2130h
A busy day today, and I am only getting started now to blog about it, so it all won't get done, and I will continue this posting, or resume with story telling in tomorrow's posting.
I just had a meeting with a supposed local TI, the first such in over six years of making this vile life rape known. (And the sirens have come to join me while I blog, now on the third cascade.) I am not convinced she was legit, and there were plenty of oddities in her story, never mind having the perp's favorite portable color reference object in hand, a 9"x12" yellow colored envelope in her hand the entire time, unsealed even. It was about 40 minutes of conversing on a brown plastic wood bench in a covered courtyard, outside the public library which she said would be open, but wasn't. She gets aerial surveillance and some vehicular surveillance as far as I can tell, not the same level of my profound distortion of conventional reality and relentless mindfuck games. We were about to depart and go our separate ways when a blonde woman exited the adjacent building and "happened" to know the woman TI I was talking to. Another one of those managed "Cheers" events, which was a little too rich for my probability meter. OK, it was a setup, all for having me sit on brown plastic bench for 40 minutes at nightime, under glass and near plenty of red-brown brick, as a setup prior to me returning to my place and having tea and chocolate, albeit a much deeper color of brown.
She seemed to have a Germanic accent in speaking English, and was also slipping in plenty of didactic (noise of excessive street barfing from outside as I type this), statements about "you should do....". Fuck you, I don't need to hear this from anyone, especially a newbie who has at least an order of magnitude less harassment than I do. I got her didactic treatment for medications I take, getting a gaussmeter (been there, done that), become an activist by soliciting for TI's in this town (social isolation is complete, so why change it?), getting binoculars to see her aircraft borne harassors (not mine, hers), and a few others along the way. That must be straight from the perp manual on How To Piss Me Off. My perp abetting father is didactic, and I have no fucking time for anyone to tell me what to do if they don't collaboratively engage with my experiences. And who knows, perhaps there are deeper reasons going back to the lost years of ages 2 to 5, where there is no recall, (purged IMHO) save some sketchy recollections from living in Montreal in 1956 to 1957.
There was some limited gangstalking while we were talking, the most evident being a dude some 50' away, walking toward us, and he had a Caucasian skin toned brown toque on and had his head tipped down, displaying the top of his head. When I first looked I could not make out where his face was, as the touque looked skin colored, and I am sure the perps dithered my perception to "not recognize" what was really happening. So, after a few seconds of stunned gazing at this indeterminate being, he picks his head up and looks forward for me to see that he had a perfectly normal human face, all the more identifiable by wearing dark framed glasses. Just another fucking little game, a whole three seconds of fuckery related to foiling my ability to recognize a face from that distance.
I stayed at the home of the First Feral Family last night after watching Global TV Vancouver news, 60 Minutes, Doc Martin and New Tricks, followed by the CBC news and then the last half hour of a documentary about Tommy Chong, of Cheech and Chong, and his travails in jail. He got 9 months incarceration, and was the celebrity there with many of the inmates mugging for pictures with him. It made for good comedic fodder afterwards.
And I am getting aware that some of the above TV programs are becoming more "involved" or aligned with harassment themes and activities. Last week on Doc Martin they had a psychotic doing dangerous things until brought to justice in an unlikely scenario, and last night it was a septic pipe getting hooked up to the doctor's dishwasher and poisoning the patients owing to a new (blonde) assistant he had while the regular (sly) receptionist was out of town on a course. The shit theme is highly ranked as a perp obsession, related to their brown theme.
Instead of the regular Sunday night Chris Gailius anchor, Global TV Vancouver news had a blonde woman announcer (Anne Drewa) and a substitute woman weather announcer. Christe Gordon is the regular meterologist on Sundays, and is drop dead gorgeous. I could listen to her patter all day long, something that isn't lost on the perps who arrange my parents to be doing odd things when she is on or else having me miss most of her segment, or else only catch her with the mute button still on, or other combinations of sound, sight, TV obstructing (one parent lingering in front of the TV to obstruct my view), disrupting and other stunts that seem to be related to impeding me from fully engaging in her weather report. Last night, there was a substitute female weather announcer who I cannot place in the above link of Global personnel, and I swear, she was just like Christie Gordon in morph-over; only a slightly different voice but with the same patter and cadence, same inflections and emotional content and body language. I remarked on this unusual similarity to my mother, and she gave me some blow-off answer about them being trained the same. I just thought it to be very interesting that they were so alike except in appearance, even their height seemed to be the same. In all of my decades of TV news watching, I have never seen two announcers so alike in their style. Perhaps if I could find the Sunday news from 11-23-2008 and review it I could be better informed on just what was going on, and if it was regular station personnel after all.
