Recent Advances in Mind Control of Temporal Awareness

1125h
Another case of longtime habit disruption/cum mind-fucking. I "somehow forgot" to shave the mustache portion of my face today, again, something that has happened only since the harassment started up, and about two years ago when they could first fuck me out of this part of my daily routine.

A five minute trip to LD for toothpaste only turned into a nonstop freak show from begining to end. It all began when I had just readied myself to go out and my in-town brother "happened" to call about moving the last of my belongings from his place. That necessitated a call to the building manager to unlock the storage area before I headed out the door. Regular readers will know the the microphone pickup of the phone serves as a surveillance device, as do all sensors, in remotely assaying one's energetic activity (both mind and body scalar energies, IMHO).

And while talking to my brother, "I" (as in mind-fucked me) mixed up the words 'yesterday' and 'today', which has never happened before, proof to me of mind control or else a severe clinical impairment that the doctor chooses to ignore, take your pick. I did not "notice" that I made this "mistake" until my brother pointed it out to me. This mind-fucking at this level is a new advancement and may well represent an increase of the perp's ability to fuck my speech and syntax in greater degree than ever before.

The theme of the perp stunts for the short shopping trip to LD was white and blue colored clothing; all white, white pants, white hat and same color sweater as my teal blue vest, white and black. And also, the mid blue of jeans, with a shift to light blue clothing when in the LD store. Listing the constant gangstalk freakshow events in bullet form:

• a palette jack gangstalk, the operative crossing the street on a no walk signal with a palette jack in tow, and then turning 90 degrees and crossing the same street I was, paralleling me, he crossing behind a silver grey Volvo wagon at the traffic light,
• the male buddy act, both in late 50's with white hair, bumping into each other and almost holding hands passing me, yet again, at a sidewalk constriction,
• a "just sitting there" (sentry duty) dude all in jeans wear opposite a constriction in the sidewalk where his deep red metallic red bicycle was located with his same colored helmet,
• a "just standing there" act at the top of the stairs, this 50 y.o. dude in the same blue clothing, but not jeans wear, and not even the cigarette break cover story,
• three MIW, men in white, the "staff" of a new bakery that is next to a supermarket (unbelievably), three of them, loosely clustered outside their store to force me to walk between them,
  
• two more gangstalkers ahead of me, one with a same colored sweater as my teal vest,
• two more gangstalkers erupted from the LD store, seemingly together, one in a wheelchair, representational of the handicapped demographic,
• a white haired male in a light blue color dress shirt and a large gut (aka fat guy) which was seen in profile schleps in ahead of me, then he slows down in the entry area to "peruse" the newspapers,
• two more "staff" come at me as I am on my way to get toothpaste, one wearing the same light blue colored dress shirt as the fat guy,
• at least two more faux customer gangstalkers pop out from behind a pillar as I am on my way to the checkout,
• at the check out the fat guy (above) in a light blue shirt is still at the newspapers, putting on the bend-over act in "deciding" which newspaper to select,
• another light blue shirted male staff member cruises by, 8' away, while still in the checkout line,
• a large woman in black sneaks up behind me to putz with the magazines 2' from me, also doing a bend-over behind me, as an ostensible staff member, though not in blue,
• as I finish up at the checkout I get a "customer" standing in my way, and I get zoned out on dealing with my change from a $20, one of which is a $5 bill, also in light blue
• I get out of the store and there is a large woman in brown clothing on the cell phone blocking egress,
• another elderly woman (a certified demographic) gangstalker comes at me to then arrive in a walkway constriction point where a manekin is placed on a chair outside a clothing store
  
• then the non-jeans wearing but same color of blue dude on sentry duty (above) has decided to gangstalk me at the corner,
• the wheelchair and "friend" act (above) who should of been long gone as they exited the LD store when I entered are putzing about on the walkway, and appear to be engaged in some mindless stunt, all smiles,
• once I get near my apartment, a male with the mental and physical handicap act "happens" to be entering the door ahead of me, ("meeting" there for the third time in as many weeks), wearing the hated white pants with a black colored coat on (an open-mouther act too),
• there were a few more freaks enroute, and in the LD store, and I cannot recall the remainder.

