11-12-2018
A Monday off work due to the national holiday yesterday, Rememberance Day. Though in fact, I did work yesterday on the construction site. Nice that there were so few trades around as I could get things done. My regular co-worker was with me for part of the day, but as we ran out of glue to finish the job, only part of it could get completed for the afternoon. Said co-worker is the one who threw a passive-aggressive hissy fit three weeks ago over a big nothing, another one of those "what was that about" experiences that have come on since all this abuse and harassment came down in 04-2002. Said co-worker is a little more friendly and talkative since then, and a two week work separation hiatus might of helped. The day after his ridiculous hissy fit he was re-assigned, hardly a coincidence, though I never told anyone anything and he said he wouldn't either. He has mellowed a little, and isn't so strange as he was before, since I began working with him in 09-2018. A Russian emigre, and true to form, cannot be figured out. Anyhow, we get a lot done together, and that suits each of us just fine as we are both accomplishment minded and like to do things efficiently.
And a hiatus from yoga again, due to today's holiday, and the perps just love to break up regular occurences, no matter the frequency; once per week to once per day etc. No good habit or regular practice goes undisrupted (or unsabotaged). Last week it was a Monday night show, so it will be three weeks since I get back to class unless I somehow join a class this week, a notion that curiously escapes me when these Monday night yoga disruptions come on.
The last class was a repeat of classes some six weeks ago, when the very dark skinned E. Indian arrives in class at the last minute and sits beside me at a spot that was left open. How this particular entrance timing and mat location selection "happens" so many times for this one particular individual cannot be a coincidence. Not only was a prime mat location left open for him while some 15 other yogis filed in beforehand in th preceding 15 minutes, but it the whole thing tells me that everyone else was arriving according to a schedule and in accordance to a seating plan. In seating himself beside me, this E. Indian male also "happened" to place himself in front of the mirror reflection of this pretty blonde girl I had been checking out for the prior 15 minutes. So, instead of her gorgeous visage in the mirror, I get the fugly E. Indian male, a regular in terms of stalking next to to me. (Another case of bait and switch; babe, and then the fugly dude arrives later in her place). And again liek the last time, the poor fellow got too hot and had to remove his shirt for crissakes. I think they should ban this practice and have everyone keep their shirts on in yoga class. I suppose this whole deal is about exposing me to a whole lot of dark skin from 4' away, something I wouldn't ordinarily be exposed to for any length.
And the E. Indians continue to plague me at the construction site. Anytime I change a floor that I am working on, or re-assigned to a new task, they "happen" to arrive or else already be in place, jabbering away. I am down for three of these events this week, normally at least two more per week. In a stunt of high absurdity, they even parked themselves on ladders immediately outside the elevator doors that I was to exit from. The elevator operator had to ask them to pack it up. Again, more ladder games, this time from a high-prominence stalking ethnic subpopulation.
A good show at The Dream Cafe last week, and although I did not get any protracted staring from the performers, I got a lot of direct looks from one of the threesome. At one point he said, "I truly believe that good will prevail in this world..." and then shot a look at me, some 40' away against the back wall and in the dark. Like WTF: don't look at me for any kind of affirmation on that; all I know is sustained and relentless abuse as a mind controlled subject, and knowing my family was in on it from the get-go and are therefore are a bunch of sick-assed perfidious quislings who should be given the usual war time justice for such ilk.
My vineyard employer had a harvest party this Thursday; "no kids" said the invitational text, and lo, there were at least four of them parading by me with the usual (perp patented) "look-away" countenance. As to why I get kiddie-stalked all the time I have no idea, but I consider it the apogee of mental depravity, to send or bring one's children into stalk a lifetime victim of senseless and relentless abuse. For those parents who send their children on these missions, go fuck yourselves.
Said harvest party was about three hours and I met up with some old faces, my foreman, the owners (employers) and a few others. I met some new winemakers and industry folks, and enjoyed the company. An interesting looking woman I hadn't seen before was across the room, and eventually when she "happened" to look my direction from 15' away, she had this disparaging and nasty look. OK, I get it; you got my attention and then made sure I was roundly disappointed. I know this routine, and don't consider it too different than the occasions at the hair stylist school where I get my hair cut, when a personable and talkative stylist first cuts my hair. Some six weeks later on my return visit the same stylist won't even look at me, and makes a big point of been seen but not being in any way friendly. Same old thing; bait and change, usually for the worse.
And I get the sense that my perceptions of many of the stalking and stunts that so well known to me over these past 16.5 years of this berserk and overt abuse are getting remotely dithered by the perps. That is to say, my identification (or cognition) of the fraught and torturous reality that I have been kept in, (the stunts and incidents and their relationship to past patterns), and which is immediately recognizable and familiar to me, is now being cognitively interfered with. For example, the above mentioned kiddie stalking only "occurred" to me some hours after the event when normally I would of identified it right then and there. Which is to say, the perps have begun a new phase of deleting my knowledge of their abusive methods as they occur. Not a good sign, and likely has more ominous ramifications. Or put another way, the assholes won't allow me to identify their relentless and consitent stunts and supporting routines as they occur.
Anyhow, I should get this one posted for the week so I don't get backed up.
Showing posts with label ladder stalking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ladder stalking. Show all posts
Monday, November 12, 2018
Wednesday, October 10, 2018
Thanksgiving
10-07-2018
That would be Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada. No work this long weekend, and of course, no overtime. And no invites to the vineyard I helped out last year, worth $200/day for my grape picking efforts, not to mention one day of running the forklift for them. I also was supplied with dinner out of the deal, and as I am on good terms with this former employer, I thought that there would be a return invite, as in prior years. But no, and if I have it right, I would assume my manipulators have their own reasons for keeping me house bound this long weekend.
The perp assholes have been pulling door thumps on my residence each evening of late, only one or two each day, and often coincident when I come to some realization, usually from a thought process that is idling in the back of my head. It is a single thump, not a knock, and of course, there is no one there. Not that I look, as I have been conditioned to regard these unconventional noise/vibration intrusions as "its the Thems again".
Another week of construction laboring passed, and it was relatively OK. The usual increased flux of dudes around me, often when I just get to a room to do work, or else when transiting hallways and turn a corner. The elevator egress is also fraught with games too.
Though the E. Indian workers (cleaners and dry wallers), are a particularly "sticky" bunch, meaning that they always seem to be hanging around me, and made themselves little more annoying this week. Not only from their jabbering when around me, and being particularly frequent in my proximity, but also distinguishing themselves by being particularly rude. Not only do they not communicate, or even engage in opening doors or allowing passage in tight places, (normal for all other construction workers), but they seem to come on in surges around me. As I see it, I have done my "E. Indian time", listening to them all day long when working in vineyards, sometimes for months, though never a full season. And so, here they are again, a particularly featured stalking subpopulation for whatever perp reason sits behind all this. (Perhaps because my brother married one?)
Today, as I was handling a pallet in the hallway of the construction site, where the egress was constrained by the pallet where my co-worker and I had been working and just completed unloading, why, an E. Indian threesome of males "happens" to pass by, and one of them collides with me and keeps on going. That this crowd doesn't do "sorry" isn't news to me, but as I see it, you either fit in or go home. Anyhow, having stalkers run into me isn't new either, but having brown skinned ones go this rude on me is a new one. And of course, any time I am handling pallets begets extra flushes of dudes around me, but this time it was the E. Indian's turn. So go fuck yourselves, all the stalkers for that matter. And for that matter, civic manners should be part of the citizenship test, and if they fail, they go home. Same for learning English. I don't know why we have to put up with this seditious government sponsored nonsense.
That this same crowd had the elevator stuffed with four step ladders for one of my trips down from my working floor to the first floor later in the day didn't surprise me. I don't know what the deal is about the perps and step ladders, or any kind of ladder for that matter, but it was a signature stalking prop from the get-go when all this shit rained down on me, 04-2002. As in the perps, who had been surreptitiously following and arranging my life suddenly went berserk/overt and made it known that they considered me a Prime Victim and introduced me to their unconventional technologies and malevolent and relentless abuse.
And I suppose, one of two of them strutting around on stilts in my proximity for drywall work was also part of the plan, as the perps just love to have their stalkers at a different elevation from me, often by using stairs or like.
The disposable booties work place wearing requirement is still going on, though running out of steam. They went through 5,000 pairs in three days and haven't been able to keep up, putting bins up at the exit doors, where one can re-use booties placed there from others. Never mind that these retread booties are in terrible shape, and it also does cause me to wonder what the management is thinking when they want workers to fish through the bins to find pairs that can survive being put on, never mind re-use.
The owner of the millwork firm for whom I work came to visit the work site for two days this week; he seems like a decent guy, and not one of those relentless hard asses that I so often meet. He even took us all out for drinks and dinner at a nearby pub later. I chatted with him for a time, about the business and related matters. Gosh, I was treated like a normal for once, and not given the usual looks of dread and tension I get.
And the reason for a missed yoga class the prior week came into focus; a new yoga instructor. I believe it has been an everytime event now; whenever a new instructor comes on, (usually unbeknownst to me), they have me miss the first class. And after stalking my ass in yoga with tattoo cases of other yogis in my proximity, why, they now have this new instructor plastered with this fugly body mutilation. All over her arms no less, and quite a gross-out. At best, past instructors had a little tattoo on their foot or something, but this is quite the unavoidable tattoo show.
The new instructor has a more demanding tone and is less inclined to be chatty or relaxed. It has been apparent over the last five years of yoga that they have, in prior years, pulled such instructors in short order and replaced them with more friendly ones. It would seem that this instructor is returning to that fold they were testing me out in prior years; the tone and nature of the instructor's verbal delivery also seems to be a big deal for the perps.
And too, the yoga class underwent a major re-population (same class, same day and time); hardly any of the recent regulars, and to my relief they seemed to have dispensed with the E. Indian that was hounding my ass for the last 8 weeks. I have never figured out how the yoga class gets populated, apart from the Unfavored specimens being injected, as it seems there are hardly any regulars beyond 3 months.
Anyhow, I am late in getting this posted, and I shall cut the news off for now.
That would be Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada. No work this long weekend, and of course, no overtime. And no invites to the vineyard I helped out last year, worth $200/day for my grape picking efforts, not to mention one day of running the forklift for them. I also was supplied with dinner out of the deal, and as I am on good terms with this former employer, I thought that there would be a return invite, as in prior years. But no, and if I have it right, I would assume my manipulators have their own reasons for keeping me house bound this long weekend.
The perp assholes have been pulling door thumps on my residence each evening of late, only one or two each day, and often coincident when I come to some realization, usually from a thought process that is idling in the back of my head. It is a single thump, not a knock, and of course, there is no one there. Not that I look, as I have been conditioned to regard these unconventional noise/vibration intrusions as "its the Thems again".
Another week of construction laboring passed, and it was relatively OK. The usual increased flux of dudes around me, often when I just get to a room to do work, or else when transiting hallways and turn a corner. The elevator egress is also fraught with games too.
Though the E. Indian workers (cleaners and dry wallers), are a particularly "sticky" bunch, meaning that they always seem to be hanging around me, and made themselves little more annoying this week. Not only from their jabbering when around me, and being particularly frequent in my proximity, but also distinguishing themselves by being particularly rude. Not only do they not communicate, or even engage in opening doors or allowing passage in tight places, (normal for all other construction workers), but they seem to come on in surges around me. As I see it, I have done my "E. Indian time", listening to them all day long when working in vineyards, sometimes for months, though never a full season. And so, here they are again, a particularly featured stalking subpopulation for whatever perp reason sits behind all this. (Perhaps because my brother married one?)