Then onto 60 Minutes, catching it 15 minutes into the show because of a change in the channels not reported by the TV shedule, and of course, not finding the channel that lists the channel schedules. This is another perp arrangement, to disrupt the normal viewing times and seed imposed delays and other related fuckery. And I am getting mind-blanked as to what was on, though no major perp themes that I noticed. Then onto Doc Martin, and above mentioned shit story that was making the village ill, originating in his office no less. There is the ongoing on-off romantic interest with Louisa that he seems to quash with his inappropriate digressions into clinical terms. I won't say anything more about this one, as I think the perp themes, if there are any, are much more nuanced and subtle.
The show, New Tricks is about three retired male policemen who are brought back from retirement to investigate old cold cases. They are administered by younger a blonde woman who seems to be a good sport, but also a taskmaster when needed. Some episodes are cleverly wound up, others are left for an inconclusive ending, begetting a WTF reaction, not uncommon with arranged stunts and supporting gangstalker's and operative's behaviors.. Last night's show was about illicit military research into behavioral modification, and how it went wrong, (drinking alcohol at the pub), with memory loss of the three involved soldiers over a fourth man's murder, the latter being a negro. And if you are a regular reader you will know that this is perp heavy content; not only invoking the Unfavored negro and military personnel, but also the topic of behavior control, illicit nonconsensual human experimentation, medical personnel, memory loss and related cover ups. Last night's New Tricks was full measure for being perp themed IMHO.
Then finally, the CBC Sunday Night news journal, always an easy listen as the stories are interesting and seem even handed in their portrayal. I learned that the Canadian stock market and securities regulators are utter wimps, and had enough information to put Conrad Black and his crew of kleptomanical pals in jail, but passed on it, leaving it to the US SEC to begin legal proceedings. Again, no major perp themes I could pick up, so I reckon just the general ones like financial duress economic difficulties would suffice. Who knows what they arrange, be it the events, reportage, news personnel and story editing. It could be some of each, all the way to all of each, and I am the last to know. Though, I have noticed that whenever I have read much about Conrad Black's travails of the past two years, I frequently get noisestalked, and too, when I read his writing in the newspapers, such as one this past weekend in the Guardian.
It is time to call this one done for the day, and I will add more of today's perp and harassment arrangements into tomorrow's blog posting rather than add on to this one.
Showing posts with label morphover. Show all posts
Showing posts with label morphover. Show all posts
Monday, November 24, 2008
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Plasma Replications and Projections
1400h
A late get-up time, which made for 9.5 hours of sleep, when only 8 are needed, not factoring the frequent naps that go on for one to three hours. No major nightime ructions, save one possible wake up to look at the perp's grainy picture show, where the properties of the ambient light are manipulated to make it appear as if I was looking at a 2400 ASA push processed black and white negative, meaning very "grainy" and no color. Then, after only one to five seconds of observation, I get put to sleep again. No noisestalking in the night that I can recall.
The plasma games are continuous and constant in my vision, and very short flashes occur all the time, usually projecting an object, or the edge of an object in another color (yellow, red, green, grey usually) offset from the object itself. An example is this Windows display where a 1/8" fat right side blue colored vertical line to the right of the vertical scroll line appears after each log on. And for whatever reason, I get controlled to loathe this intrusion and use the mouse to rid myself of it by pulling it rightward to then disappear. It is all part of the imposed routine. And as it gets pulled, a yellow replicate line (in plasma form), offset by an inch or so, "shows up" while the fat blue Windows line is eliminated. This goes on everytime, and is one example of thousands that occur, these subsecond plasma beam flashes. As I have recorded anomalous magnetic field levels in my proximity, >200 Gauss in 2002, it makes perfect sense that these associated plasma events are happening. One controls plasma activity in a densified magnetic field. Ditto for masers which I see plenty of each day.
