion that is was a race based appearance and not this fucking stunt again, one I would of remembered if I hadn't been mind-fucked out of it. It was a combination walk he had; both a gamey leg and a waddle, when I usually only get one or the other.
At yoga, they changed up the mats and had me 90 degrees offset from the usual orientation. They put on two fat women in class this time, one who had been wearing some atrocious red-orange clashing coats and sweaters beforehand, and no doubt her presence was to provide "red glow' from her pre-class wardrobe. And the perps always make me look at the overflowing flesh at some point as it spills out from between garments, e.g. shirt and pants.
The tubby guy in a burgundy red shirt of last week's yoga class was mercifully not there, and my negative reaction to the sight of him might have been the reason. The perps will pull anyone in my proximity to whom I have an adverse reaction to, and most of the time I am not aware of it. I get reminded when someone makes an exit from my environs, or otherwise lies low. As it so happened, this tubby fucker glared at me before the class, and that may have been a purposeful event to precipitate a negative response. I really don't know what the perps are fishing for exactly, but there are no end of stunts to set me up for a negative response, often in the proximity of blonde women. It could quite possibly be an aura comparison attempt the perps are attempting.
I have learned all these negative reaction demographics from the perps and all the stunts they pull with the dress and appearance of the gangstalkers/operatives. Very often they will bring in a black person at the end of my journey, or else sneak them in behind me. And also, they will color match them to proximate vehicles and other landscape features. It is all very fascinating, and the all-time deliberate stunt was to have a woman dressed as an 1950's style nurse step out ahead of me, and turn and face me oncoming on the sidewalk. Only then did I, or was lead to understand, that there might have been a long-past health care worker traumatization that the perps were attempting to elicit a response to. Even since, they have been putting on full white dressed gangstalkers, a very odd color choice in this city.
And the yoga instructor is going to Australia for two weeks; it is simply amazing how many people around me get to go on a holiday in short order. I am a total gift machine for all involved assholes, shills and other detritus that circulate around me, and I am extremely pissed off that my life is in the public domain, much of which I don't even know in any detail, never mind any compensation.
Another redi-mix truck was in the vehicular gangstalk formation when transiting to Government House for the wildland work. And lo, if the street cleaner wasn't ahead of me as well, cleaning the side streets I pass as I walk along the thoroughfare of clustered vehicles in their assigned formations.
1845h
It is pound the house time, only 20 minutes after I have eaten brown colored tortillas, so that gives me a clue that the perps somehow lose track of the foods I eat in terms of their energetics. And they will of course change color in the digestion process, and past readers will know that the perps are nuts over the color of everything I see, and seem to have problems with red, green, brown and yellow the most, and often insert black, white and grey colors, usually in the form of vehicles, to act as some kind of reference base. They have had their operatives walk around me with large black or white panels on occasion, and sometimes the odd dinner plate as well.
1910h
It is now dusk time for the perps to put on more beserk harassment. This time in the form of blocking my access to the Firefox browser tabs, at least for a minute or so, I was navigationally frozen. And they often use this as an excuse into mindfucking me to shutting the whole system down and then "begetting" more fuckery on the next boot up. One stunt leads to creating the cover for the next.
And after playing around with flare colors on my glasses, something they do all the time, but rarely to the level of annoyance, they have decided to add a reflective glow to my left hand as it sits over the keyboard. And there is someone in the next door bathroom doing the gangstalking through the wall while I battle this sudden flurry of sick minded harassment.
1925h
And as I scratch a perp created nose itch, someone slammed the house again, sending vibrations into my room. As always, the timing of the "coincidences" is stellar.
2120h
I have had some relative quiet for the last hour or so, once the building knocking activity was over. There seems to be coincident noises, albeit muted, when I am reading web pages on alternate energy, especially solar and wind power. I don't own any property, so this new found interest does not fit my current circumstances, and this leads me to wonder just who's idea is this.
Anyhow, masers are flitting about as I type, and I am getting severe typo harassment.