1740h
My brother came to drop off the last of my belongings that are stored at his place; he stretched this out to arrive at the time I would ordinarily be making lunch, to extend my gangstalking exposure time without having a recent meal (only breakfast since 0830h).

And as it so happened, some of the more useful items came in this load, two garbage cans, the toilet cleaning brush and the almighty plunger, the most needed item of in dealing with the shit games the perps keep planting on me, as past blogs have detailed.

Moving the belongings from his van to the the door was the usual gangstalked event; one of the fuckers was in a white varsity type jacket with white leather arms and a dark blue torso portion. He was firstly on his cell phone outside the building, and then joined us later for a ride in the elevator. The children from the putative daycare on this floor were in the hallway sleeping in their stroller, and later, the daycare operator was walking the same stroller outside near us unloading boxes. And by dint of fluke, related to the current perp innudation of the color orange everywhere, the child's blanket was orange, and it was clear I was to see it in the hallway under artificial lighting conditions, and then again in daylight. Other shiftless males walked by, and then reversed direction within a few minutes to come from the opposite direction, especially the brown skinned dude with his mouth hanging open.

As I was busy humphing boxes, I cannot recall all the gangstalking action that was coursing about, but I did note that my brother parked beside the curb gutter puddle again, the only instance of a puddle within many blocks, as the water was not sourced from any recent rain. Fortuneately, there were no puddle dumping games, even if we had to work over top of it, as he parked further away from the curb this time.

Then after moving the boxes into my apartment, my brother has a "sudden" liking to my office chair, and uses this as an excuse to sit in and try it out. Of course he passed on the offering of an identical free chair last week, as he took it to the local charity for me. This was a feint for him in his brown coat to sit in it and provide the sickos with some brown color energetics assay possibilities as I don't have such a colored garment. He also go into his sunglasses again for no reason, as he was in the shade or inside the building. It is the second time he has put on shades midway through moving my items to my apartment. Naturally, he was evasive as to why he put them on, and had them slipped down his nose for the elevator trip up. The operatives wearing shades even on rainy days is nothing new, all part of the sick minded freak show that the assholes have cast me into.

The unpacking of boxes is also an excuse for the perps to put things back in that they have stolen previously. And it so "happened", that the fuckers who stole my car speakers and CD deck from my parents' place only the week before I wanted them installed in readying my vehicle for turnover to my daughter, put these items in my boxes. There was no way any kind of mistake was made, and my mother was "attempting" to understand how these items went missing from her house at the time.

Related to this, the installation of these items could be a birthday present for my daughter who is now driving the vehicle. And her birthday is three weeks hence.

And part of the arrangement in my sorting through my belongings is that I truck the unwanted items to the charity a half block down the street. I made three trips to accomplish this, and there were perps and gangstalkers all over me each time, trying out new colors of clothing, and vehicles passing by in the street, just ahead of me crossing it.

And the gate to the charity was closed, but a woman in crimson red, down to her tights, was on duty (more like, was arranged to be there), and I called out if they wanted three loads of items, and she walked the 40' of driveway to let me in. I saw this as another case of slow distance dependent testing of a person in red, as other red garment shows came on in the elevator, as well as five at a glance deep metallic red vehicles posted nearby. Anyhow, I got all the moving done; tossing out a whole lot of stuff, and keeping books that are germane to this ongoing harassment fuckery.

As part of that, some "new" books also showed up in the boxes, and they might well be perp planted. Because they can now fuck with my recall at will, I cannot be absolutely sure if I purchased them or not. That will make for some reading material on hand, but the same provisio may apply, I won't be able to understand the contents thanks to the perp sickos who have impaired my learning abilities since birth. This has been documented since 1960, and also in 1998. Though, I also suspect that they dynamically fuck with what I learn in realtime, as the number of "don't get it" episodes has gone up since they began their overt harassment in 2002.