It was raining for most of the morning, and I can only assume that there were some reasons for this, one that has been mooted was the incidence of platinum on the streets, the very small aggregations from catalytic converters from vehicles. This could be, as I get at least five incidences per week of the street sweeper going by, which lays down a striated track of moistened pavement at the side of the road. I have never seen so much street sweeper activity in all my life, as they are normally used when the street is cleared of parked vehicles. Now, for whatever reason, "anytime" (per perp script) will do. And as I made that scintillating observation, the glass bottle bashing act has started up in the hallway. It never ends, just recycling the same harassment enabling events from location to location.
My perp abbetting mother is making some hints about "job transition" programs being started up, and seemed to have some startling insights into the nature of forestry jobs, the professionals, and the technicians. Not only is she "well informed", she never had this degree of knowledge or interest in my vocational life before, but now she does. There is a significant degree of "hintspeak" as I would call this, where someone drops some keywords, and I am controlled to register this as a hint as to future direction. Of course there are a lot of fake-outs too, so one cannot trust any notions as to future portent.
As an example of "hintspeak", one landlord, after giving me the boot owing to the mind-controlled rage shows, suggested that I find an apartment in a concrete and steel building, and so I did, and it was a 15 month stay. And now, I am back in such a building for reasons that are best known to the perps, but they do like me using the elevator, and the ground to height energy differentials that occur. Hence the profusion of gangstalkers in the elevator, rushing in before I get out, outside of it blocking egress, and the swarms at the doorway before I get inside one. Not my problem, so why am I being harassed over it?
And as I am going to see the First Feral Family later this afternoon, this posting will be relatively short. That is code for the parental quislings/depraved idiots that sold me into this hell at birth, and stood by while the perps arranged everything around me, playing the perfect doormats, never mind the weird familial vibe that started from very early on.
This must be a perp planted idea; Gangstalker of the Week, Stunt of the Week etc.
Gangstalker of the Week: (08-14-2007) the fucker in my Tuesday yoga class who "showed up" two hours later functioning as an ersatz doorman when I returned to this apartment building. And no less, he had a >1/2" beard in the first instance, then was all cleanly shaved for the reprise gangstalking at the front door. And furthermore, he was a copy of my out-of-town brother in height, comportment, and body build, with a strong facial resemblance. Likely a morphover, and a purposeful similarity at that.
Stunt of the Week: this has to be qualified, and not have the shit and toilet games included, no matter if there was a 100% correlation this past week with taking a shit, then a shower to clean up in advance of going out in four successive events. (Since been alleviated on 08-16-2007) thankfully). This could be the four starings in one outing, including above mentioned "doorman" laying it on, while I was staring at him to positively associate him and the yoga class member.
Enough for a posting, and time to blog off.
A late get-up time, which made for 9.5 hours of sleep, when only 8 are needed, not factoring the frequent naps that go on for one to three hours. No major nightime ructions, save one possible wake up to look at the perp's grainy picture show, where the properties of the ambient light are manipulated to make it appear as if I was looking at a 2400 ASA push processed black and white negative, meaning very "grainy" and no color. Then, after only one to five seconds of observation, I get put to sleep again. No noisestalking in the night that I can recall.
The plasma games are continuous and constant in my vision, and very short flashes occur all the time, usually projecting an object, or the edge of an object in another color (yellow, red, green, grey usually) offset from the object itself. An example is this Windows display where a 1/8" fat right side blue colored vertical line to the right of the vertical scroll line appears after each log on. And for whatever reason, I get controlled to loathe this intrusion and use the mouse to rid myself of it by pulling it rightward to then disappear. It is all part of the imposed routine. And as it gets pulled, a yellow replicate line (in plasma form), offset by an inch or so, "shows up" while the fat blue Windows line is eliminated. This goes on everytime, and is one example of thousands that occur, these subsecond plasma beam flashes. As I have recorded anomalous magnetic field levels in my proximity, >200 Gauss in 2002, it makes perfect sense that these associated plasma events are happening. One controls plasma activity in a densified magnetic field. Ditto for masers which I see plenty of each day.