2215h
More typo fuckery in keying in the time. I am getting some strange effects; an electric like sensation on the left side of my teeth, and some kind of annoying pain in my left femur (thighbone) with the addition of knee torquing. The assholes twist my leg below my knee to then create pain that registers in the brain regions of interest to them, which is intended to continue their research into whatever the fuck it is that they are after, as if trashing my life isn't enough after sabotaging it for 47 years. It is fucking sick/
And tonight I got a call from a TI some 90 miles away in Nanaimo. She has success in taking the game to the gangstalkers, the only harassment she gets. And she takes a spiritual approach to the situation, which she claims defeats their game. And I got the "depressed" angle again, but my defence is that if every second on your life is monitored, surveilled and controlled, then there are not many prospects for happiness, especially when it is not allowed. And the assholes took away the most helpful medication I was taking, despite the evidence of a SPECT scan that I had.
The phone call died by way of power loss on her side, so nothing was resolved. I still don't know what the deal is; is she shilling for the perps, or just doesn't get it as to how polluted my life is? I am not allowed any self determination; this whole life is scripted. And in 2006 they learned how to access specific details in my recall, so now that is played by remote application of energetics. Anyway, it is another "don't get it", as I explained to her that all my life that I have this inability to bring all the matters to mind, and from what I can tell, it always served the purpose at the time, in the context of consistent lifelong harassment scenarios.
Time to blog off, and put these mysteries behind me, that is, if I have a choice in the matter.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Room Pounding Again
1145h
After a lazy day yesterday (no blog) I am back at my room/abode in this putative rooming house, and am suffering the noise and vibration of a serial herd of operatives egressing the building by slamming the front door (everytime) and that serves at the excuse for "causal" in shaking this room/ It continues every 2 to 3 minutes, back to the frat house analogy. This room shaking spell has being going on for 20 minutes now, and I surmise that the entire population of this place (~16) has turned over at least once. The reality is that I am likely the only one who actually lives here, which would make it the same as the last location, an apartment block of 140 units on 10 floors, and the place was largely absent of tenants. This became even more clear when there was an 0400h fire alarm, and there really wasn't many residents out there on the street.
I spent the night at my parents' place, being the target of their gangstalking behaviors and routines, and with my father's pathetic dementia act, he gets excused for all kinds of bizarre behavior. Last night he was on lean-forward duty, a move long witnessed by me in the gangstalking community, and reserved usually when they are seated, and lean forward, stretching their spine for some reason related to energetics study. And true to form, each time he leaned forward a maser beam would emanate from the wall, cross the space between his back and the chair, and hit me, though thankfully, there was no impact felt. There were plenty of other plasma and masers flitting about, as well as my parents wandering in front of the TV, itself a source of magnetic radiation. And the usual hand waving and gesticulating and having their hands cross in front of their faces.
More typo assault, time to end this for now.
1415h
The noise flurries ended for an all-quiet order when I was making and eating lunch, especially when I ate a large slice of brown chocolate cake that was left over from my mother's birthday five days ago. Not that I gave her a call or a card or anything, she being the lead in serving me up for this incessant purgatory.
The hallway spraying of putative air freshener stunt just erupted in this suddenly all-quiet house. And I did not blog my early Sunday morning events, where I was awakened for the usual overhead clunking and squeaking, and additonal hallway egress, sometime around 0500h. One of the added extras then, as usually it is only the overhead clunking that I get, was the hallway air freshener sprayed at that time. More of the patently absurd, that anyone would be doing that activity at that time of day, let alone the "spray from the doorway" habit that it has lapsed into.
Other than that, an all-quiet order has gone out, and the usual creepiness, possibly a planted notion, has arisen. I have been severely creeped out in the past, and I could never figure this out until the mind-control possibility was made apparent.
1620h
The glass bashing act now continues outside, at some distance away, and I assume, is a method of correlating inside energies and detecting the same ones outside. It is all very complicated, and I am usually noisestalked and/or gangstalked anytime I enter or exit a building.
1640h
The flip-flop walk noise has been going on since I moved in, and for some reason the operative is pacing back and forth, and could well be the putative manager of this supposed rooming house. It is a noise that has always got on my nerves, and having only 2' outside my door suggests that someone knows that, and is giving me the shiv. Nothing new there, as so much of the harassment has to do with presenting favored and unfavored noises, sights, colors, beings, objects, personal comportment etc. Very often there will be a rash of Volvos around me, which was the make of my vehicle until I gave it up last year. Yesterday, when leaving driving my parents' Ford Escape, the perps put on a Volvo 245 driving by, another one turning in mid-street temporarily preventing egress, and a third parked on the street, closest to the intersection I stopped at. All this in less than 50' of road, and 30 seconds duration. What is the perps' problem?