As part of the moving boxes to the charity or my storage locker exercise, one of the elevators was shut down, and this served as a reason to pack the elevators with more gangstalkers and for longer wait times. Also, the elevator serviceman come by for two gangstalkings, which might relate to the fact that he was at the bottom of one of the elevator shafts for energetics interaction. He was dressed in a "safe" color, navy blue.

The sickos were also trying out less favored colors on me. I mentioned the lady in all red above, but they also packed the elevators with two operatives wearing the same shirt color, burgundy red, appearing to be separate parties. On my last trip outside to donate my belongings, they put a woman in a red leather jacket some 60' ahead of me.

Before that, a blonde man in a varsity like jacket of white leather arms and a navy blue wool torso portion was hanging around on sentry duty outside the apartment building on his cell phone. He then disappeared for one box load into the building, and then "showed" up in the elevator beside me. This may have attempted to leverage their earlier games with white and blue on the earlier trip to the LD store, per above. By my estimation, the perps are sucking wind bigtime in getting their colors, gangstalking genders and the rest of their vile energetics fuckery quantified. This doesn't stop them, they just keep fucking me around all the more; five years of this and counting.

1940h
The typo fuckery has been increased of late; sometimes the perps have me go through four attempts to spell a given word, enough to rile me up and vocalize my complaint.

And the overhead hyperactivity has started up; the rumbling noise that purports to be the sliding glass door. Not so, it is directly overhead when it should be 8' away, the constant use belies any normal "resident" behavior, and lastly, it would not come through anywhere as near as loud through concrete floors/ceilings. It is another projected noise from the endless database of the perps and their thankless jerkaround that continues.

Last night they got into unabashed needle like jabbings; while taking a pee, the fuckers jabbed me in the leg for no reason. A few minutes later I changed out of my clothes, and when horizontal in bed, the fuckers jabbed me in the same place on my leg. As best as I know, that is a blatant pain to neural energetics test in the vertical, and then the prone position, a fishing expedition looking for the neural energetics correlates of the two positions, along with correlating that to the urine they would of been assaying also. It never ends; this thankless sadism after being covertly fucked with for 47 years. Now I am getting masered in the eyes again, as they attempt to bring their fuzzy zingers to follow my central vision.

2000h
Another outbreak of hyperactive rumbling overhead was started as I was reviewing my journalling above; the fuckers go hyperactive when I am editing my work. Any noise that is vogue will do, no matter the apparent absurdity of the cover story, even if there is one.

I am still pissed the perps won't let me bend down the way I want to, which is always at the knees, and not at the waist as all their fucking operatives and gangstalkers do. Only after three weeks in this apartment did they even let me be aware of my own habits, never mind the clumsy and stupid manner in reaching down that they have imposed upon me. I reckon this planted "awareness" is to create more friction and annoyance more than anything. The trick of letting me in on how I am being fucked with, so to have me vocalize more.

More overhead rumbling as the absurdity of this projected noise without a plausible cover story continues. Now a car alarm has started up, and I get at least one per day now.

There has been an increase in the number of red plasma flashings of late; they will plant them anytime I close my eyes or blink, but of late they have been putting them in my peripherial vision either as an augmentation of the color of an object similarly colored, or else a blatant "in my face" blast of red. Yesterday there were more red flashings sitting in front of me sitting above the sidewalk. In the past, they have bombarded me with red plasma flashings, and it is extremely disorientating. While walking in dappled shade, the perps also put on red flashes in a stroboscopic manner, as if this were "normal" passing through light and shade.