It was raining for most of the morning, and I can only assume that there were some reasons for this, one that has been mooted was the incidence of platinum on the streets, the very small aggregations from catalytic converters from vehicles. This could be, as I get at least five incidences per week of the street sweeper going by, which lays down a striated track of moistened pavement at the side of the road. I have never seen so much street sweeper activity in all my life, as they are normally used when the street is cleared of parked vehicles. Now, for whatever reason, "anytime" (per perp script) will do. And as I made that scintillating observation, the glass bottle bashing act has started up in the hallway. It never ends, just recycling the same harassment enabling events from location to location.
My perp abbetting mother is making some hints about "job transition" programs being started up, and seemed to have some startling insights into the nature of forestry jobs, the professionals, and the technicians. Not only is she "well informed", she never had this degree of knowledge or interest in my vocational life before, but now she does. There is a significant degree of "hintspeak" as I would call this, where someone drops some keywords, and I am controlled to register this as a hint as to future direction. Of course there are a lot of fake-outs too, so one cannot trust any notions as to future portent.
As an example of "hintspeak", one landlord, after giving me the boot owing to the mind-controlled rage shows, suggested that I find an apartment in a concrete and steel building, and so I did, and it was a 15 month stay. And now, I am back in such a building for reasons that are best known to the perps, but they do like me using the elevator, and the ground to height energy differentials that occur. Hence the profusion of gangstalkers in the elevator, rushing in before I get out, outside of it blocking egress, and the swarms at the doorway before I get inside one. Not my problem, so why am I being harassed over it?
And as I am going to see the First Feral Family later this afternoon, this posting will be relatively short. That is code for the parental quislings/depraved idiots that sold me into this hell at birth, and stood by while the perps arranged everything around me, playing the perfect doormats, never mind the weird familial vibe that started from very early on.
This must be a perp planted idea; Gangstalker of the Week, Stunt of the Week etc.
Gangstalker of the Week: (08-14-2007) the fucker in my Tuesday yoga class who "showed up" two hours later functioning as an ersatz doorman when I returned to this apartment building. And no less, he had a >1/2" beard in the first instance, then was all cleanly shaved for the reprise gangstalking at the front door. And furthermore, he was a copy of my out-of-town brother in height, comportment, and body build, with a strong facial resemblance. Likely a morphover, and a purposeful similarity at that.
Stunt of the Week: this has to be qualified, and not have the shit and toilet games included, no matter if there was a 100% correlation this past week with taking a shit, then a shower to clean up in advance of going out in four successive events. (Since been alleviated on 08-16-2007) thankfully). This could be the four starings in one outing, including above mentioned "doorman" laying it on, while I was staring at him to positively associate him and the yoga class member.
Enough for a posting, and time to blog off.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Browser Crash and Phone Call Confluence
1045h
The perps crashed my Firefox browser session, and then blocked the Restore Session dialog box when I got it back up. And at that moment of swearing at the assholes over this intrusion, they scheduled the usual Sunday phone call with my mother over later arrangements for me to get to her place. Then the church bells started up again, another one of those "coincidence" events that has been known to "erupt" on cue, even if not Sunday. More noises joined the fray while composing this litany of annoyances, including the chirping tire noises the perps like to script.
All in a morning's harassment, and it isn't over yet.
One jerkaround of many that set me off earlier was the planted misperception while reading; the mind controlled me read (mispercieved) "hated" for "rated" and when I trapped the error and re-read the line, the noisestalking started up. This life is a constant assault on the senses, down to the smallest of details, and that includes one's vision, as there is nearly always aberrant images formed by the ongoing plasma and maser show, and now, an object can be rendered distorted or anomalous when in fact it isn't, as the perps now can isolate an object in my visual field and misrepresent it, and not anything else. Another long running stunt that is getting greater airtime is adding colored plasma "features" to extant objects in a fleeting manner.