1720h
And still the flip-flop noise continues, as the make-me-nuts annoyance of the afternoon. The pre-dinnertime period is one that attracts plenty of noisestalking as I surmise all my digestive activity is over, and now the perps can chase the energetics of neural activity with less energy noise, especially those that are sensitized by external aural events. The backbeat noise combination is one that has been chasing me for years now; adding a quieter beat onto the initial beat.
1900h
Another rile-me-up time making and eating dinner, and even doing the dishes is a pain as the perps remotely interfere with my grasp, and won't let me hang onto things in a secure manner. They need to screw me over that, and not just once. This time it is the new frypan; they won't allow it to be grasped in a normal manner and somehow mash my fingers into it, or over it. They have had the same perverse habit of preventing me from grasping the soap bottle, the same kind and color I have been using for over four years.
The assholes also flew the olive oil bottle off the fridge and onto the floor, though no spillings or breakage, and this is the third time this has "happened" in this residence. Past blogs have detailed the perp's olive oil obsession and how they constantly noisestalk me pouring it into the frypan, and on one occasion, pulled a newly purchased bottle from my hands and smashed it on the ashphalt to create an oil slick there for the remainder of my tenancy. This sick minded intrusion and defilement covers everything I do, and yet they won't show their gutless faces to expedite their sick-minded quests.
1925h
I am getting the continuous fart harassment, where it goes on for an hour or more, usually timed to outside regular noises of vehicles engines trailing off in the distance, all noisy and/or loud mufflered ones of course.
Then if that weren't enough, the fruit fly from nowhere arrives and dances about in my view, in front of this LCD display, and somehow manages to remain uncaught, when I rarely miss. Some more overhead pounding starts up, as I suspect this is a big moment while I digest the last of the brown chocolate cake after dinner, in the intensively perp stalked dusk onset period.
The perps are sending in brown colored Volvo 245's to gangstalk me these days, and there must be some kind of progress in their color fuckery games that permit this, as they never did before. And I have done the brown vehicle ownership thing in the long past, a VW Westphalia (camper van), one of my ex-wife's fuckup ideas that had more to it than I realized at the time. The engine burned out, then it would stall out at a certain point of warmness and was a regular at the shop. Even the warrantied parts didn't last the duration and had to be replaced. It was the last time I owned a VW, and that was 1983 or so, and I haven't had the inclination to consider one since, even though their vehicles are much different now. And the owners of the current model Jetta's really like them, but given that I do not have the financial resources to run a vehicle, all of them are off the table.
1950h
And continued voice-morphing all day today; a different sound of voice everytime I say something out loud, and often when I am reduced to hissing at the perps, as they are controlling my inclination to scream at their continued juvenile stunts.
2015h
And all-quiet order has gone out, and with the exception of the glass bottle bashing activity that just erupted, the perps seem to be deep into their noise abeyance period.
2200h
Some relative quiet over the past hour, save the fart harassment (remote invocation). And as an update on the toilet games, I was treated to another toilet incident at my parents' place yesterday. Their massive old-style water wasting and always dependable toilet "somehow" couldn't take all that I supplied it with, which was an small load by my standards. Five flushes later, and at least two plungings, the water would flow out when flushed, but "somehow" there was this one chunk with attached toilet paper resisted this torrent, and kept coming back, almost like a cork. And so it was that my mother "happened" to hear me swearing at the depraved sickos who fuck with every shit I take (again), and "offered help". That is, read gangstalking with me and the plunger in the close quarters of this bathroom, and this residual lump that defied both gravity and conventional hydrodynamics. Then one more plunging, and it went away. The story on this was that it was an orchestrated First Feral Family gangstalking of my shit in the toilet, and with the plunger in hand.
I cannot begin to describe how utterly pissed I am at not being able to take a shit with the certainty of it being an innocuous experience like it is for most people. I am forced to plunge toilets, take showers to clean up, have soiled underwear nearly every time, all because of some sick minded gutless and depraved assholes have some kind of bent mission where my personal circumstances are immaterial to their venal objectives. And they won't show up to account for this humiliating intrusion into my personal life, and continue to trash my existance by remote means. And worse yet, they created the neural/psychic/color problem through their own bloody minded stupidity by way of traumatizations thay they incurred in my developmental years. The perps' problem with shit, brown and everthing related to it IS NOT MY PROBLEM. So why am I being relentlessly harassed over it? I want a fucking answer.