Today, as I was handling a pallet in the hallway of the construction site, where the egress was constrained by the pallet where my co-worker and I had been working and just completed unloading, why, an E. Indian threesome of males "happens" to pass by, and one of them collides with me and keeps on going. That this crowd doesn't do "sorry" isn't news to me, but as I see it, you either fit in or go home. Anyhow, having stalkers run into me isn't new either, but having brown skinned ones go this rude on me is a new one. And of course, any time I am handling pallets begets extra flushes of dudes around me, but this time it was the E. Indian's turn. So go fuck yourselves, all the stalkers for that matter. And for that matter, civic manners should be part of the citizenship test, and if they fail, they go home. Same for learning English. I don't know why we have to put up with this seditious government sponsored nonsense.
That this same crowd had the elevator stuffed with four step ladders for one of my trips down from my working floor to the first floor later in the day didn't surprise me. I don't know what the deal is about the perps and step ladders, or any kind of ladder for that matter, but it was a signature stalking prop from the get-go when all this shit rained down on me, 04-2002. As in the perps, who had been surreptitiously following and arranging my life suddenly went berserk/overt and made it known that they considered me a Prime Victim and introduced me to their unconventional technologies and malevolent and relentless abuse.
And I suppose, one of two of them strutting around on stilts in my proximity for drywall work was also part of the plan, as the perps just love to have their stalkers at a different elevation from me, often by using stairs or like.
The disposable booties work place wearing requirement is still going on, though running out of steam. They went through 5,000 pairs in three days and haven't been able to keep up, putting bins up at the exit doors, where one can re-use booties placed there from others. Never mind that these retread booties are in terrible shape, and it also does cause me to wonder what the management is thinking when they want workers to fish through the bins to find pairs that can survive being put on, never mind re-use.
The owner of the millwork firm for whom I work came to visit the work site for two days this week; he seems like a decent guy, and not one of those relentless hard asses that I so often meet. He even took us all out for drinks and dinner at a nearby pub later. I chatted with him for a time, about the business and related matters. Gosh, I was treated like a normal for once, and not given the usual looks of dread and tension I get.
And the reason for a missed yoga class the prior week came into focus; a new yoga instructor. I believe it has been an everytime event now; whenever a new instructor comes on, (usually unbeknownst to me), they have me miss the first class. And after stalking my ass in yoga with tattoo cases of other yogis in my proximity, why, they now have this new instructor plastered with this fugly body mutilation. All over her arms no less, and quite a gross-out. At best, past instructors had a little tattoo on their foot or something, but this is quite the unavoidable tattoo show.
The new instructor has a more demanding tone and is less inclined to be chatty or relaxed. It has been apparent over the last five years of yoga that they have, in prior years, pulled such instructors in short order and replaced them with more friendly ones. It would seem that this instructor is returning to that fold they were testing me out in prior years; the tone and nature of the instructor's verbal delivery also seems to be a big deal for the perps.
And too, the yoga class underwent a major re-population (same class, same day and time); hardly any of the recent regulars, and to my relief they seemed to have dispensed with the E. Indian that was hounding my ass for the last 8 weeks. I have never figured out how the yoga class gets populated, apart from the Unfavored specimens being injected, as it seems there are hardly any regulars beyond 3 months.
Anyhow, I am late in getting this posted, and I shall cut the news off for now.
Sunday, November 13, 2016
Ladder Larks
11-13-2016
Sunday, a day off, and in the new format of not putting down jottings during the week, here I go. That is, the perps have decided to manage me in exquisite detail, more than micro-manage even, and screw any routine of mine no matter how small. Especially those routines that work reasonably well.
An example would be keeping track of my revenues and expenses in Quicken, and looking at the monthly reports. Often which would prod me into action to spend less on such and such, and guide my financial behavior. And too, reconciling it and keeping track of my bank account. Now, all that has devolved since 10-2015, and I don't keep on this any more, which just pisses me off. I do look at my bank account monthly to pay bills, but it would seem that I am not allowed to keep on top of the details of where money comes and goes. Any sudden behavior changes are automatically ascribed to the perps who I have come to find can remotely influence all neural activity. As strange and invasive at it seems, it is a reality for me in these imposed circumstances. Not unlike other TI's, marginalized desperadoes of no choice.
And what is the ongoing and utterly ridiculous obsession of the perps over ladders of all description? This was immediately apparent in the year they went berserk/overt on me 04-2002, when they made their presence loud and clear in an opening apartment invasion of considerable unconventional methods. And I have been run and ruined since, not to mention constantly abused and harassed. Infuriating me is their first and best move it seems.
Back to ladders; since they went berserk/overt they have paraded ladders on pickup trucks and vans, aka, the Ladder Patrol, around me everywhere in traffic. Sometimes running three or four vehicles in succession, often with different ladder orientations; on pickup truck racks where the ladder is horizontal, propped up the the forward rack (and wedged where the tailgate meets the box bed), at a 30 degree angle or so to the road surface, and the inevitable stacks of ladders on trades vans. I have never seen so many ladders in motion all my life in those heavy vehicular gangstalking years, 2002 to mid-2006 until they financial screwed me out of me owning a vehicle. Mind you, the Ladder Patrol didn't give up, it is just that they needed less of them as I was walking mostly, save public transit trips. In the latter case, the on board freak show rotation caught my attention more than what was outside.
So it was last week when at work in the winery when I was up a particular kind of ladder that has steps with side rails, and is mobile with four wheels and a mechanism to lift two of the wheels at the entry to stabilize it so one can climb the steps. So here was I up 14' on the top step attending to barrel stirring, and this building maintenance schmo release the wheels and starts moving the ladder. Like WTF; I yelled down below to tell him that I was on it, and he resets the wheels down and doesn't bother with an apology, or even look up as to what damage he may have done. (Or anything that may be coming down on him; I had a small bucket of cleaning solution up there). So, I called down, why did you move the ladder? And he says, he wanted to access the air conditioner that was behind, it, and I said, "and without looking?". Still he doesn't make eye contact, or in any way appear to atone for this utterly irresponsible safety violation (IMHO).
After this, and still up the ladder, he still hangs around, even though he wasn't part of the regular winery crew. The boss man comes up the ladder, looking sideways curiously (who does that normally), and when at at the top he asks me if everything was OK. I say it is now, but not when the mofo below was moving the ladder. He appears to understand and I tell him that I am finishing up, and he goes back down. As do I in a few minutes. The ladder moving mofo is still hanging around and finally gets to his air conditioner, and still does nothing to atone for his outrageous safety violation. Like WTF; what was normal about any of anyone else's behavior in all of this?
I use a 7' step ladder each day at the winery, about 2x per day to attend to cleaning of the taller equipment that we use. There is no end of buzzing around me before, during and returning the ladder so say the least. Why, they even keep the door open for me when I pack it out. How civil.
Moving on from ladders, there the matter of hose fittings that is a huge deal for the perps. Not only do they often not fit when they should, but the perps constantly scramble me as to which way to turn them, being DIN threaded fittings. Of course I know which way to turn a nut or threaded object, close to 55 years now, and lo, if the assholes don't dither me when undertaking this basic winery function of joining hoses, some 2" ID. And of course I deal with water hoses too, 1" diameter or so. And too, there are some fittings that adapt between the two of them. In the aid of this situation, I ordered a part from the destemmer manufacturer to adapt a European tapered fitting to the North American NPT, as the winemaker wasn't too engaged in getting the part. And lo, two days ago, two independent delivery personnel arrive together through the door, and I was 30' away. One was was bearing a new 1" hose line (100' or so) that the winemaker ordered, and the other was the Fedex guy delivering the destemmer adapter part in a 8"x6" envelope. Once I later got the adapter fitting on the destemmer, it was that same water hose that I connected to it, as it has an internal sprinkler cleaning system. What an astonishing coincidence; both these new connectable items arriving in the hands of two independent individuals who arrived in the building at the same time. Hats off to ECCO, the Earth Coincidence Control Organization, though the obviousness was over the top IMHO.
A solid morning of imposed mental fuckery this morning (e.g fittings that don't fit) all over setting up a pump, sanitizing the hoses and doing barrel filling. And a few of these in front of the boss man, though he fucked me up in his ever hyper "helping", though he did apologize for it. OK; I get it, straight from the perps- full time commercial winery work is not in my vocational future. Back to the vineyard as soon as I can, but that won't be for a few months, and isn't an entirely fuck-up free activity as I have come to know all too well. All I have to do is gracefully exit from this winery job, and hopefully in a week or so when the harvest is done.
Enough for a post I figure, and to keep my Sunday posting routine. (And which was screwed up due to being out of town last week and then harvest party Sunday night).
Sunday, a day off, and in the new format of not putting down jottings during the week, here I go. That is, the perps have decided to manage me in exquisite detail, more than micro-manage even, and screw any routine of mine no matter how small. Especially those routines that work reasonably well.
An example would be keeping track of my revenues and expenses in Quicken, and looking at the monthly reports. Often which would prod me into action to spend less on such and such, and guide my financial behavior. And too, reconciling it and keeping track of my bank account. Now, all that has devolved since 10-2015, and I don't keep on this any more, which just pisses me off. I do look at my bank account monthly to pay bills, but it would seem that I am not allowed to keep on top of the details of where money comes and goes. Any sudden behavior changes are automatically ascribed to the perps who I have come to find can remotely influence all neural activity. As strange and invasive at it seems, it is a reality for me in these imposed circumstances. Not unlike other TI's, marginalized desperadoes of no choice.
And what is the ongoing and utterly ridiculous obsession of the perps over ladders of all description? This was immediately apparent in the year they went berserk/overt on me 04-2002, when they made their presence loud and clear in an opening apartment invasion of considerable unconventional methods. And I have been run and ruined since, not to mention constantly abused and harassed. Infuriating me is their first and best move it seems.
Back to ladders; since they went berserk/overt they have paraded ladders on pickup trucks and vans, aka, the Ladder Patrol, around me everywhere in traffic. Sometimes running three or four vehicles in succession, often with different ladder orientations; on pickup truck racks where the ladder is horizontal, propped up the the forward rack (and wedged where the tailgate meets the box bed), at a 30 degree angle or so to the road surface, and the inevitable stacks of ladders on trades vans. I have never seen so many ladders in motion all my life in those heavy vehicular gangstalking years, 2002 to mid-2006 until they financial screwed me out of me owning a vehicle. Mind you, the Ladder Patrol didn't give up, it is just that they needed less of them as I was walking mostly, save public transit trips. In the latter case, the on board freak show rotation caught my attention more than what was outside.
So it was last week when at work in the winery when I was up a particular kind of ladder that has steps with side rails, and is mobile with four wheels and a mechanism to lift two of the wheels at the entry to stabilize it so one can climb the steps. So here was I up 14' on the top step attending to barrel stirring, and this building maintenance schmo release the wheels and starts moving the ladder. Like WTF; I yelled down below to tell him that I was on it, and he resets the wheels down and doesn't bother with an apology, or even look up as to what damage he may have done. (Or anything that may be coming down on him; I had a small bucket of cleaning solution up there). So, I called down, why did you move the ladder? And he says, he wanted to access the air conditioner that was behind, it, and I said, "and without looking?". Still he doesn't make eye contact, or in any way appear to atone for this utterly irresponsible safety violation (IMHO).
After this, and still up the ladder, he still hangs around, even though he wasn't part of the regular winery crew. The boss man comes up the ladder, looking sideways curiously (who does that normally), and when at at the top he asks me if everything was OK. I say it is now, but not when the mofo below was moving the ladder. He appears to understand and I tell him that I am finishing up, and he goes back down. As do I in a few minutes. The ladder moving mofo is still hanging around and finally gets to his air conditioner, and still does nothing to atone for his outrageous safety violation. Like WTF; what was normal about any of anyone else's behavior in all of this?
I use a 7' step ladder each day at the winery, about 2x per day to attend to cleaning of the taller equipment that we use. There is no end of buzzing around me before, during and returning the ladder so say the least. Why, they even keep the door open for me when I pack it out. How civil.