One example of a momentary planted plasmic (visual) aberration this morning was adding a mid-brown streak into my dark brown hair while I was looking in the mirror, though engaged in another activity. And when I looked again (trapping the "error"), this seeming anomalous streak of hair color was gone. And it so happens, it replicated the very modification of one of the regular yoga class member's hair of a week ago. This woman had the same colored brown streak dyed into her jet black hair, as it was clearly not an momentary plasmic aberration. Anyhow, I don't know much about her, but as she attends both yoga and strength training, I see her more often than other "class members", and the prescribed social interaction arrangement she has with me is the all too-typical friendly/unfriendly deal. Another one of those who seem to be highly mercurial for reasons that are not entirely clear except by orchestration. And as with any of the more regular shills/operatives, the game, meaning planted thought pattern, is to figure out if this is someone I know but in morph-over form.
And this has become a big deal for the perps, though they put me through it for whatever reasons that aren't clear to me.Sometimes, I (or the mind-controlled me) will recognize some familiar features of someone I know in a passing ambulatory gangstalker operative. Usually, if "I" make a reasonable deduction, the operative in question will stop, turn their head away, or otherwise engage in a subtle pose to signify my recognazince. And this "recognition" may well be planted too. But in any event, it is clear that this is some kind of ongoing game to elicit some kind of neural energetic response that the perps are looking for. Since they can morph anyone into any form, except perhaps across genders, it is clear to me that I may be looking at someone I know in a different form, or the similarities are planted, and it is an erroneous deduction. Either way, the game carries on, and the reality is that I cannot really be bothered as to who is pretending to be who, or if that is in fact valid. But there is one consistent woman that is utilized, starting with the Ms. C and Ms. L of the story, one black haired and overweight, the latter blonde and underweight, who are likely the same person, just in different guises. And it could well be that she is also utilized in many of the ongoing gangstalking arrangements, either in public or my activity classes. Again, if left to me, it is a "who cares" issue, as I cannot prove anything in this respect.
My two brothers' features are often "telegraphed", given characteristic features that signify it is them, (or likely so) and in a final over-the-top flagrant morphed-over event, the "character" is then retired. (For example, a hair color change for the same gangstalker, grey to brown). And as it "so happens", "I" (as in mind-controlled and constrained me), never bring this topic up with them when I see them next. Or, if allowed, then my questioning skills are comprimised as well as any other analytical capabilities by "failing" to look at them while answering the question. This never happened before, and so the absence of interogation skills is another (new) tip-off that the party in question may well have been that smirking rube on the hiking trail last week.
The former swim club thought-to-be colleagues are another group from which like-featured gangstalkers are morphed from, and if it were left to me, I wouldn't bother with any of this speculative bullshit that I have been burdened with.
1230h
A two hour session of forced awakeness and agitation in flipping my head side to side and repositioning my feet, hands, and legs before being allowed to go to sleep last night. As part of the deal I was treated to street hollaring noise from outside, as well as the special noise stunts from the supposed city traffic.Why the perps started this up on a Saturday night instead of the usual Monday night I don't know, but they do like to change up any regular events should I be allowed to notice a consistent periodicity.
1325h
Another swearing stream over all the incursions imposed over making lunch; non-stop vocalization while the noisescape of continues at greater volume outside. It never ends; the perps biggest play is to piss me of and have me "complain" all the way up to rage-ification.
And in conjunction with the above vocalizations, the underwear hem flipping started up. As I have been constrained in using the black colored acrylic fabric underwear for the past 10 months, the perps now are expanding their experimentation to black cotton underwear. This "new" harassment/experimentation vector is accompanied by these constant games of flipping the hems back and forth, the underwear being under my jeans. As mentioned in past blogs, the assholes have a total obsession over clothing color, mine and everyone proximate to me. And the current bad-girl starlets of celebrity fame who aren't always wearing their underwear in public, just may be unwittingly aiding this current perp obsession over under clothing energetics research from a distance. The world is more connected than we know, and in my case, allowed to know.
1445h
Time to blog off for the day, as the Sunday pickup by my parent's is imminent, and their PC is too hopeless (by design) to continue with blogging from there. And I am almost falling asleep as I write this, but hopefully no more nap attacks like this past week.