2225h
After doing some Bookmarks broken link maintenance, the perps decided to crank up the vision impairment fuckery in both eyes, so that was the end of the noble effort. There is a decided interation of the noise events; the overhead rumbling, the loud motorcycles trailing off into the distance, the bus noises (now louder, and with a turbo whine), glass bashing, and then it repeats again, likely culminating in the vison fucking to end my activity for the day.

Time to call this a posting and blog off, and pardon the typos and other syntax problems, as I am being mind-fucked out of editing my work.

Left Leg Jabbing

1245h
I have been getting the continued jabbing in my left calf as if a thorn was lodged in my jeans at that location. And no, it is too early to pick any blackberries, and I have not been amongst thorny plants. Besides which; no embedded causal thorn can be seen, and my leg is never red from the purported sensation of being jabbed and scratched. It is all remotely designed and applied, and is adroitly applied when I make a step, and my jean's left calf section touches my leg. And curiously, these are applied at high perp interest moments; the usual ones; doing the dishes, opening the door, and a few others that I am not allowed to recall.

Earlier, it was the inaugural Chicken Run for this new residence location, and it has a particular focus as the fuckers only have a two minute on-foot commute by which to exact their color games. I was just out of the front door when the fuckers had three brown dressed women going by or coming at me, one who went on to lead-ahead gangstalking, right to the front door of the grocery store. It was a white haired geriatric case dressed in an atrocious combination of a olive drab fleece vest and brown pants. Though I was wearing my teal blue vest, it is beside my olive drab (sort of) raincoat, and I find I get as many gangstalkers in both colors of late.

I suffered three more bright orange dressed or backpack wearing ambulatory gangstalkers before I got into the grocery store, and was lead-ahead inside gangstalked by the waddling male act. I don't know what it is, but just about half of all males that I see are waddling along, as if packing an extra 40 lbs up front when they aren't. This routine is familiar to me, as the fuckers planted an autistic, or autistic act, as an employee on me for my last year of in-town work before I went to Seattle, and this guy waddled all the time.

My in-store route was planned for me; the blonde women were blocking the olive oil (my supply has had an accelerated draw down for reasons only the perps would know), then the chocolate (none there, only the white (cocoa oil) kind), then the GF bread for which I was skunked again for the fourth time this week, and onto the cheese after bypassing the couple having an extended discussion at the hot chicken display. There were two more "staff" in white enroute to the cheese, one bent over the ubiquitous stocking cart with brown boxes, and another packing a 14" stack of orange cheese against his chest. Then back to the chicken counter where the debating couple act was still there, not even looking at the chicken, and then back to the olive oil section where the perps have my usual variety on the bottom of the display, with an unattended stocking cart with brown boxes on it placed oppositely. I then got a newspaper and then to the checkout where a particularly strange behaving operative was fucking about, almost in the line, then not, then in line ahead of me.

She had this grotesque orange sweater under a white coat, and did not put her few items on the checkout conveyor belt. Nor did she move ahead when her items were being checked out, but stood there, and with the arranged feints and cretin-like act, she draped herself over my hot chicken for at least a whole minute. After more gangstalking from the light yellow jacketed Asian woman who was nearly parked up my asshole, I finally got out of there, and got a bright orange shirted male gangstalker with a white and black do-rag on his head, now the official gangstalker male head adornment.

The I got a woman and two children act bounding about in the building's lobby. The kid with the brown hat on made a special effort to run in front of me while I was headed for the elevator controls, and the woman put on the stare-at-me act for no reason. (When she had no reason to be sitting in the lobby, as there are no apartments sized for families in this building).

One could conclude that brown and orange were the prominent gangstalking colors for the five minute trip to the grocery store and back, but there were also two light yellow wearing fuckers at the checkouts as well, and possibly one of the blondes was also dressed in this color. Anyhow, it was quite a lot to pack into that short time, and they made good use of it.

I also had a static display of vehicle sizing; a deep red metallic painted sedan at a metered parking stall, and a deep red metallic scooter parked immediately in front of it in the next stall (in file). As detailed in past blogs, the perps have some kind of research interest with the scale of everything I see, and this would be such a juxtaposition.