Moving on from ladders, there the matter of hose fittings that is a huge deal for the perps. Not only do they often not fit when they should, but the perps constantly scramble me as to which way to turn them, being DIN threaded fittings. Of course I know which way to turn a nut or threaded object, close to 55 years now, and lo, if the assholes don't dither me when undertaking this basic winery function of joining hoses, some 2" ID. And of course I deal with water hoses too, 1" diameter or so. And too, there are some fittings that adapt between the two of them. In the aid of this situation, I ordered a part from the destemmer manufacturer to adapt a European tapered fitting to the North American NPT, as the winemaker wasn't too engaged in getting the part. And lo, two days ago, two independent delivery personnel arrive together through the door, and I was 30' away. One was was bearing a new 1" hose line (100' or so) that the winemaker ordered, and the other was the Fedex guy delivering the destemmer adapter part in a 8"x6" envelope. Once I later got the adapter fitting on the destemmer, it was that same water hose that I connected to it, as it has an internal sprinkler cleaning system. What an astonishing coincidence; both these new connectable items arriving in the hands of two independent individuals who arrived in the building at the same time. Hats off to ECCO, the Earth Coincidence Control Organization, though the obviousness was over the top IMHO.
A solid morning of imposed mental fuckery this morning (e.g fittings that don't fit) all over setting up a pump, sanitizing the hoses and doing barrel filling. And a few of these in front of the boss man, though he fucked me up in his ever hyper "helping", though he did apologize for it. OK; I get it, straight from the perps- full time commercial winery work is not in my vocational future. Back to the vineyard as soon as I can, but that won't be for a few months, and isn't an entirely fuck-up free activity as I have come to know all too well. All I have to do is gracefully exit from this winery job, and hopefully in a week or so when the harvest is done.
Enough for a post I figure, and to keep my Sunday posting routine. (And which was screwed up due to being out of town last week and then harvest party Sunday night).
Friday, March 12, 2010
More Yellow Time
1000h
More yellow color time is needed by the sickos, and a Post-it pad on my desk just isn't enough for them now. So.. continuing with the tactically time pee-ing, and the pee that magically flys out of the toilet onto the rim and now the floor. These droplets take the most unusual trajectories, erupting with a low rim clearing angle and then taking a near right angle turn to land6" from the toilet. All to have me spend more time cleaning up their mess with their very favorite prop, toilet paper, and now from the floor. This way, they can "get me" closer to the toilet when cleaning the floor for all of the five seconds it takes. And that is important to them, such is the degree of insane invasion I am recieving. And no doubt, using one piece to clean the rim and a second one to clean the floor is equally exciting for the sickos, though I have not figured out why they are so obsessed over toilet paper. Though, given its ubiquity...
And a stinking rage-ification show over coffee making this morning. For the past two weeks the Bodum french press plunger has been resistant to being plunged, as there is this strange pushback to make it a 20 to 30 second exercise. In other words, pushing firmly doesn't make the plunger travel any faster; with the plastic knob in one hand, leaning on it, and it moving slowly toward the plastic lid on the pot, this is their exercise in slow travel of my hand between two plastic objects and an intervening steel shaft that connects them. But today, they decided that logical incongruity didn't matter and arranged a "self-eruption" of coffee on the outside of the pot. But as the plunger is going down slower than normal, there would be less likelihood of any "eruptions" of coffee from the inside of the pot wouldn't you think? But not in Fuckover World, where if they want a coffee blow-out to accompany another vexation, why, they just make it happen. So... the net result is that I clean up the pot, the burner it was resting on, and the adjacent stovetop area with a blue colored sponge. And for the sickos, that is indeed exciting stuff, having a deep brown (problematic color for them), liquid poured from a pot that had immediately prior application from a blue (more acceptable color for me) colored object that applied a film of water. Just fucking insane these assholes, and that might of earned them a new name, Psychopathic Nutters of the Fourth Reich. I have many names I use, most of which I don't share on this blog, but this theme is in vogue of late, no doubt scripted for whatever reasons they have, sometimes accurately. And it isn't any coincidence that the brown and blue color theming has increased of late; clothing, carry bags and even vehicles, typically buses with advertising on them or blue pickups hauling brown colored furniture in them with the ubiquitous ladder projecting from the box. One such vehicle went twice around the block when waiting for the outbound city bus yesterday. And a same mid-blue small hatchback did a later two pass circle loop at the bus area at the college ahead of my inbound trip.
And what is with stringing me along over getting some paid work? My in-town brother has twice welched on me this week, promising continuation of the wall building he had me start and is now going to complete it himself. It is bad enough that I get this from employers, the few who do respond, but as the First Feral Family knows finances are tight at this time, pulling this shit off is reprehensible. I have other profane names for this stunt, but for now, call it bait-and-switch.
1555h
A strange kind of restlessness has come over me, and that included removing my earmuffs for no reason at all. Perhaps the big moment is when I take them off, as the metal bashing, overhead clunking and the sirens have started up along with the hallway sourced door lock clatter. And they also have me leaning forward off my seat back, something I wouldn't do myself either. Just another behavioral imp[osition as if this hasn't happened in the past.
With all the tapping and bashing noises today one would think there is a blacksmith's business in the area, but there isn't of course. The No Ostensible Cause (NOC) noises are increasing of late, and the ridiculous tapping noise is the most flagrant. Tapping of hollow wood beams, then metal bashing as if a blacksmith's, and then generalied tapping as if there was a tent peg driving competion outside and so it goes.
1600h
Another screaming rage-ification earlier when pouring boiling kettle water into the teapot. The sickos decided that dumping a half cup or so on the stovetop was hilarious, and so it was scripted. The intial pour from the kettle somehow leaped over the teapot and onto the stovetop and then settled down by itself to then pour into the teapot. Per above coffee mess incident, the stove top was wiped down by the same blue sponge, and presumably this makes all the difference, having blue color energies partially encircling the burner the teapot sits on.
1910h
A sudden restlessness came over me at 1630h, and I felt compelled to turn off this PC for no organic or sensible reason. That resolved to read a book, the first in at least 8 months, but as soon as I sat on the bed the phone rang. It turned out to be a well timed call from the doctor's office reminding me of my appointment on Monday. Then some ten minutes of reading and a sudden need to nap, which was duly submitted to. There was at least one awakening to hear a siren in mid-nap, and then I drifted off for another 20 minutes to hear a siren before getting up. A 50 minute nap, and an hour later in the day that yesterday's nap, the first in months. These "nap attacks" were once more frequent, and there is no way to resist them, even back to the early harasment days.
2225h
More bookmark cleanup for the last few hours, another activity the perps routinely noisestalk me over as well as keystroke blundering impositions.
And I see that the bread obsession of the perps goes way back to at least the 1960's when they spiked the bread with LSD in a small town in France. And I am sure some of the victims still have traumatizations from that event, scurilous and abusive as it was. I regard the CIA and most of the alphabet soup acronym named spy agencies as the perp's conventional operatives, the ones that don't have teleportation and the rest of the unconventional abusive fuckery, but get stiffed with the perp's excesses all the same. Regular readers will know that the perps have a bread obsession for whatever reason, possibly the properties of gluten which have gone up over seven fold in the past century. I eat gluten free bread and have for over 20 years, starting in my early forties when pizza made me feel so fogged and clogged the next day. Once I cut out the gluten I was fine. I suspect this "reaction" was arranged as a long term "condition" to get me off gluten for the most part. Exactly why the perps have this gluten and bread obsession isn't clear to me, but it might have something to do with neurological function, their prime site of interest.
Back to the CIA and their role in popularizing LSD; it seems that they devoted much effort in testing it among unsuspecting members of the public, not to mention having it promoted via Leary and others. Their chosen neuro-abuser of the 1950's, Dr. Ewan Cameron of McGill Univeristy in Montreal, also applied it to his patients, and given the abidding need of the perps to present color enhanced images to me via their unconventional plasmic manipulation games, it just might be that the infamous doctor fed me some of that substance as I lived in Montreal for two years in the 1950's until five years old. The topic gets plenty of exposure in the news and wherever I read about events, so perhaps this is another front of traumatization they are attempting to emulate and possibly redress. How could they be so stupid as to feed a five year old LSD? Again, it isn't for sure, but is certainly an interest of my abusers, possibly attempting to replicate what I might of seen. As mentioned before, most of my recall to age five has been wiped out, so I cannot verify what they are up to.
2245h
Another round of restlessness, so I will call this one done for the day. I did get out to the LD store this evening on a chocolate run, and had plenty of accompanying gangstalkers covering once the chocolate was selected, and then being kept in the store until their checkout obstruction games were over. Ridiculous, and more hounding me with Fuckwits with ghastly yellow colored jackets, and then having said criminal pose near a woman with similar colored blonde hair. It fits the pattern that is often mentioned; have the Unfavored male in the yellow jacket (two Unfavored properties) hang with the blonde woman (two Favored properties), and then have me switch attention from one to the other and back again before walking past these goofs.
More yellow color time is needed by the sickos, and a Post-it pad on my desk just isn't enough for them now. So.. continuing with the tactically time pee-ing, and the pee that magically flys out of the toilet onto the rim and now the floor. These droplets take the most unusual trajectories, erupting with a low rim clearing angle and then taking a near right angle turn to land6" from the toilet. All to have me spend more time cleaning up their mess with their very favorite prop, toilet paper, and now from the floor. This way, they can "get me" closer to the toilet when cleaning the floor for all of the five seconds it takes. And that is important to them, such is the degree of insane invasion I am recieving. And no doubt, using one piece to clean the rim and a second one to clean the floor is equally exciting for the sickos, though I have not figured out why they are so obsessed over toilet paper. Though, given its ubiquity...
And a stinking rage-ification show over coffee making this morning. For the past two weeks the Bodum french press plunger has been resistant to being plunged, as there is this strange pushback to make it a 20 to 30 second exercise. In other words, pushing firmly doesn't make the plunger travel any faster; with the plastic knob in one hand, leaning on it, and it moving slowly toward the plastic lid on the pot, this is their exercise in slow travel of my hand between two plastic objects and an intervening steel shaft that connects them. But today, they decided that logical incongruity didn't matter and arranged a "self-eruption" of coffee on the outside of the pot. But as the plunger is going down slower than normal, there would be less likelihood of any "eruptions" of coffee from the inside of the pot wouldn't you think? But not in Fuckover World, where if they want a coffee blow-out to accompany another vexation, why, they just make it happen. So... the net result is that I clean up the pot, the burner it was resting on, and the adjacent stovetop area with a blue colored sponge. And for the sickos, that is indeed exciting stuff, having a deep brown (problematic color for them), liquid poured from a pot that had immediately prior application from a blue (more acceptable color for me) colored object that applied a film of water. Just fucking insane these assholes, and that might of earned them a new name, Psychopathic Nutters of the Fourth Reich. I have many names I use, most of which I don't share on this blog, but this theme is in vogue of late, no doubt scripted for whatever reasons they have, sometimes accurately. And it isn't any coincidence that the brown and blue color theming has increased of late; clothing, carry bags and even vehicles, typically buses with advertising on them or blue pickups hauling brown colored furniture in them with the ubiquitous ladder projecting from the box. One such vehicle went twice around the block when waiting for the outbound city bus yesterday. And a same mid-blue small hatchback did a later two pass circle loop at the bus area at the college ahead of my inbound trip.
And what is with stringing me along over getting some paid work? My in-town brother has twice welched on me this week, promising continuation of the wall building he had me start and is now going to complete it himself. It is bad enough that I get this from employers, the few who do respond, but as the First Feral Family knows finances are tight at this time, pulling this shit off is reprehensible. I have other profane names for this stunt, but for now, call it bait-and-switch.
1555h
A strange kind of restlessness has come over me, and that included removing my earmuffs for no reason at all. Perhaps the big moment is when I take them off, as the metal bashing, overhead clunking and the sirens have started up along with the hallway sourced door lock clatter. And they also have me leaning forward off my seat back, something I wouldn't do myself either. Just another behavioral imp[osition as if this hasn't happened in the past.