The perps crashed my Firefox browser session, and then blocked the Restore Session dialog box when I got it back up. And at that moment of swearing at the assholes over this intrusion, they scheduled the usual Sunday phone call with my mother over later arrangements for me to get to her place. Then the church bells started up again, another one of those "coincidence" events that has been known to "erupt" on cue, even if not Sunday. More noises joined the fray while composing this litany of annoyances, including the chirping tire noises the perps like to script.
All in a morning's harassment, and it isn't over yet.
One jerkaround of many that set me off earlier was the planted misperception while reading; the mind controlled me read (mispercieved) "hated" for "rated" and when I trapped the error and re-read the line, the noisestalking started up. This life is a constant assault on the senses, down to the smallest of details, and that includes one's vision, as there is nearly always aberrant images formed by the ongoing plasma and maser show, and now, an object can be rendered distorted or anomalous when in fact it isn't, as the perps now can isolate an object in my visual field and misrepresent it, and not anything else. Another long running stunt that is getting greater airtime is adding colored plasma "features" to extant objects in a fleeting manner.
One example of a momentary planted plasmic (visual) aberration this morning was adding a mid-brown streak into my dark brown hair while I was looking in the mirror, though engaged in another activity. And when I looked again (trapping the "error"), this seeming anomalous streak of hair color was gone. And it so happens, it replicated the very modification of one of the regular yoga class member's hair of a week ago. This woman had the same colored brown streak dyed into her jet black hair, as it was clearly not an momentary plasmic aberration. Anyhow, I don't know much about her, but as she attends both yoga and strength training, I see her more often than other "class members", and the prescribed social interaction arrangement she has with me is the all too-typical friendly/unfriendly deal. Another one of those who seem to be highly mercurial for reasons that are not entirely clear except by orchestration. And as with any of the more regular shills/operatives, the game, meaning planted thought pattern, is to figure out if this is someone I know but in morph-over form.
And this has become a big deal for the perps, though they put me through it for whatever reasons that aren't clear to me.Sometimes, I (or the mind-controlled me) will recognize some familiar features of someone I know in a passing ambulatory gangstalker operative. Usually, if "I" make a reasonable deduction, the operative in question will stop, turn their head away, or otherwise engage in a subtle pose to signify my recognazince. And this "recognition" may well be planted too. But in any event, it is clear that this is some kind of ongoing game to elicit some kind of neural energetic response that the perps are looking for. Since they can morph anyone into any form, except perhaps across genders, it is clear to me that I may be looking at someone I know in a different form, or the similarities are planted, and it is an erroneous deduction. Either way, the game carries on, and the reality is that I cannot really be bothered as to who is pretending to be who, or if that is in fact valid. But there is one consistent woman that is utilized, starting with the Ms. C and Ms. L of the story, one black haired and overweight, the latter blonde and underweight, who are likely the same person, just in different guises. And it could well be that she is also utilized in many of the ongoing gangstalking arrangements, either in public or my activity classes. Again, if left to me, it is a "who cares" issue, as I cannot prove anything in this respect.
My two brothers' features are often "telegraphed", given characteristic features that signify it is them, (or likely so) and in a final over-the-top flagrant morphed-over event, the "character" is then retired. (For example, a hair color change for the same gangstalker, grey to brown). And as it "so happens", "I" (as in mind-controlled and constrained me), never bring this topic up with them when I see them next. Or, if allowed, then my questioning skills are comprimised as well as any other analytical capabilities by "failing" to look at them while answering the question. This never happened before, and so the absence of interogation skills is another (new) tip-off that the party in question may well have been that smirking rube on the hiking trail last week.
The former swim club thought-to-be colleagues are another group from which like-featured gangstalkers are morphed from, and if it were left to me, I wouldn't bother with any of this speculative bullshit that I have been burdened with.
1230h
A two hour session of forced awakeness and agitation in flipping my head side to side and repositioning my feet, hands, and legs before being allowed to go to sleep last night. As part of the deal I was treated to street hollaring noise from outside, as well as the special noise stunts from the supposed city traffic.Why the perps started this up on a Saturday night instead of the usual Monday night I don't know, but they do like to change up any regular events should I be allowed to notice a consistent periodicity.