The perps have me on a >9 hours of sleep routine again, so it is back to the bad old days of the last residence location when this became the imposed minumum, save the odd time they kept me awake all night. The napping bullshit might be waived today as there is a Feral Family dinner at my in-town brother's, the guy they couldn't get a hold of only 30 minutes before that. Hard to believe that wasn't arranged, which is where they might of been yesterday, at rehearsals that they engage in beforehand. This I have surmised as the rest of the family always have a mysterious accounting of their time in advance of my out-of-town brother "officially" coming to town, not his likely morph-over games that he was tied to at the last putative rooming house location.

And in conforming to the imposed "normal", I now get people confabbing outside my door in the hallway; the rooming house "neighbor" behavior is being resurrected outside my door again, act by act. And also, the loud stereo again. The fuckers would not let my ear muffs block out the sounds, they came through unattenuated again.

The most pathetic stunt going, which the perps like me to react to, is their bad whistling routine. The "passer by", puts on an terrible whistling imitation. These can "erupt" at the checkout, on the street, on the bus, etc. They cannot get enough high frequency noise on me at all their desired locations it seems, so they have their ambulatory gangstalkers put on this act.

1425h
I am being zombied in some way; totally blanked out while I read online book reviews, and while the mouseclick stalking continues. That is, applying noise at the very instant I click my mouse to see a new display. It if fucking tiresome to be under this degree of scrutiny. Now the sirens have started up, and as soon as I noted that, some more clanging noise came on from overhead.

2200h
I am back from a Feral Family dinner at my in-town brother's place. In addition it was a "brown on brown" race based test for the perps. The in-town brother has a on-off native Indian girlfriend and she "happened" to be there when I arrived. She also had her three y.o grandaughter with her, and were putzing in the garden for the most part.

The child's mother arrived and so did my out-of-town brother, East Indian wife and two year old daughter with our parents. From what I could tell, this was a crossover of the two parties, before dinner. There was a native Indian woman, an East Indian woman and the remainder Caucasian, our immediate family, mother, father and three boys, me being the TI the rest of the assholes are chasing down and harassing. This meant the brown raced members were with us for dinner for the very first time, and it is mighty curious the perp assholes hadn't arranged this years ago.

And I noted that my out-of-town brother's light metallic brown vehicle was also parked further up the road so it could be seen from the dinner table, specifically by me as a third substantial brown object for the fuckers to reference to. Spatially, it sat between the two brown raced women as viewed from my assigned perch at the dinner table.

It was the usual roast beef dinner, the one he makes all the time, and one that seems to be perp mandated for color and content; everything is plain. My mother was beside me, and frequently blundered into me, the "accidentally on purpose" act which is so fucking tired, Then she began this on the couch afterward.

My neice played with all manner of plastic toys while we had dinner, and made sure there was the noise and the color of the plastic to go with it. She even brought this day-glo stuffed toy for me to see while dining, and then it was in my view from further away, likely as a color reference test. Later, she wrapped it up in a white towel to "put it to bed".

There were various other feints and games of aligning my niece with the native Indian woman, then the two brown race women together, and other combinations. They each played with a bright crimson red 3' long stuffed snake toy, flipping it about for perp red testing I assume. Other perp-helpful games were to have my neice bash away on a child's xylophone for noise and vibration creation, something near and dear to their sick souls.

I took the bus to my in-town brother's place and was promised a drive home. But, it "turned out" there was no room in the vehicle, something they would have figured out, and I was not allowed to point this out to them, but was mind-fucked into accepting the dodge of getting a cab home.