And as I typed that rant, I got the squeaking stalk, the putative floorboards noise again, just outside my door. So much for privacy, and it is likely all of the above rant was supplied by mind control, as there wasn't any noisestalking until "I" finished the last of the paragraph.
Enough thought work for tonight, assuming that I did the thinking and not the actuation of planted thoughts and actions.
After a lazy day yesterday (no blog) I am back at my room/abode in this putative rooming house, and am suffering the noise and vibration of a serial herd of operatives egressing the building by slamming the front door (everytime) and that serves at the excuse for "causal" in shaking this room/ It continues every 2 to 3 minutes, back to the frat house analogy. This room shaking spell has being going on for 20 minutes now, and I surmise that the entire population of this place (~16) has turned over at least once. The reality is that I am likely the only one who actually lives here, which would make it the same as the last location, an apartment block of 140 units on 10 floors, and the place was largely absent of tenants. This became even more clear when there was an 0400h fire alarm, and there really wasn't many residents out there on the street.
I spent the night at my parents' place, being the target of their gangstalking behaviors and routines, and with my father's pathetic dementia act, he gets excused for all kinds of bizarre behavior. Last night he was on lean-forward duty, a move long witnessed by me in the gangstalking community, and reserved usually when they are seated, and lean forward, stretching their spine for some reason related to energetics study. And true to form, each time he leaned forward a maser beam would emanate from the wall, cross the space between his back and the chair, and hit me, though thankfully, there was no impact felt. There were plenty of other plasma and masers flitting about, as well as my parents wandering in front of the TV, itself a source of magnetic radiation. And the usual hand waving and gesticulating and having their hands cross in front of their faces.
More typo assault, time to end this for now.
1415h
The noise flurries ended for an all-quiet order when I was making and eating lunch, especially when I ate a large slice of brown chocolate cake that was left over from my mother's birthday five days ago. Not that I gave her a call or a card or anything, she being the lead in serving me up for this incessant purgatory.
The hallway spraying of putative air freshener stunt just erupted in this suddenly all-quiet house. And I did not blog my early Sunday morning events, where I was awakened for the usual overhead clunking and squeaking, and additonal hallway egress, sometime around 0500h. One of the added extras then, as usually it is only the overhead clunking that I get, was the hallway air freshener sprayed at that time. More of the patently absurd, that anyone would be doing that activity at that time of day, let alone the "spray from the doorway" habit that it has lapsed into.
Other than that, an all-quiet order has gone out, and the usual creepiness, possibly a planted notion, has arisen. I have been severely creeped out in the past, and I could never figure this out until the mind-control possibility was made apparent.
1620h
The glass bashing act now continues outside, at some distance away, and I assume, is a method of correlating inside energies and detecting the same ones outside. It is all very complicated, and I am usually noisestalked and/or gangstalked anytime I enter or exit a building.
1640h
The flip-flop walk noise has been going on since I moved in, and for some reason the operative is pacing back and forth, and could well be the putative manager of this supposed rooming house. It is a noise that has always got on my nerves, and having only 2' outside my door suggests that someone knows that, and is giving me the shiv. Nothing new there, as so much of the harassment has to do with presenting favored and unfavored noises, sights, colors, beings, objects, personal comportment etc. Very often there will be a rash of Volvos around me, which was the make of my vehicle until I gave it up last year. Yesterday, when leaving driving my parents' Ford Escape, the perps put on a Volvo 245 driving by, another one turning in mid-street temporarily preventing egress, and a third parked on the street, closest to the intersection I stopped at. All this in less than 50' of road, and 30 seconds duration. What is the perps' problem?
1720h
And still the flip-flop noise continues, as the make-me-nuts annoyance of the afternoon. The pre-dinnertime period is one that attracts plenty of noisestalking as I surmise all my digestive activity is over, and now the perps can chase the energetics of neural activity with less energy noise, especially those that are sensitized by external aural events. The backbeat noise combination is one that has been chasing me for years now; adding a quieter beat onto the initial beat.