With all the tapping and bashing noises today one would think there is a blacksmith's business in the area, but there isn't of course. The No Ostensible Cause (NOC) noises are increasing of late, and the ridiculous tapping noise is the most flagrant. Tapping of hollow wood beams, then metal bashing as if a blacksmith's, and then generalied tapping as if there was a tent peg driving competion outside and so it goes.
1600h
Another screaming rage-ification earlier when pouring boiling kettle water into the teapot. The sickos decided that dumping a half cup or so on the stovetop was hilarious, and so it was scripted. The intial pour from the kettle somehow leaped over the teapot and onto the stovetop and then settled down by itself to then pour into the teapot. Per above coffee mess incident, the stove top was wiped down by the same blue sponge, and presumably this makes all the difference, having blue color energies partially encircling the burner the teapot sits on.
1910h
A sudden restlessness came over me at 1630h, and I felt compelled to turn off this PC for no organic or sensible reason. That resolved to read a book, the first in at least 8 months, but as soon as I sat on the bed the phone rang. It turned out to be a well timed call from the doctor's office reminding me of my appointment on Monday. Then some ten minutes of reading and a sudden need to nap, which was duly submitted to. There was at least one awakening to hear a siren in mid-nap, and then I drifted off for another 20 minutes to hear a siren before getting up. A 50 minute nap, and an hour later in the day that yesterday's nap, the first in months. These "nap attacks" were once more frequent, and there is no way to resist them, even back to the early harasment days.
2225h
More bookmark cleanup for the last few hours, another activity the perps routinely noisestalk me over as well as keystroke blundering impositions.
And I see that the bread obsession of the perps goes way back to at least the 1960's when they spiked the bread with LSD in a small town in France. And I am sure some of the victims still have traumatizations from that event, scurilous and abusive as it was. I regard the CIA and most of the alphabet soup acronym named spy agencies as the perp's conventional operatives, the ones that don't have teleportation and the rest of the unconventional abusive fuckery, but get stiffed with the perp's excesses all the same. Regular readers will know that the perps have a bread obsession for whatever reason, possibly the properties of gluten which have gone up over seven fold in the past century. I eat gluten free bread and have for over 20 years, starting in my early forties when pizza made me feel so fogged and clogged the next day. Once I cut out the gluten I was fine. I suspect this "reaction" was arranged as a long term "condition" to get me off gluten for the most part. Exactly why the perps have this gluten and bread obsession isn't clear to me, but it might have something to do with neurological function, their prime site of interest.
Back to the CIA and their role in popularizing LSD; it seems that they devoted much effort in testing it among unsuspecting members of the public, not to mention having it promoted via Leary and others. Their chosen neuro-abuser of the 1950's, Dr. Ewan Cameron of McGill Univeristy in Montreal, also applied it to his patients, and given the abidding need of the perps to present color enhanced images to me via their unconventional plasmic manipulation games, it just might be that the infamous doctor fed me some of that substance as I lived in Montreal for two years in the 1950's until five years old. The topic gets plenty of exposure in the news and wherever I read about events, so perhaps this is another front of traumatization they are attempting to emulate and possibly redress. How could they be so stupid as to feed a five year old LSD? Again, it isn't for sure, but is certainly an interest of my abusers, possibly attempting to replicate what I might of seen. As mentioned before, most of my recall to age five has been wiped out, so I cannot verify what they are up to.
2245h
Another round of restlessness, so I will call this one done for the day. I did get out to the LD store this evening on a chocolate run, and had plenty of accompanying gangstalkers covering once the chocolate was selected, and then being kept in the store until their checkout obstruction games were over. Ridiculous, and more hounding me with Fuckwits with ghastly yellow colored jackets, and then having said criminal pose near a woman with similar colored blonde hair. It fits the pattern that is often mentioned; have the Unfavored male in the yellow jacket (two Unfavored properties) hang with the blonde woman (two Favored properties), and then have me switch attention from one to the other and back again before walking past these goofs.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
New LCD Panel
1530h
The big excitement for the perps was the arrival and fraught set up of my new 22" LCD panel. As I type this, the snow shovel banging is continuing, and before that it was a supposed steer skid tractor to move the snow about. The latter seemed like a noise event, as I never saw it working and looked a number of times. The sirens also came on to join in, at least two cascades. Most of the elevated noise levels were the "usual" kind; overhead pounding that tracked me from desk to kitchen when having tea and chocolate after the install, then heavy duty vehicles were idling outside, then 15 seagull were careening about in flight with a full noise repetoire, a file of 10 or so gangstalkers was on the sidewalk on the snow with one of them walking by the group, thumpy "neighbor" stereo noise also joined the fray, outside male voices and a few others that cannot be recalled.
As usual, it was a nonstop hassle to put this new monitor together; cables became tight, the instructions were terrible and didn't follow the Windows standard, and the entire process of keeping me hyperalert while another jerkaround comes along is just too tempting for the assholes to pass up. That is the way it goes with the Fuckwits; everything new has to be a hassle, and even routines get totally jerked with. And this new LCD monitor is huge compared to a 15" predecessor, and intensely bright as well, with the native menu commands seeming to be mysteriously disfunctional. Bigger than Christmas it would seem, this new monitor, and offering all manner of stunt opportunities by way of stretching the fonts, adding in extra whitespace, then coloring the whitespace a light blue, and last, but not least, a big oversized 1/2" long blue on/off switch that is brightly lighted all the time. With a blue glow to the PC switch, and now this one on the LCD panel, they seem to be adding more bright colors into my peripherial vision as constant references. The good thing is no more horizontal scrolling; this has become a huge pain in the ass, and many of the regular websites had increased their text display width to create this hassle of late. I will have to see how all this goes, and I am sure acquiring new progressive lens eyeglasses about two weeks ago also fits some kind of related agenda with respect to this monitor display, associated text display and the rest of it. And too, with no digital display, that might be the next upgrade some day, hopefully when I can afford it this time. An acquisitional gloat, in part, all the above I am ashamed to say as some TI's don't have a regular place to call home, never mind the bling to fill it. Such is Christmas in TI Land; it is a indulgence for the complicit and the ignorant compared to these circumstances of constant duress.
Another siren cascade as I am about to blog off for now, through the earmuffs even.
2240h
More games and stunts tonight at my one hour per day job; the paper towel rolls somehow tumbled down on me and slightly sprained my right thumb, bringing back an injury they arranged in 1964 by way of brotherly rambunciousness. Only a slight sprain tonight, and matches my right small toe sprain that came from nowhere yesterday. The boss man finally let me in on the intensity of the work he was expecting, rather than rattling on as to how the job would only take 45 minutes when it took 75 minutes. This is a car dealership and it affords all the props the perps have been using for the last six years, specifically vehicular gangstalking. I have long noted the one component of the vehicular gangstalkers as the "Ladder Patrol" as they are often packing an excess of ladders on vehicles that are not even of a commercial nature, and often in sequential configurations that also involve varying ladder stringer compositions and colors. There are wood ladders, aluminum, non conductive fiberglass in yellow and an orange-red color. And for the last three days in the Service shop there has been a deep metallic red colored Mazda Tribute, same as a Ford Escape (parent's have this vehicle), with a pair of yellow fiberglass stringered ladders on it. The first night they even put one ladder exactly over the yellow painted concrete which denotes a caution area for a steeper slope in the concrete floor. Mighty accurate placement to say the least, and for the last two work evenings plus an off-day in between, both ladders have been on the roof rack, one cantilivered off the rear of the Tribute by 6'. It would seem to be another (oddly) extended "service job" on a common gangstalk vehicle color and configuration that just doesn't match the expectable (mine at least) reality of a busy downtown car dealership. There will be more yellow fiberglass stringered ladders parking outside my apartment soon, if the past is prologue.
All the automotive black body panel parts are ususally wrapped in brown paper or cardboard and many are rotated around in the parts section in differing orthogonal orientations along with the strange but persistent presence of two grocery shopping carts, the faux vagrant on-sidewalk "vehicle" of choice to deliver black plastic bags full of recycling returns, pop cans, plastic bottles etc. Regular readers will know that the perps are consumed with presenting brown colors and that they seem to view corrugated cardboard as their greatest leverage in impressing my (seeming) subconcious with the neutrality of this particular brown hue. A primer on the perp's brown color fixation is here. And yes, I did extra lugging of cardboard boxes today at work, and not forgetting that this very LCD panel is fresh from being packed in a brown cardboard box with white styrofoam inserts. An all-out brown cardboard show that was later eclipsed by the blondes.
They put on at least a dozen blonde women on my 10 minute walk back from the car dealership; through the window of a restuarant, a pair on the street doing seeming shopping, one just "hanging around" in the same dark and unpopulated corner as one last week in the same circumstances with her young son, both most strange that any woman would put themselves in this situation, putzing around in the dark on the periphery of downtown. And a final blonde driving from a parking lot to cross my path some 8' in front of me. Then an Asian show at my apartment; two coming out when I was entering, and then another showed up on my tail on his cell phone, and takes the adjacent elevator at nearly the same time I was taking one. The elevator control logic has been changed of late to have both open on the main floor when only one would open for all passengers. Thankfully, he wasn't exiting when I got to my floor, though who knows what is going on the instant I exit the situation. And for those irregular readers, brown skin tones are as much as part of the "brown stalking" as cardboard boxes; see the above linked posting to the right to get up to speed on this if you wish. (The role of blondes as gangstalkers, that is, attractive female blondes even in dimly lit situations and/or fleeting glances, seems to be as "starter stalkers", or as I usually refer to them as members of the few Favored demographic groups which often precede Unfavored groups, the latter partially characterized by brown skin tones). I don't mean to incite any kind of racial friction, but only relate this as a matter of observation that may have some basis as long ago traumatizations that remain in my subconcious, the reason these varying "brown elicitations" are arranged and/or paraded in my proximity. (See the lastmost link for a possible perp rationale).
Time to call this one done for now, and wonder what else the Fuckwits brought me for Christmas, that illusion/delusion that has long been dispensed with as most TI's can attest.
The big excitement for the perps was the arrival and fraught set up of my new 22" LCD panel. As I type this, the snow shovel banging is continuing, and before that it was a supposed steer skid tractor to move the snow about. The latter seemed like a noise event, as I never saw it working and looked a number of times. The sirens also came on to join in, at least two cascades. Most of the elevated noise levels were the "usual" kind; overhead pounding that tracked me from desk to kitchen when having tea and chocolate after the install, then heavy duty vehicles were idling outside, then 15 seagull were careening about in flight with a full noise repetoire, a file of 10 or so gangstalkers was on the sidewalk on the snow with one of them walking by the group, thumpy "neighbor" stereo noise also joined the fray, outside male voices and a few others that cannot be recalled.
As usual, it was a nonstop hassle to put this new monitor together; cables became tight, the instructions were terrible and didn't follow the Windows standard, and the entire process of keeping me hyperalert while another jerkaround comes along is just too tempting for the assholes to pass up. That is the way it goes with the Fuckwits; everything new has to be a hassle, and even routines get totally jerked with. And this new LCD monitor is huge compared to a 15" predecessor, and intensely bright as well, with the native menu commands seeming to be mysteriously disfunctional. Bigger than Christmas it would seem, this new monitor, and offering all manner of stunt opportunities by way of stretching the fonts, adding in extra whitespace, then coloring the whitespace a light blue, and last, but not least, a big oversized 1/2" long blue on/off switch that is brightly lighted all the time. With a blue glow to the PC switch, and now this one on the LCD panel, they seem to be adding more bright colors into my peripherial vision as constant references. The good thing is no more horizontal scrolling; this has become a huge pain in the ass, and many of the regular websites had increased their text display width to create this hassle of late. I will have to see how all this goes, and I am sure acquiring new progressive lens eyeglasses about two weeks ago also fits some kind of related agenda with respect to this monitor display, associated text display and the rest of it. And too, with no digital display, that might be the next upgrade some day, hopefully when I can afford it this time. An acquisitional gloat, in part, all the above I am ashamed to say as some TI's don't have a regular place to call home, never mind the bling to fill it. Such is Christmas in TI Land; it is a indulgence for the complicit and the ignorant compared to these circumstances of constant duress.