1325h
Another swearing stream over all the incursions imposed over making lunch; non-stop vocalization while the noisescape of continues at greater volume outside. It never ends; the perps biggest play is to piss me of and have me "complain" all the way up to rage-ification.
And in conjunction with the above vocalizations, the underwear hem flipping started up. As I have been constrained in using the black colored acrylic fabric underwear for the past 10 months, the perps now are expanding their experimentation to black cotton underwear. This "new" harassment/experimentation vector is accompanied by these constant games of flipping the hems back and forth, the underwear being under my jeans. As mentioned in past blogs, the assholes have a total obsession over clothing color, mine and everyone proximate to me. And the current bad-girl starlets of celebrity fame who aren't always wearing their underwear in public, just may be unwittingly aiding this current perp obsession over under clothing energetics research from a distance. The world is more connected than we know, and in my case, allowed to know.
1445h
Time to blog off for the day, as the Sunday pickup by my parent's is imminent, and their PC is too hopeless (by design) to continue with blogging from there. And I am almost falling asleep as I write this, but hopefully no more nap attacks like this past week.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
A Shut-in Day
1525h
I was given an 10 hour sleep, and was awakened at 1000h after a rare midnight get-to-bed event, so taken was I (in the collective mind-control context), with having sound on my PC again. That is, until it was unilaterally stopped, and "for some reason", I haven't bothered to find out if it is working again. The perps have very strict constraints as to what I am allowed to see and hear, and they also have an unknown agenda and methods to detect exactly what is too much A/V viewing. At any rate, they aren't about to let me watch a feature length movie, and the most A/V viewing I get is on Sunday nights at my parents, four hours of news, 60 Minutes, a mystery and news again. Of course my parents are there doing their coordinated leg crossings, uncrossings in unison, and sticking their feet up to have it as close to the bottom of the TV screen as it appears in my view, without blocking it. Invariably, a brown cushion with projecting tassels has been arranged on the left side of the TV sitting on the adjacent couch, which too, almost encroaches on the screen. And it doesn't matter how many times I have removed this prop, it "resurfaces" the next week in about the same position. More of the games.
And the perps were up to shit games as I came to suddenly discover in the shower; they somehow planted a lump in my ass that "somehow" didn't leave any soiled underwear tracks, and stayed undetected until then with a few other technicalities that defies common sense and conventional physics which I shall refrain from elaborating on. There were at least three "firsts" in the course of this event, not including it being the first time that anything like this has ever happened. And given the number of first-time events that have gone since they have come to plague me over five years ago, it can only be them and their abiding obsession over the color brown, shit and all manner of combinations, not the least of which is their energetics assays, something most of us are unaware of. Anyhow, this depraved fuckover event only serves to substantiate yesterday's observations on a commercial aircraft's sewage backup problems, and the perp's likely hand in that one. If only they stuck to cattle mutilations i.e. anal coring, and probes into abductees.
By any measure, they have fucked me enough, perhaps moreso than any other TI. I can only surmise this, as I am quite sure that they would keep a similarly harassed victim from any contact, and that includes even minimal measures such as email. A recent example is an intended email to "welcome" a new TI which got blocked twice in the past two days, so I can only assume it is the perps up to their games again. Other communications are constrained down to only exchanging comments in blog comments, no actual email even. The perps seem to be building a profile of degrees of communication, from one time events, to sometime events, all the way up to weekly. And as part of this profile, there are varying methods that they have imposed; verbal, email, blog comments, financial transactions only, with snail mail being the only exception. It is also important to the perps as to the gender of the communicatee; male or female, they like to have one of each for these profiles of communication they so assiduously prepare and maintain.
And they are still pressing on with the email drought, not even the spammers are sending me email. And it is most strange that all of them stopped at the same time, or at least to someone who is not targeted for harassment. Coordinating the activities of the supposed friends is nothing new to me; over three years ago, three of my hiking pals all stopped returning calls, and thereby forcing me into solo hiking, which wasn't a big deal.