The cab came, and I did my goodbyes, except my out-of-town brother was missing. I went outside, and there both brothers were standing like sentries waiting for me to pass between them, with one red brakelight of the cab brightly illuminated between them. I have seen this before, where two gangstalkers combine to bound the featured object/gangstalker between them, and this was from that same playbook. So as I approached the cab, I moved to the side to foil this alignment, and then they moved in unison to attempt to maintain the lighted brakelight between them. Anyhow, I did my final goodbyes, and took the yellow colored cab back to my place. It was a Ford Escape Hybrid, and I must say, I was impressed that it could be run from electrical power off the line, and seamlessly switch to the gasoline engine almost noiselessly.

Anyhow, I was cast into the headspace of knowing what the most of the game was while it was unfolding, and I got my stare-at-the-freak acts from the cab driver and the woman who departed with her daughter before the dinner began. This is the third visitation of my out-of-town brother and family in four visits where I meet them for the first (and only this time), somewhere else other than my parent's place. I don't know quite what the deal is, but perhaps the perps are devising more difficulty in their setups.

05-13-2007
1040h
I got fucked out of posting this last night, and here it is, belatedly.

Clinking on Cue

03-18-2007, 1150h
I have done my daily round of news trolling on the web, and it is always a noisestalked affair, in the form of the noisescape, the generalized noise, and the specifically targetted noise. In the latter case, upon reading the word "FBI", the glass bottle bashing sounded for one note. And as I wrote this, a hallway "resident" answered her cell phone only 5' from my door. It almost goes without saying that the cell phones seem to offer perp related benefits of a transient nature, likely the localized electromagnetic emissions. There are no end of them in my proximity, and that includes a call to the operative in the next door bathroom at 2315h last night, before her seeming shower, bath and toilet flushing act.

I got the double sentry honor guard for taking out my garbage last night. My garbage was a bonanza of some 10 boxboard toss-outs from the Cling Wrap (an objective of considerable harassment), chocolates, dental products etc. It was an all-time concentration of boxboard with the addition of the chicken packaging and the fat and bone that I took off the cooked bird when I got back from the grocery store yesterday. As I exited the front door, there was an operative ("rooming house resident") on either side of the stairway who then each turned by unified silent cue to enter the house via the front door that I opened. And strangely, the outside porch light was off when it is usually on.

And as part of that, the one operative who I am most familiar with of the two honor guards had a green shamrock painted on the side of this face that he turned toward me. This was the same as the house manager who had stopped by earlier in the day inquiring about my intent to give notice. In other words, there was a cover story over the St. Patrick's day celebration, and the green paint on their cheeks was part of the color exposure show that goes on interminably as one of the underpinnings of ambulatory and vehicular gangstalking. If this is where the assholes are at, painting shamrocks on their face once a year, then this depraved harassment has got a long run ahead of it, at least two more years by my reckoning, after five years of it so far.

A look at my email, even if spam, and the Inbox counter was meddled with to reflect a higher total than the extant unread email; observing this also got me a cell phone stalking in the hallway, only 2' away outside my door. I have yet to understand why the public hallway is a location for private banter. It as if this mentality is infectious as they all do this. Or more accurately, it is the orchestrated procedure for introducing specific noise (human voice) and commensurate electromagnetic activity within close proximity to me on a as-needed basis.

03-19-2007, 1350h
I am back to my room/cell after a Feral Family gangstalk time in front of the TV for dinner and later evening viewing. In that, I get to watch 60 Minutes, and that has to be one of the few regular shows that I see. But there were two shows from the UK, and the perps like me to hear British accents of all stripes, one of their obsessions.

I am getting the overhead clunking as I type this, and many of the words, especially nouns, seem to be of significant perp interest.

There were plenty of masers and plasma beams flitting around in the living room at my parents' place last night and both parents/quislings pretended not to notice anything. There were even off-TV plasma flashes as solid colors and a new variety, a checkerboard matrix about 2' in diameter.

1500h
I am getting a sustained noise flurry at the moment, and the plastic bag rustling and shaking is still going on in the hallway as I type this, and some throat clearing shills/operatives have arrived outside my room in the adjacent parking lot. (Meanwhile, I am getting severe typo sabotage as I key this in; it is a post Feral Family Visitation Monday, and the perps go apeshit with their stunts and noise games then).