Another siren cascade as I am about to blog off for now, through the earmuffs even.
2240h
More games and stunts tonight at my one hour per day job; the paper towel rolls somehow tumbled down on me and slightly sprained my right thumb, bringing back an injury they arranged in 1964 by way of brotherly rambunciousness. Only a slight sprain tonight, and matches my right small toe sprain that came from nowhere yesterday. The boss man finally let me in on the intensity of the work he was expecting, rather than rattling on as to how the job would only take 45 minutes when it took 75 minutes. This is a car dealership and it affords all the props the perps have been using for the last six years, specifically vehicular gangstalking. I have long noted the one component of the vehicular gangstalkers as the "Ladder Patrol" as they are often packing an excess of ladders on vehicles that are not even of a commercial nature, and often in sequential configurations that also involve varying ladder stringer compositions and colors. There are wood ladders, aluminum, non conductive fiberglass in yellow and an orange-red color. And for the last three days in the Service shop there has been a deep metallic red colored Mazda Tribute, same as a Ford Escape (parent's have this vehicle), with a pair of yellow fiberglass stringered ladders on it. The first night they even put one ladder exactly over the yellow painted concrete which denotes a caution area for a steeper slope in the concrete floor. Mighty accurate placement to say the least, and for the last two work evenings plus an off-day in between, both ladders have been on the roof rack, one cantilivered off the rear of the Tribute by 6'. It would seem to be another (oddly) extended "service job" on a common gangstalk vehicle color and configuration that just doesn't match the expectable (mine at least) reality of a busy downtown car dealership. There will be more yellow fiberglass stringered ladders parking outside my apartment soon, if the past is prologue.
All the automotive black body panel parts are ususally wrapped in brown paper or cardboard and many are rotated around in the parts section in differing orthogonal orientations along with the strange but persistent presence of two grocery shopping carts, the faux vagrant on-sidewalk "vehicle" of choice to deliver black plastic bags full of recycling returns, pop cans, plastic bottles etc. Regular readers will know that the perps are consumed with presenting brown colors and that they seem to view corrugated cardboard as their greatest leverage in impressing my (seeming) subconcious with the neutrality of this particular brown hue. A primer on the perp's brown color fixation is here. And yes, I did extra lugging of cardboard boxes today at work, and not forgetting that this very LCD panel is fresh from being packed in a brown cardboard box with white styrofoam inserts. An all-out brown cardboard show that was later eclipsed by the blondes.
They put on at least a dozen blonde women on my 10 minute walk back from the car dealership; through the window of a restuarant, a pair on the street doing seeming shopping, one just "hanging around" in the same dark and unpopulated corner as one last week in the same circumstances with her young son, both most strange that any woman would put themselves in this situation, putzing around in the dark on the periphery of downtown. And a final blonde driving from a parking lot to cross my path some 8' in front of me. Then an Asian show at my apartment; two coming out when I was entering, and then another showed up on my tail on his cell phone, and takes the adjacent elevator at nearly the same time I was taking one. The elevator control logic has been changed of late to have both open on the main floor when only one would open for all passengers. Thankfully, he wasn't exiting when I got to my floor, though who knows what is going on the instant I exit the situation. And for those irregular readers, brown skin tones are as much as part of the "brown stalking" as cardboard boxes; see the above linked posting to the right to get up to speed on this if you wish. (The role of blondes as gangstalkers, that is, attractive female blondes even in dimly lit situations and/or fleeting glances, seems to be as "starter stalkers", or as I usually refer to them as members of the few Favored demographic groups which often precede Unfavored groups, the latter partially characterized by brown skin tones). I don't mean to incite any kind of racial friction, but only relate this as a matter of observation that may have some basis as long ago traumatizations that remain in my subconcious, the reason these varying "brown elicitations" are arranged and/or paraded in my proximity. (See the lastmost link for a possible perp rationale).
Time to call this one done for now, and wonder what else the Fuckwits brought me for Christmas, that illusion/delusion that has long been dispensed with as most TI's can attest.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Yellow Silliness Day
2030h
I have done my one hour cleaning job at the car dealership tonight, and as usual there were some disruptions and games going on that is entirely consistent with vehicular gangstalking and other games that are arranged. They packed the garage area with Mazdas, with the only egress being along side the driver's side of a light metallic brown (tan) colored four door sedan, driver's window open. It was arranged so tight that I had to lift the wheeled mop bucket of dark brown plastic overhead, and make a second trip to get by with the mop. Normally, the mop resides in the bucket which is wheeled into the desired location. This tight egress also meant at least five more round trips of raising the full black garbage bags high to avoid vehicle contact. Regular readers will know that I am constantly hounded with vehicular gangstalkers, and one of the more common "featured" colors is brown after introductory white, silver-grey, mid-grey and black vehicles. And yes, all those vehicles were also present in the garage area too.
Another stunt was to place a silver-grey Mazda hood, likely from a Miata, 12" from the tote that I use to carry around the cleaning materiel; disinfectant, glass cleaner, paper, wipes etc. The ersatz vehicle hood was tucked in this alcove are where they don't ordinarily store car parts. And it also no surprise to see so many new large car parts pinted in black and wrapped up in brown paper wrapping. Also, a profusion of brown cardboard boxes are "showing up", and not just in the parts section. These brown paper wrapped car parts will often be moved from day to day, changing orientation and distance from my route. They may also be put in other sections and in the garage area as forwarded parts in the seeming parked vehicle gangstalking that is going on IMHO. Another gangstalking "arrival" is a 12' and a 20' ladder inside the building and of no seeming utility. Again, regular readers will know from my vehicle ownership days that I was often beseiged with ladder bearing vehicles, usually pickups and trades vans; the so-named "Ladder Patrol" as it happened so often, and even in serial configurations.
I had my once per two week employment consult this morning, and had my yellow clothed gangstalkers out in force again. Today, it was raining, and the first thing outside was a dog with a yellow plastic rain coat on with two shiftless males standing around in the rain. Then onto the major arterial street of four lanes, two each way, and a designed cluster fuck of two black colored parked vehicles, two in (adjacent) lane black colored vehicles held up by the lead one "waiting" for the parking stall to be vacated, two more deep metallic grey vehicles behind the black ones with a yellow cab situated in the middle of this six pack of deep grey or black colored vehicles.
Then with other sidewalk cyclists who have a bicycle lane but prefer to ride past me, I got to my appointment where I had a 20 minute wait as it "happened". First an anchor woman gangstalker in the S. seats, and then me in the W. seats and then two dudes showing up, both of whom were immaculately dry, including their hair and did not have an umbrella. These were black dressed Fuckwits to join some of the black dressed apparent staff milling about. Then a woman with a 2' long flower came to sit beside me, and then she was called off in five minutes to the office beside the one I later visited as it "happened". The dude rotation then had one arrive with a soaking wet yellow raincoat, and he was still there when I got called in another five to eight minutes or so. It is always so entertaining and predictable to a point.
Perhaps the big excitement for the Fuckwits was that I cut my fingernails earlier this morning, the ones that were dyed yellow "from" wet gloves two days ago, and with residual yellow still in place as described in yesterday's blog posting. So... my yellow or once-yellow tinted fingernail trimmings went down the toilet that had also been fucked with this morning by brown colored backwash that "happened" to seep back in from last night's crap. Yes, we are still playing yellow and brown color combination games six years later of incessant life trashing, and it is all done by acclimating certain areas with greyscale colors and then adding the perp's difficult colors in; red, brown, yellow and purple and avocado green to a lesser extent. Not my problem, so why am I involved in it?
And one can hope to get an answer, but first I want to scream out the question to the face of real a criminal Fuckwit who is going to respond in English and explain why they selected me for this fucking sick minded abuse. As if they haven't sponsored enough already, and that doesn't include the memory wiping they did back when 2 to 5 years old and are still attempting to recreate by exposure to the fucking freakshow of ambulatory gangstalkers and other garrish color combinations I don't care to see, especially when online.
And I see that snow is forecast for tomorrow and Sunday, so I image this will be one big white color game for the perps, as if they haven't pulled enough of these already.
Another big perp event today was forcing me into taping the remaining window to stop the ready passage of cold air through the ill-fitting aluminum frame. Somehow, it got out of alignment to leave a 1/2" gap that they like to exploit by driving moist air into this apartment. This was done last year, and now for this winter, the other sliding glass door being taped up about 4 weeks ago. There is something the perps hope to learn/extract from drafting tape, and it just might be the gluten based adhesives that are used. They cannot get enough of taping things, and I have recently learned that pulling tape off a roll will cause small X-rays to be emitted. None were seen of course, or at least not by me. I am now "sealed in" with both windows taped, and it pisses me off that I won't have access to fresh air when needed, especially if I use a Sharpie felt pen or something equally noxious.
I also did laundry today, and again, I had my Fuckwit gangstalker in the laundry room when I got there to pick up my dried clothing from the dryer, and he kept standing behind me as I picked it up. This was identical to another set up with another gangstalker two weeks ago, also male. Both hanging around for no fucking reason except to stand behind me in the identical configuration each time. Another improbable event; having two halfwits as they presented themselves (Fuckwit criminals in reality), stand in the identical location while I was in the identical situation of extracting my clothes from the dryer, two weeks apart.
Last week they arranged for the dryer load to be partially dry; sheets were fine, but the towels and jeans were damp, and so I put the latter items on for another dryer cycle. And lo, if I didn't "forget" and wasn't reminded until two days later. But I was lucky, as they didn't steal anything this time, the usual outcome of "forgotten" laundry in a public facility.
12-13-2008, 1150h
I got fucked with again and didn't get this posted last night. There are far too many "forgets" these days, and when a unknown party has an interest in disruption of my routines, it all points to them. But they did allow me some headphone time, the first in two months.
I have done my one hour cleaning job at the car dealership tonight, and as usual there were some disruptions and games going on that is entirely consistent with vehicular gangstalking and other games that are arranged. They packed the garage area with Mazdas, with the only egress being along side the driver's side of a light metallic brown (tan) colored four door sedan, driver's window open. It was arranged so tight that I had to lift the wheeled mop bucket of dark brown plastic overhead, and make a second trip to get by with the mop. Normally, the mop resides in the bucket which is wheeled into the desired location. This tight egress also meant at least five more round trips of raising the full black garbage bags high to avoid vehicle contact. Regular readers will know that I am constantly hounded with vehicular gangstalkers, and one of the more common "featured" colors is brown after introductory white, silver-grey, mid-grey and black vehicles. And yes, all those vehicles were also present in the garage area too.
Another stunt was to place a silver-grey Mazda hood, likely from a Miata, 12" from the tote that I use to carry around the cleaning materiel; disinfectant, glass cleaner, paper, wipes etc. The ersatz vehicle hood was tucked in this alcove are where they don't ordinarily store car parts. And it also no surprise to see so many new large car parts pinted in black and wrapped up in brown paper wrapping. Also, a profusion of brown cardboard boxes are "showing up", and not just in the parts section. These brown paper wrapped car parts will often be moved from day to day, changing orientation and distance from my route. They may also be put in other sections and in the garage area as forwarded parts in the seeming parked vehicle gangstalking that is going on IMHO. Another gangstalking "arrival" is a 12' and a 20' ladder inside the building and of no seeming utility. Again, regular readers will know from my vehicle ownership days that I was often beseiged with ladder bearing vehicles, usually pickups and trades vans; the so-named "Ladder Patrol" as it happened so often, and even in serial configurations.