1900h
Another rile-me-up time making and eating dinner, and even doing the dishes is a pain as the perps remotely interfere with my grasp, and won't let me hang onto things in a secure manner. They need to screw me over that, and not just once. This time it is the new frypan; they won't allow it to be grasped in a normal manner and somehow mash my fingers into it, or over it. They have had the same perverse habit of preventing me from grasping the soap bottle, the same kind and color I have been using for over four years.
The assholes also flew the olive oil bottle off the fridge and onto the floor, though no spillings or breakage, and this is the third time this has "happened" in this residence. Past blogs have detailed the perp's olive oil obsession and how they constantly noisestalk me pouring it into the frypan, and on one occasion, pulled a newly purchased bottle from my hands and smashed it on the ashphalt to create an oil slick there for the remainder of my tenancy. This sick minded intrusion and defilement covers everything I do, and yet they won't show their gutless faces to expedite their sick-minded quests.
1925h
I am getting the continuous fart harassment, where it goes on for an hour or more, usually timed to outside regular noises of vehicles engines trailing off in the distance, all noisy and/or loud mufflered ones of course.
Then if that weren't enough, the fruit fly from nowhere arrives and dances about in my view, in front of this LCD display, and somehow manages to remain uncaught, when I rarely miss. Some more overhead pounding starts up, as I suspect this is a big moment while I digest the last of the brown chocolate cake after dinner, in the intensively perp stalked dusk onset period.
The perps are sending in brown colored Volvo 245's to gangstalk me these days, and there must be some kind of progress in their color fuckery games that permit this, as they never did before. And I have done the brown vehicle ownership thing in the long past, a VW Westphalia (camper van), one of my ex-wife's fuckup ideas that had more to it than I realized at the time. The engine burned out, then it would stall out at a certain point of warmness and was a regular at the shop. Even the warrantied parts didn't last the duration and had to be replaced. It was the last time I owned a VW, and that was 1983 or so, and I haven't had the inclination to consider one since, even though their vehicles are much different now. And the owners of the current model Jetta's really like them, but given that I do not have the financial resources to run a vehicle, all of them are off the table.
1950h
And continued voice-morphing all day today; a different sound of voice everytime I say something out loud, and often when I am reduced to hissing at the perps, as they are controlling my inclination to scream at their continued juvenile stunts.
2015h
And all-quiet order has gone out, and with the exception of the glass bottle bashing activity that just erupted, the perps seem to be deep into their noise abeyance period.
2200h
Some relative quiet over the past hour, save the fart harassment (remote invocation). And as an update on the toilet games, I was treated to another toilet incident at my parents' place yesterday. Their massive old-style water wasting and always dependable toilet "somehow" couldn't take all that I supplied it with, which was an small load by my standards. Five flushes later, and at least two plungings, the water would flow out when flushed, but "somehow" there was this one chunk with attached toilet paper resisted this torrent, and kept coming back, almost like a cork. And so it was that my mother "happened" to hear me swearing at the depraved sickos who fuck with every shit I take (again), and "offered help". That is, read gangstalking with me and the plunger in the close quarters of this bathroom, and this residual lump that defied both gravity and conventional hydrodynamics. Then one more plunging, and it went away. The story on this was that it was an orchestrated First Feral Family gangstalking of my shit in the toilet, and with the plunger in hand.
I cannot begin to describe how utterly pissed I am at not being able to take a shit with the certainty of it being an innocuous experience like it is for most people. I am forced to plunge toilets, take showers to clean up, have soiled underwear nearly every time, all because of some sick minded gutless and depraved assholes have some kind of bent mission where my personal circumstances are immaterial to their venal objectives. And they won't show up to account for this humiliating intrusion into my personal life, and continue to trash my existance by remote means. And worse yet, they created the neural/psychic/color problem through their own bloody minded stupidity by way of traumatizations thay they incurred in my developmental years. The perps' problem with shit, brown and everthing related to it IS NOT MY PROBLEM. So why am I being relentlessly harassed over it? I want a fucking answer.
And as I typed that rant, I got the squeaking stalk, the putative floorboards noise again, just outside my door. So much for privacy, and it is likely all of the above rant was supplied by mind control, as there wasn't any noisestalking until "I" finished the last of the paragraph.
Enough thought work for tonight, assuming that I did the thinking and not the actuation of planted thoughts and actions.
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