For all my teabreak I was noisestalked, the most well timed was this absurd sudden onset squeak noise that they play, this one timed exactly to when I placed a square of chocolate in my mouth. It is at least the second such coincidence over chocolate eating this past week. And my outside noise crowd has now arrived, the throatclearing is a standard noise.

And left calf jabbing, as if a needle is being poked into the back of my leg from no ostensible cause, also with exquisite timing, for the exact moment I picked up the black plastic teapot lid. (The one they partially broke as they wanted the plastic to flap around more.) And I also have tea at my parents place from glazed stone pots, one is red and the other is blue. Surely that is enough teapot variation. Wrong, they are still fucking with every aspect of tea making and consumption, with the chocolate being its own perp interest, likely for its color. I noticed that an unglazed pot was "left behind" on the dining room table near where I sit, so there must be something about the glazes of pottery that is pissing off the perps. Once again, not my problem, so why am I being harassed over it?

One can be sure that no perp has the gumption to account for themself and tell me, that I know.

And when I drove my parents' Ford Escape into town to then park and get out at this putative rooming house that I live in, there was not only a delay in my mother assuming getting to the driver's seat, but there was at least a two ring circus going on outside as I was seated in the driver's seat, engine off, and listening to her.

First was this ongoing clown show, under the cover story of being a donations charity only 30' away, the Women In Need (WIN) charity which sells used clothing and furniture. Their truck is usually posted on the street parking, and their operatives regularly play with brown cardboard boxes (just when I look out the window), plastic bags, racks of clothing, brown colored furniture etc., and take racks of clothing across the street and back to another storage area. They got into translucent blue plastic bag lugging at first, then moved two grey plastic tote bins across the road to the tailgate of their truck. For the second one, the operative "decided" to play a game, and jumped onto the wheeled tote and rode it as if it were an oversized skateboard. Intentionally, he "forgot" about the curb, and when the tote bin contacted it, he deliberately rolled himself off onto the sidewalk and the tote bin also flipped and dumped its contents of clothes onto the sidewalk. (This may have also served the perps' fixations around concrete and its energetics of human interactions). So there he was, splayed out on the sidewalk with these clothes on and around him. And it was quite clear that he deliberately rolled off, it was not a consequence of the tote bin hitting the curb.

There was that banality, but picking up the grey theme, there were two operatives on each side of the street, walking W. in parallel. On the S. side was a woman in a two tone grey shawl and hood combination garment, and on the N. side was a man in black pants and a black jacket with a large grey-black Adidas logo on the back. So it would seem, that the perps were testing the color grey, with some black reference colors, in the form of clothing on a male and female, and in the form of plastic (the tote bin) which was used to bridge the street between the ambulatory operatives.

Then when my mother got out at the driver's side but still seated with the open door, she then had a yellowish piece of paper in hand, and went into an explanation about how there was a weaving exposition on in a few weeks. As I saw it, this was about more delays in getting in and out of the vehicle, which are getting more pathetic, protracted and obvious from her actions.

Past readers will know that I get to see a considerable number of people egressing their vehicles at any given moment on the street. They are even getting more blatant about having all four doors open, leaving the trunk open, and otherwise lounging at their vehicles when this behavior never happened with this frequency before. On any given 15 minute walk along thoroughfares there is at least 10% of them with doors or trunk open. My mother's delays over vehicle egress are not unexpected; it fits the pattern of all the other shills and operatives.

1550h
More hallway aerosol spraying has started up, under the cover of "air freshener". Once my mother was uncharacteristically gung ho on me getting the plug-in kind for my apartment in Seattle when she never used them herself. I never did figure that one out until recent weeks, or more like, I was not allowed to recall that fact and make that association until my brain jailers let me in on what I would know if I wasn't being fucked with. Nor was I allowed to know this fact and figure out that she was in on this sick minded invasion and harassment until the script called for it, some 7 months later.