I had my once per two week employment consult this morning, and had my yellow clothed gangstalkers out in force again. Today, it was raining, and the first thing outside was a dog with a yellow plastic rain coat on with two shiftless males standing around in the rain. Then onto the major arterial street of four lanes, two each way, and a designed cluster fuck of two black colored parked vehicles, two in (adjacent) lane black colored vehicles held up by the lead one "waiting" for the parking stall to be vacated, two more deep metallic grey vehicles behind the black ones with a yellow cab situated in the middle of this six pack of deep grey or black colored vehicles.
Then with other sidewalk cyclists who have a bicycle lane but prefer to ride past me, I got to my appointment where I had a 20 minute wait as it "happened". First an anchor woman gangstalker in the S. seats, and then me in the W. seats and then two dudes showing up, both of whom were immaculately dry, including their hair and did not have an umbrella. These were black dressed Fuckwits to join some of the black dressed apparent staff milling about. Then a woman with a 2' long flower came to sit beside me, and then she was called off in five minutes to the office beside the one I later visited as it "happened". The dude rotation then had one arrive with a soaking wet yellow raincoat, and he was still there when I got called in another five to eight minutes or so. It is always so entertaining and predictable to a point.
Perhaps the big excitement for the Fuckwits was that I cut my fingernails earlier this morning, the ones that were dyed yellow "from" wet gloves two days ago, and with residual yellow still in place as described in yesterday's blog posting. So... my yellow or once-yellow tinted fingernail trimmings went down the toilet that had also been fucked with this morning by brown colored backwash that "happened" to seep back in from last night's crap. Yes, we are still playing yellow and brown color combination games six years later of incessant life trashing, and it is all done by acclimating certain areas with greyscale colors and then adding the perp's difficult colors in; red, brown, yellow and purple and avocado green to a lesser extent. Not my problem, so why am I involved in it?
And one can hope to get an answer, but first I want to scream out the question to the face of real a criminal Fuckwit who is going to respond in English and explain why they selected me for this fucking sick minded abuse. As if they haven't sponsored enough already, and that doesn't include the memory wiping they did back when 2 to 5 years old and are still attempting to recreate by exposure to the fucking freakshow of ambulatory gangstalkers and other garrish color combinations I don't care to see, especially when online.
And I see that snow is forecast for tomorrow and Sunday, so I image this will be one big white color game for the perps, as if they haven't pulled enough of these already.
Another big perp event today was forcing me into taping the remaining window to stop the ready passage of cold air through the ill-fitting aluminum frame. Somehow, it got out of alignment to leave a 1/2" gap that they like to exploit by driving moist air into this apartment. This was done last year, and now for this winter, the other sliding glass door being taped up about 4 weeks ago. There is something the perps hope to learn/extract from drafting tape, and it just might be the gluten based adhesives that are used. They cannot get enough of taping things, and I have recently learned that pulling tape off a roll will cause small X-rays to be emitted. None were seen of course, or at least not by me. I am now "sealed in" with both windows taped, and it pisses me off that I won't have access to fresh air when needed, especially if I use a Sharpie felt pen or something equally noxious.
I also did laundry today, and again, I had my Fuckwit gangstalker in the laundry room when I got there to pick up my dried clothing from the dryer, and he kept standing behind me as I picked it up. This was identical to another set up with another gangstalker two weeks ago, also male. Both hanging around for no fucking reason except to stand behind me in the identical configuration each time. Another improbable event; having two halfwits as they presented themselves (Fuckwit criminals in reality), stand in the identical location while I was in the identical situation of extracting my clothes from the dryer, two weeks apart.
Last week they arranged for the dryer load to be partially dry; sheets were fine, but the towels and jeans were damp, and so I put the latter items on for another dryer cycle. And lo, if I didn't "forget" and wasn't reminded until two days later. But I was lucky, as they didn't steal anything this time, the usual outcome of "forgotten" laundry in a public facility.
12-13-2008, 1150h
I got fucked with again and didn't get this posted last night. There are far too many "forgets" these days, and when a unknown party has an interest in disruption of my routines, it all points to them. But they did allow me some headphone time, the first in two months.
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Girl Guide Cookies
1510h
Today's cover story for operatives loitering outside the grocery store I went to was Girl Guides selling their cookies. At other times it is faux Amnesty International representatives, wandering around with their white plastic binders with a colored page insert in the transparent front pocket. But today, the perps outdid themselves by posting a young woman with a 30" diameter brown fabric cushion at her back, and one on her front with them loosely linked together, something like a sandwich board. At first she was visible from the inside checkout through the glass at the front of the store, and when I departed, I turned 90 degrees in front of her and had another look to make sure what I was seeing was for real. In passing, one of her mates said something about Girl Guide cookies, and then this ridiculous prop's cover story was allowed to be known to me. It was a oversized imitation cookie, this two cushion act. One cushion of brown fabric for facing me inside through the glass, and the front one when I went by after completion of my transaction at the checkout.
I was duly gangstalked at every turn in the store, and as usual, they were reprising themselves to appear at a new locations even before I got there. And more of the step-in-my-way act, putting on the inadvertent obstruction stunt. And while figuring out which coffee package to get, some rube in an orange anorak parades in front of me, placing himself between the (brown) coffee (in packages) and me. More of the peekaboo games, and passing operatives and vehicles in front of one another. This fucker was also putting on the stare, not bad for someone who was expecting that I was going to move without so much as an "excuse me", as he was walking so fast. Fucking bizarre to say the least.
The grocery store had changed its lighting since I was last there, about three days ago. It was brighter and there was considerably more reflectivity off the shelf item's packaging. And another renovation is going on inside, and I can only assume it has the dark hand of the perps behind it. This is the same grocery store that was repainted in a silver-grey paint this summer, one of the perp's top vehicular gangstalking colors.
I bought the national newspaper to read, and it is a huge source of harassment games for the perps. There is alternately page collapsing, page stiffening, excessive central fold shadow, excessive reflections off the page, plasma beams placed on or over the page, and of course all the placement of the content; colors, people pictures from the perp's chosen demographics, and even a black dude with white woman pictures for the perp's games over auric blending, or whatever their sick minds are up to.
As a rule, there is a huge shadow at the center line fold, and the perps put on the noisestalking anytime I am reading over the fold. They are onto something about text size, text color, and greyscale of the background of the text. This is not new, but seems to be of elevated importance to the perps of late. As always, what I read, and whatever the size of the text is not my problem, so why am I being hounded over this?
There will be no answer to that, and one can be assured that the above complaint has been planted into my thoughts, as I have come to know that most persistent habits, phrases and thoughts are nearly always planted. If the perps did not want this, they would expunge them , which they have done innumerable times since the overt harassment began in 2002.
1700h
A big read on deleterious food components, gluten, lectin, casien and soy. And when I encountered specific words and phrases, the noisestalking started for that brief moment.
1830h
More overhead pounding, this time accompanying vision assaults; turning a page of text that I was reading into a distorted shape. Other vision assaults have been placing bright point sources on my LCD panel, just out of central vision, a flash of light in front of me, color plasma displays in peripherial vision in addition to the many masers and plasma beams in my central vision. It is getting weirder and weirder as these assholes hack at my neural functions, keeping me under their microscope for continued depravity.
More snap, crackle and pop noises are "happening" in my vicinty. These are faked joint creakings, and without any sensation in the joints. Just blatant noise with a threadbare cover story that seems to suit someone's needs, but not mine. And too, it could well be about having me vocalize my complaint immediately following the sudden incursion. This goes on all day and evening; the planted joint noise, though interestingly, doesn't happen much during yoga or gym workouts.
A variant on this is the faked neck creakings that are heard, or more like, internally detected as noise, but again, aren't linked to any neck injury or sensation. The perps like to plant these anytime I move my neck when first at a new location or task, and then back off for a time. Owing to my aforementioned workouts, I am much more flexible than the average person for my age, and yet these neck creakings keep "happening". That really translates to more perp activity, especially the internal mouth and neck noises that are nonaural, not detected by my ears, but specific brain regions, bypassing normal auditory channels. This is a big deal for the sick assholes, and I am sure it has to do with exercising certain neural pathways and not others, so to remotely detect the applicable energies.
2220h
The pictures are from 10-05-2007, my double outing day of yoga and then gym in the afternoon.
This is the Victoria Police station; an amazing aerial collection, and the folded dipole type is exceedingly common, even on some houses in this town. These could be all normal police communications towers, but this is a considerable increase in their height and quantity when I last saw them.
I suppose having a green vehicle parked next to a green wall isn't very conspiratorial, and nor are the coffee cups lying on the sidewalk. However, the perps carry coffee with them on public streets and even in grocery stores in some kind of brown color referencing practice. And as these color energies appear to persist in the event that the contents of a container are emptied, it appears that these two coffee cups with spilled coffee beside them, are being tested for their "browness interaction" with me, and likely with the added complexity of having a significant amount of green color energy in close proximity.
Again, nothing too secretive about having a goof in a brown coat accessing his shopping basket that came from over a mile away, but as I see these shopping cart acts up to 6 times per day, and always in my proximity, it surely must be some kind of perp prop to measure energy fields, not unlike the near ubiquitious aerials .
Then again, same for ladders. By themselves they are don't convey much, but when I see over a hundred a day, in all kinds of configurations, and in or on vehicles in file, there has to be something about ladders, of varying construction materials, that the perps gain some kind of extra energy from, not unlike an aerial. These goofs parked on one side the road and carried the ladder across, effectively sweeping the road surface for its energies near me and the yoga classroom just before class. Note the matching colors of the green vehicle and the buildings, again, not a signature stalking event in itself, but having many photos of matching gangstalkers to background color, it just isn't a coincidence anymore.
A pair of black sedans on opposite sides of the one way street, and though not the same model or manufacturer, but with very similar profiles. Matching vehicles by design features such as windsheild rake angle is very common. A silver-grey and a red in file on the opposite side of the street are also part of the perp's game, the first mentioned color being leveraged as it is more likeable (by me), while I don't care for red colors much. There is a second silver-grey vehicle outside of the frame, behind the right-most silver-grey vehicle, visible in the pictures below. The blue vehicle is also in the mix probably for the same reason as the silver-grey vehicle behind it.
Further up the hill, a cluster of four white colored vehicles, one silver-grey vehicle, and one parked vehicle under a tree that I cannot make the color out. Then the cluster spreads apart and the perps put on individually pass-bys in front of the above setup of the two parked silver-greys in file, red, two blacks and blue vehicles.
The cluster spilts apart some more so that the pass-bys are individual, one at a time. I suspect that the perps are looking to see some kind of neural response to one color of vehicle placed in front of another color, the same thing they do with their gangstalking operatives in public locations, as they also have my family members do.
2300h
Time to call this day done, and leave the abundant masers and plasma beams for another day, maybe even for some early, ~0400h singing from somewhere like last night.
Today's cover story for operatives loitering outside the grocery store I went to was Girl Guides selling their cookies. At other times it is faux Amnesty International representatives, wandering around with their white plastic binders with a colored page insert in the transparent front pocket. But today, the perps outdid themselves by posting a young woman with a 30" diameter brown fabric cushion at her back, and one on her front with them loosely linked together, something like a sandwich board. At first she was visible from the inside checkout through the glass at the front of the store, and when I departed, I turned 90 degrees in front of her and had another look to make sure what I was seeing was for real. In passing, one of her mates said something about Girl Guide cookies, and then this ridiculous prop's cover story was allowed to be known to me. It was a oversized imitation cookie, this two cushion act. One cushion of brown fabric for facing me inside through the glass, and the front one when I went by after completion of my transaction at the checkout.
I was duly gangstalked at every turn in the store, and as usual, they were reprising themselves to appear at a new locations even before I got there. And more of the step-in-my-way act, putting on the inadvertent obstruction stunt. And while figuring out which coffee package to get, some rube in an orange anorak parades in front of me, placing himself between the (brown) coffee (in packages) and me. More of the peekaboo games, and passing operatives and vehicles in front of one another. This fucker was also putting on the stare, not bad for someone who was expecting that I was going to move without so much as an "excuse me", as he was walking so fast. Fucking bizarre to say the least.
The grocery store had changed its lighting since I was last there, about three days ago. It was brighter and there was considerably more reflectivity off the shelf item's packaging. And another renovation is going on inside, and I can only assume it has the dark hand of the perps behind it. This is the same grocery store that was repainted in a silver-grey paint this summer, one of the perp's top vehicular gangstalking colors.
I bought the national newspaper to read, and it is a huge source of harassment games for the perps. There is alternately page collapsing, page stiffening, excessive central fold shadow, excessive reflections off the page, plasma beams placed on or over the page, and of course all the placement of the content; colors, people pictures from the perp's chosen demographics, and even a black dude with white woman pictures for the perp's games over auric blending, or whatever their sick minds are up to.
As a rule, there is a huge shadow at the center line fold, and the perps put on the noisestalking anytime I am reading over the fold. They are onto something about text size, text color, and greyscale of the background of the text. This is not new, but seems to be of elevated importance to the perps of late. As always, what I read, and whatever the size of the text is not my problem, so why am I being hounded over this?
There will be no answer to that, and one can be assured that the above complaint has been planted into my thoughts, as I have come to know that most persistent habits, phrases and thoughts are nearly always planted. If the perps did not want this, they would expunge them , which they have done innumerable times since the overt harassment began in 2002.
1700h
A big read on deleterious food components, gluten, lectin, casien and soy. And when I encountered specific words and phrases, the noisestalking started for that brief moment.
1830h
More overhead pounding, this time accompanying vision assaults; turning a page of text that I was reading into a distorted shape. Other vision assaults have been placing bright point sources on my LCD panel, just out of central vision, a flash of light in front of me, color plasma displays in peripherial vision in addition to the many masers and plasma beams in my central vision. It is getting weirder and weirder as these assholes hack at my neural functions, keeping me under their microscope for continued depravity.
More snap, crackle and pop noises are "happening" in my vicinty. These are faked joint creakings, and without any sensation in the joints. Just blatant noise with a threadbare cover story that seems to suit someone's needs, but not mine. And too, it could well be about having me vocalize my complaint immediately following the sudden incursion. This goes on all day and evening; the planted joint noise, though interestingly, doesn't happen much during yoga or gym workouts.
A variant on this is the faked neck creakings that are heard, or more like, internally detected as noise, but again, aren't linked to any neck injury or sensation. The perps like to plant these anytime I move my neck when first at a new location or task, and then back off for a time. Owing to my aforementioned workouts, I am much more flexible than the average person for my age, and yet these neck creakings keep "happening". That really translates to more perp activity, especially the internal mouth and neck noises that are nonaural, not detected by my ears, but specific brain regions, bypassing normal auditory channels. This is a big deal for the sick assholes, and I am sure it has to do with exercising certain neural pathways and not others, so to remotely detect the applicable energies.
2220h
The pictures are from 10-05-2007, my double outing day of yoga and then gym in the afternoon.
This is the Victoria Police station; an amazing aerial collection, and the folded dipole type is exceedingly common, even on some houses in this town. These could be all normal police communications towers, but this is a considerable increase in their height and quantity when I last saw them.
I suppose having a green vehicle parked next to a green wall isn't very conspiratorial, and nor are the coffee cups lying on the sidewalk. However, the perps carry coffee with them on public streets and even in grocery stores in some kind of brown color referencing practice. And as these color energies appear to persist in the event that the contents of a container are emptied, it appears that these two coffee cups with spilled coffee beside them, are being tested for their "browness interaction" with me, and likely with the added complexity of having a significant amount of green color energy in close proximity.
Again, nothing too secretive about having a goof in a brown coat accessing his shopping basket that came from over a mile away, but as I see these shopping cart acts up to 6 times per day, and always in my proximity, it surely must be some kind of perp prop to measure energy fields, not unlike the near ubiquitious aerials .
Then again, same for ladders. By themselves they are don't convey much, but when I see over a hundred a day, in all kinds of configurations, and in or on vehicles in file, there has to be something about ladders, of varying construction materials, that the perps gain some kind of extra energy from, not unlike an aerial. These goofs parked on one side the road and carried the ladder across, effectively sweeping the road surface for its energies near me and the yoga classroom just before class. Note the matching colors of the green vehicle and the buildings, again, not a signature stalking event in itself, but having many photos of matching gangstalkers to background color, it just isn't a coincidence anymore.
A pair of black sedans on opposite sides of the one way street, and though not the same model or manufacturer, but with very similar profiles. Matching vehicles by design features such as windsheild rake angle is very common. A silver-grey and a red in file on the opposite side of the street are also part of the perp's game, the first mentioned color being leveraged as it is more likeable (by me), while I don't care for red colors much. There is a second silver-grey vehicle outside of the frame, behind the right-most silver-grey vehicle, visible in the pictures below. The blue vehicle is also in the mix probably for the same reason as the silver-grey vehicle behind it.
Further up the hill, a cluster of four white colored vehicles, one silver-grey vehicle, and one parked vehicle under a tree that I cannot make the color out. Then the cluster spreads apart and the perps put on individually pass-bys in front of the above setup of the two parked silver-greys in file, red, two blacks and blue vehicles.
The cluster spilts apart some more so that the pass-bys are individual, one at a time. I suspect that the perps are looking to see some kind of neural response to one color of vehicle placed in front of another color, the same thing they do with their gangstalking operatives in public locations, as they also have my family members do.
2300h
Time to call this day done, and leave the abundant masers and plasma beams for another day, maybe even for some early, ~0400h singing from somewhere like last night.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Operative Herd on Room Shaking Duty
1110h
Since I got back from the grocery store, another mega-gangstalked event, the operatives have been filing out of this building frat house style, slamming the front door which serves as the "causal agent" to shake my room. One after the other, a mass migration, one at a time. The entire putative rooming house of 16 units has turned over at least once this morning. It does make me wonder what the next residence location is going to offer the assholes, as they have it all their way at present. That includes two vacuuming efforts in the hallway yesterday, which still left a trail of white colored debris, the toilet paper and plastic bag fragments litter trail, to lead from my door to the bathroom, only 3' away.
More race-based gangstaking at the grocery store earlier; the black dude gangstalker who cruised in awfully close to the checkout line in which I was last, then partially encircled me to hang around at the next checkout, closed, for a half minute and did no shopping. He was totally scripted to hang around there and do nothing in the way of genuine activity. Then he took off and came back a minute later, only to repeat this idiotic exercise again, 4' away. After a half minute, the Asian dude in navy blue arrived as a faux customer, hanging in the checkout lineup. He later went into sentry mode, where he stands still, this time back facing me, and stays still for about 20 seconds. Meanwhile, the long haired fucker in front of me had a bad case of itching hair, and kept up his scalp scratching act for as long as he was in the checkout line ahead of me, some two minutes. And the fact that he fit another demographic, the pony-tailed male, also "didn't occur to me". And that in itself is another example of a mind-fuck, where they are deleting my knowledge of their fuckery games while engaging in that specific activity. No Big Girl on duty at the grocery store today, as she has been there for nearly all weekday visits of the last two weeks. Maybe the perps decided that there was too much connection, and pulled her act. She must be someone I know who is in morph-over form.
As these "mental lapses" are occuring more often, and are situationally applied, I can only suspect that they are fucking with me all the more to cover their squalid tracks.
The usual plasma in the dark hallway when I got back; this is a daily given where they feign some kind of light to dark transition "eyesight problem" but supplying a plasmic fog of multi-colored spatter for me to walk through. It is about time some asshole explained this, as these vision assaults are constant now.
1610h
A visit to the doctor turned into a massive gangstalk in the waiting room. They brought in two huge 300 lb women to sit around, and the blonde woman who shows up at Tuesday yoga also "happened" to be there. Then after 5 minutes or so, she departed, not the usual waiting room behavior, but that is not uncommon amongst the freak show I have around me. As she crossed in front of me some 4' away, and on the opposite side of a low table, a red plasma flash went off for a second or less. Then 5 minutes she" showed up" again, sitting on the opposite side, and I never saw her re-enter the waiting area. She was on sentry duty at the doors to the clinician's only area, and to no surprise, was still there when I exited. She is a seen-before, and I don't know where, or else I am being fucked with in thinking that.
I got the doctor's "assistant" routine again while in his office; another Asian, this fellow being very fair skinned, abeit with black hair. So it would seem that the perps are going for an Asian skin tone color palette, and needed an "extra" to compare to the doctor.
It was most curious how that very red paper clip got on the floor of his office and remained there for the consult. Between the two of them, they couldn't of missed it. The doctor's new line is that he doesn't doubt that all these strange events are occuring, it is just that I need medication to help me deal with it. Har, har. That saves doing battle with him, as I am sure he had no choice as to refusing to play the game.
I takes 25 minutes to walk to the doctor's office, and for the second doctor visit in four weeks, the rain "happened" to be starting up just before I departed. I was allowed to wear a hat this time. And it almost goes without saying that the gangstalkers were out in force. The 2006 census reported near zero population growth for this area of Victoria called Oak Bay, and yet the traffic is horrific. The perps must of added at least 500 vehicles on in both directions. There were the usual clusters of reds, whites, greys and black vehicles, with selective addition of yellows, brown, greens and blues. The selective addition vehicles are usually accompanied by an escort of black, white and/or silver-grey vehicles.
It was a semi-eventful walk; I got the faux blind man and his rabelous cohort stunt, the latter on pointing and waving duty, who mysterious went ahead of his colleague as we were about to pass by. This momentarily left the blind man alone to observe, and he was following my movements toward him, and eventually past him, with his cane. His eyes looked normal as well and he had a big smile on his face. The whole stunt was likely to get me to vocalize that he didn't seem to blind to me. Then the rabelous one got into voicing something as I kept walking away.
This same stunt played out on the way home, almost at the same location with a woman with a stroller with various plastic rain protection on it who was getting into sidewalk territorial games, and who then forced me off the sidewalk. She then got into a long ramble about blaming me for being a sidewalk hog, telling me I needed to be a waiter and on and on as I kept walking. Two identical stunts of setting up some verbal interaction and having the operative keep babbling on after I have walked on. Fucking absurd.
I got a two sides brown ambulatory gangstalk enroute to the doctor's office. It so "happens" at this location there is a 8' long run of brown colored paint in the road gutter, next to the curb. And lo, if the brown coated gangstalker with a plastic hair bonnet didn't jaywalk across a four lane busy road that momentarily "happened" to be free of traffic, and end up on the sidewalk ahead of me and serving as a brown color source on my left side, and the brown paint on the road was on my right side. A brown color gauntlet in effect, and this play is more common of late, also "happening" for red and green as well. The local landscaping has a 30' run of a certain kind of hedge that has red leaves when they first flush in the spring. This hedge lines the sidewalk, and it is no stretch of imagination that the parked vehicles lining the street side of the sidewalk are most often a similar crimson red, set up for me to walk this red-lined gauntlet cum sidewalk. Someone had that planned out long ago.
This same activity of getting a color profile over the width of the road location I am at played out in grey three days ago, 03-19-2007, where there were two grey dressed gangstalkers walking in parallel on either side of the street, and another operative was pushing a grey plastic tote bin on wheels between them.
The ambulatory gangstalking followers are staying on me for longer I noticed today. They start them out by leading ahead and walking the same route that I am. Eventually I catch up and walk ahead. The line of sight interaction time is at least 10 minutes, and I had one of these in each direction. I also stopped at a store, a regular stop if I am in the neighborhood, and lo, if the person who strangely stood behind me at the traffic lights, also "happened" to be in the store, and somehow "I" forgot to check on this follower as she had already made her motives plain.
Earlier today, I got my native Indian ambulatory gangstalker male in exactly the same on-sidewalk location when coming and going to the grocery store. I haven't quite figured out why they need to plant the same person in the same place in opposite directions, but this is done more often.