1705h
More clinking, clunking, door slamming, room shaking and other well timed noises for the past hour or so of troving through online world music. Back to the frat house model and the steady stream of "residents" tromping through the building. As this is the pre-mealtime moment, the perps like to lay on the noise at this time, always coordinated with the excitement (to them) of selecting, cutting, pasting (Windows actions) and bookmarking websites, in this case, music. Then they now have me do the same for cinema, bookmarking potential films should I ever be permitted to get out of "brain jail" and live an unfettered life.

And for real excitement, they plant the name of a film in a music review, and have me attend to both within the same activity. Truly the stuff of sick and depraved minds, the ones of the "grey stalking" earlier.

1850h
The perps got me, (read mind-fucked me) into a rare rage state again, as this is the Psychopathic Assault Mondays again. This is the day they "borrow" whatever they have learned in the stayover at my parents and are applying it here. Something like that. They flicked the cheese about (again), flicked chicken pieces, jabbed me in the leg and ass with a pin pricking sensation, flicked dishes water about in impossible trajectories, and noisestalked me the entire time. Currently, as I type this, they have started up the overhead clunking again, and seem to be using it on "my" stock phrases that I use. (More like, am allowed to use).

And they have also been keeping the vision assaults going, particularly my right eye, which seems to indicate that they want to temporarily remove it from the neural processing so that they can look at what else to detect in real time. Consistent with past Mondays, it will take at least an hour to get to sleep tonight, just to keep this vile depravity going for as long as they can.

1915h
The perps have me on cranked up mood tonight; they are at their forehead numbing games which I detest, and have taken to creating a knocking noise that somehow creates a vibration under my chair, vibrating all of me momentarily. And as I type this, the assholes have started someone talking on the cell phone outside my door. Fucking bizarre.

They have poured on the rain outside again, and this has some benefit for the assholes, though many past winters have been exceptionally dry.

The collective woo-hoos are also playing tonight; this is the putative male group who are watching sports on TV, and something exciting occurs to warrant the exclamation. The thing is, they are too well timed with the usual stalkable activities that I do, mouse clicking, page re-displays, bookmarking etc.

2020h
More ass jabbing as I am bookmarking promising world music artists. And because my PC's sound got taken out in the last repair of the two hard drives, I cannot sample them to affirm my intuition. That is the way it goes as a matter of course. And while doing this, a succession of operatives departed the building, all slamming the front door that serves as the cover story for shaking my room. There are at least four rooms between me and the front door, and it is most odd that none of them complain about room shaking and the putative cause. But of course, I am likely the only resident in here if the last apartment building was anything to go by.

2140h
The perps have launched a noise flurry, including a noisy mufflered vehicle under my window, and have it idling away, making noise and vibration. All this sprang forth as I was looking at concrete building systems. It has been noted in past blogs, where the perps put on a mound of fresh concrete and placed it on a flatbed truck for me to pass by. Later in the same day had a large capacity redi-mix truck execute a right angle turn in front of me when I was walking on the sidewalk. And while tonight's capers were going on, they also jammed smells up my nose. What is their problem that they cannot come out of the closet and negotiate a expeditious avenue to their game playing fuckery?

And considering how many concrete pouring jobs I have been involved with in past house improvements, it is unbelievable that this collection of clowns is still chasing me with redi-mix trucks around town. (They are a once per week frequency). I have long come to the conclusion that the perps are not only organizationally depraved, but fucking psychotic crazy.

2250h
It has been relatively quiet for the past hour, and the uninterupted use of my earmuffs probably helped, but as always, I am sure it is helping the perps more than me.

One recent advent has been the occasional flares of red colored plasma in my field of view, usually peripherial vision. It appears that they cannot get enough of that color in front of me, and only in selective exposures. Not a big deal at present.

This is enough tedious detail for a posting, and time to blog off.