And many cases of bright orange red clothes when I was returning from the doctor's office. There were at least three on the inbound leg, one being an absurd Bay blanket coat on this old duffer with a dark green walker, and two blue colored vehicles from opposite directions were waiting for us to clear this side road so they could cover our tracks.
1700h
Any uncontrolled thought or visualization begets me overhead pounding; the assholes had not made any warning noise, and out of the blue, the pounding starts up again. Earlier, while rinsing a dinner plate in the sink with the water running, the assholes put on a big clunk sound and a coincident zap. This confirms my suspicion of this bizarre fixation of noisestalking me doing the dishes.
2045h
I spent an hour cleaning up my movie bookmarks, some 18,000 of them (true), one of "my" pastimes when on the PC, in the hope I will be free enough one day to view them. That maybe two lifetimes worth even, though I am certain some paring down will be in order as some of the "cult film" sites are too indulgent in promoting mediocre movies for the sake of genre religion. It almost goes without saying that bookmarking, and the maintenance of them, is a perp noisetalked event, one very much to their liking. They seem to have no end of need for every variation of activity related to bookmarking and maintaining the file. The Firefox bookmark manager is much perferred over the MS Explorer equivalent.
Another suck job, vacuuming in the hallway, an unprecendented two days in succession, but I haven't looked to see if the trail of white color chads made of toilet paper and plastic were sucked up this time.
I got a ladder visitation for dinner tonight. In the adjacent parking lot outside my window, a large black pickup arrived with a 20' ladder with extensions. Just before taking the tortillas off the stove, he drove his pickup in front of the window between this and the building opposite, and of course the ladder passing by. He, and others, erected the ladder and put on some kind of roof maintenance show for about 20 minutes, while I had finished the dinner and the dishes and was back at this PC. They then drove out again, passing the ladder by within 3' of the building I am in. Regular readers will know that ladders on trades vans and pickups are ubiquitous in this city, and are in great profusion for any vehicular gangstalking activity.
2200h
I am getting some heavy irradiation of something off my LCD panel and it is causing vision problems. One last news item; in the past I have noted a number of suffocation deaths that occured in the past two years, in the form of disasters, e.g. mine explosions, ferry capsizings, the Helios aircraft crash where it ran out of oxygen, building collapses and a few more that don't come to mind. And I see another mining disaster in Russia, and I would not be surprised that the perp assholes were behind this. I repeat, there is something they want to know about earth-human energetics interaction that they need slowly dying bodies for, and all the better if this can be conducted at differing elevations and ground depths.
Anyhow, I am shooting my mouth off here, but there are too many coincidences with respect to these events, and the mode of death is the constant, asphyxiation. As these kinds of disasters had abated, I was hopeful we would not see any more in such quantity. But from my perch, it is situation normal, more disasters for the perp's quest.
Time to blogg off and call this done.
Since I got back from the grocery store, another mega-gangstalked event, the operatives have been filing out of this building frat house style, slamming the front door which serves as the "causal agent" to shake my room. One after the other, a mass migration, one at a time. The entire putative rooming house of 16 units has turned over at least once this morning. It does make me wonder what the next residence location is going to offer the assholes, as they have it all their way at present. That includes two vacuuming efforts in the hallway yesterday, which still left a trail of white colored debris, the toilet paper and plastic bag fragments litter trail, to lead from my door to the bathroom, only 3' away.
More race-based gangstaking at the grocery store earlier; the black dude gangstalker who cruised in awfully close to the checkout line in which I was last, then partially encircled me to hang around at the next checkout, closed, for a half minute and did no shopping. He was totally scripted to hang around there and do nothing in the way of genuine activity. Then he took off and came back a minute later, only to repeat this idiotic exercise again, 4' away. After a half minute, the Asian dude in navy blue arrived as a faux customer, hanging in the checkout lineup. He later went into sentry mode, where he stands still, this time back facing me, and stays still for about 20 seconds. Meanwhile, the long haired fucker in front of me had a bad case of itching hair, and kept up his scalp scratching act for as long as he was in the checkout line ahead of me, some two minutes. And the fact that he fit another demographic, the pony-tailed male, also "didn't occur to me". And that in itself is another example of a mind-fuck, where they are deleting my knowledge of their fuckery games while engaging in that specific activity. No Big Girl on duty at the grocery store today, as she has been there for nearly all weekday visits of the last two weeks. Maybe the perps decided that there was too much connection, and pulled her act. She must be someone I know who is in morph-over form.
As these "mental lapses" are occuring more often, and are situationally applied, I can only suspect that they are fucking with me all the more to cover their squalid tracks.
The usual plasma in the dark hallway when I got back; this is a daily given where they feign some kind of light to dark transition "eyesight problem" but supplying a plasmic fog of multi-colored spatter for me to walk through. It is about time some asshole explained this, as these vision assaults are constant now.
1610h
A visit to the doctor turned into a massive gangstalk in the waiting room. They brought in two huge 300 lb women to sit around, and the blonde woman who shows up at Tuesday yoga also "happened" to be there. Then after 5 minutes or so, she departed, not the usual waiting room behavior, but that is not uncommon amongst the freak show I have around me. As she crossed in front of me some 4' away, and on the opposite side of a low table, a red plasma flash went off for a second or less. Then 5 minutes she" showed up" again, sitting on the opposite side, and I never saw her re-enter the waiting area. She was on sentry duty at the doors to the clinician's only area, and to no surprise, was still there when I exited. She is a seen-before, and I don't know where, or else I am being fucked with in thinking that.
I got the doctor's "assistant" routine again while in his office; another Asian, this fellow being very fair skinned, abeit with black hair. So it would seem that the perps are going for an Asian skin tone color palette, and needed an "extra" to compare to the doctor.
It was most curious how that very red paper clip got on the floor of his office and remained there for the consult. Between the two of them, they couldn't of missed it. The doctor's new line is that he doesn't doubt that all these strange events are occuring, it is just that I need medication to help me deal with it. Har, har. That saves doing battle with him, as I am sure he had no choice as to refusing to play the game.
I takes 25 minutes to walk to the doctor's office, and for the second doctor visit in four weeks, the rain "happened" to be starting up just before I departed. I was allowed to wear a hat this time. And it almost goes without saying that the gangstalkers were out in force. The 2006 census reported near zero population growth for this area of Victoria called Oak Bay, and yet the traffic is horrific. The perps must of added at least 500 vehicles on in both directions. There were the usual clusters of reds, whites, greys and black vehicles, with selective addition of yellows, brown, greens and blues. The selective addition vehicles are usually accompanied by an escort of black, white and/or silver-grey vehicles.
It was a semi-eventful walk; I got the faux blind man and his rabelous cohort stunt, the latter on pointing and waving duty, who mysterious went ahead of his colleague as we were about to pass by. This momentarily left the blind man alone to observe, and he was following my movements toward him, and eventually past him, with his cane. His eyes looked normal as well and he had a big smile on his face. The whole stunt was likely to get me to vocalize that he didn't seem to blind to me. Then the rabelous one got into voicing something as I kept walking away.
This same stunt played out on the way home, almost at the same location with a woman with a stroller with various plastic rain protection on it who was getting into sidewalk territorial games, and who then forced me off the sidewalk. She then got into a long ramble about blaming me for being a sidewalk hog, telling me I needed to be a waiter and on and on as I kept walking. Two identical stunts of setting up some verbal interaction and having the operative keep babbling on after I have walked on. Fucking absurd.
I got a two sides brown ambulatory gangstalk enroute to the doctor's office. It so "happens" at this location there is a 8' long run of brown colored paint in the road gutter, next to the curb. And lo, if the brown coated gangstalker with a plastic hair bonnet didn't jaywalk across a four lane busy road that momentarily "happened" to be free of traffic, and end up on the sidewalk ahead of me and serving as a brown color source on my left side, and the brown paint on the road was on my right side. A brown color gauntlet in effect, and this play is more common of late, also "happening" for red and green as well. The local landscaping has a 30' run of a certain kind of hedge that has red leaves when they first flush in the spring. This hedge lines the sidewalk, and it is no stretch of imagination that the parked vehicles lining the street side of the sidewalk are most often a similar crimson red, set up for me to walk this red-lined gauntlet cum sidewalk. Someone had that planned out long ago.
This same activity of getting a color profile over the width of the road location I am at played out in grey three days ago, 03-19-2007, where there were two grey dressed gangstalkers walking in parallel on either side of the street, and another operative was pushing a grey plastic tote bin on wheels between them.
The ambulatory gangstalking followers are staying on me for longer I noticed today. They start them out by leading ahead and walking the same route that I am. Eventually I catch up and walk ahead. The line of sight interaction time is at least 10 minutes, and I had one of these in each direction. I also stopped at a store, a regular stop if I am in the neighborhood, and lo, if the person who strangely stood behind me at the traffic lights, also "happened" to be in the store, and somehow "I" forgot to check on this follower as she had already made her motives plain.
Earlier today, I got my native Indian ambulatory gangstalker male in exactly the same on-sidewalk location when coming and going to the grocery store. I haven't quite figured out why they need to plant the same person in the same place in opposite directions, but this is done more often.
And many cases of bright orange red clothes when I was returning from the doctor's office. There were at least three on the inbound leg, one being an absurd Bay blanket coat on this old duffer with a dark green walker, and two blue colored vehicles from opposite directions were waiting for us to clear this side road so they could cover our tracks.
1700h
Any uncontrolled thought or visualization begets me overhead pounding; the assholes had not made any warning noise, and out of the blue, the pounding starts up again. Earlier, while rinsing a dinner plate in the sink with the water running, the assholes put on a big clunk sound and a coincident zap. This confirms my suspicion of this bizarre fixation of noisestalking me doing the dishes.
2045h
I spent an hour cleaning up my movie bookmarks, some 18,000 of them (true), one of "my" pastimes when on the PC, in the hope I will be free enough one day to view them. That maybe two lifetimes worth even, though I am certain some paring down will be in order as some of the "cult film" sites are too indulgent in promoting mediocre movies for the sake of genre religion. It almost goes without saying that bookmarking, and the maintenance of them, is a perp noisetalked event, one very much to their liking. They seem to have no end of need for every variation of activity related to bookmarking and maintaining the file. The Firefox bookmark manager is much perferred over the MS Explorer equivalent.
Another suck job, vacuuming in the hallway, an unprecendented two days in succession, but I haven't looked to see if the trail of white color chads made of toilet paper and plastic were sucked up this time.
I got a ladder visitation for dinner tonight. In the adjacent parking lot outside my window, a large black pickup arrived with a 20' ladder with extensions. Just before taking the tortillas off the stove, he drove his pickup in front of the window between this and the building opposite, and of course the ladder passing by. He, and others, erected the ladder and put on some kind of roof maintenance show for about 20 minutes, while I had finished the dinner and the dishes and was back at this PC. They then drove out again, passing the ladder by within 3' of the building I am in. Regular readers will know that ladders on trades vans and pickups are ubiquitous in this city, and are in great profusion for any vehicular gangstalking activity.
2200h
I am getting some heavy irradiation of something off my LCD panel and it is causing vision problems. One last news item; in the past I have noted a number of suffocation deaths that occured in the past two years, in the form of disasters, e.g. mine explosions, ferry capsizings, the Helios aircraft crash where it ran out of oxygen, building collapses and a few more that don't come to mind. And I see another mining disaster in Russia, and I would not be surprised that the perp assholes were behind this. I repeat, there is something they want to know about earth-human energetics interaction that they need slowly dying bodies for, and all the better if this can be conducted at differing elevations and ground depths.
Anyhow, I am shooting my mouth off here, but there are too many coincidences with respect to these events, and the mode of death is the constant, asphyxiation. As these kinds of disasters had abated, I was hopeful we would not see any more in such quantity. But from my perch, it is situation normal, more disasters for the perp's quest.
Time to blogg off and call this done.
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