So far, the collective "I" (me and my brain keepers) haven't had the need to go outside today, and likely this will be a shut-in day, possibly to keep me in a low-key mode while they are at home enjoying their July 04 holiday. And don't forget, commuting is a no-brainer for them, as they can teleport to wherever they want to, and for those who are morphed over, it seems to take a half hour or so unless it is a huge transition, say from slim to overweight, say 100lb or more of weight gain or loss.
And for some reason the perps have me obsessed over as to how long morph-overs (shape shifting) take, reverting from one appearance to another. And, to no surprise, they also like to drop hints, and have the operatives look similar, and even telepathically tell me that, for example, the cab driver of the yellow cab turning the corner into a side street just behind me and crossing my tracks, is the same person as the staff member at this activity center I take Tuesday yoga at. And sure enough, the guy is 15 minutes late in arriving, and plopping down his mat 3' from me. In this case it would of been a hair color change and a facial change, so it was not a technically onerous morph-over IMHO. It was only then one of the cretins in the yoga class "decided" to stand up and gangstalk the pair of us. This was after he was donkeying around with a foam roll that "somehow" escaped his grasp and ended up on me.
And in case you think I am being led down the perp's own trail of feints and jerkarounds as to morph-overs (aka shape shifting), I too have been morphed over in some respects. The asymmetry of my eyes and eyebrows is at least a 1/2" in the vertical, and one eye is now appearing larger than the other. The perps have also undertaking skin fat thinning, and even did this to the palms of my hands yesterday, as I had never seen them to have veins before, and they did. And of course the macro feature on my camera is dysfunctional, not allowing a photograph. Too many coincidences, and all the time.
2210h
I have found a new trove of activity on the web, I am now discovering Youtube, late to the party as usual. The noisestalking has taken advantage of me wearing headphones, and the usual noises are scheduled when I am listening to music, or even between songs. As all my likes and dislikes are of intense interest to the perps, they also noisestalk these moments. A continuous farce, all this activity as I change tasks, now blogging. I have a notion the perps have another year or more of harassment, which is not difficult to discern when they noisestalk my every word I type. And there are plasmic emanations coming off the LCD panel as well, a pseudo stroboscopic effect.
That is all the news and observations for today, but they do like me to re-open files or documents that were thought to be closed, and that is another mystery, as they surely set it up by scripting me to "forget", and then remind me.
I was given an 10 hour sleep, and was awakened at 1000h after a rare midnight get-to-bed event, so taken was I (in the collective mind-control context), with having sound on my PC again. That is, until it was unilaterally stopped, and "for some reason", I haven't bothered to find out if it is working again. The perps have very strict constraints as to what I am allowed to see and hear, and they also have an unknown agenda and methods to detect exactly what is too much A/V viewing. At any rate, they aren't about to let me watch a feature length movie, and the most A/V viewing I get is on Sunday nights at my parents, four hours of news, 60 Minutes, a mystery and news again. Of course my parents are there doing their coordinated leg crossings, uncrossings in unison, and sticking their feet up to have it as close to the bottom of the TV screen as it appears in my view, without blocking it. Invariably, a brown cushion with projecting tassels has been arranged on the left side of the TV sitting on the adjacent couch, which too, almost encroaches on the screen. And it doesn't matter how many times I have removed this prop, it "resurfaces" the next week in about the same position. More of the games.
And the perps were up to shit games as I came to suddenly discover in the shower; they somehow planted a lump in my ass that "somehow" didn't leave any soiled underwear tracks, and stayed undetected until then with a few other technicalities that defies common sense and conventional physics which I shall refrain from elaborating on. There were at least three "firsts" in the course of this event, not including it being the first time that anything like this has ever happened. And given the number of first-time events that have gone since they have come to plague me over five years ago, it can only be them and their abiding obsession over the color brown, shit and all manner of combinations, not the least of which is their energetics assays, something most of us are unaware of. Anyhow, this depraved fuckover event only serves to substantiate yesterday's observations on a commercial aircraft's sewage backup problems, and the perp's likely hand in that one. If only they stuck to cattle mutilations i.e. anal coring, and probes into abductees.
By any measure, they have fucked me enough, perhaps moreso than any other TI. I can only surmise this, as I am quite sure that they would keep a similarly harassed victim from any contact, and that includes even minimal measures such as email. A recent example is an intended email to "welcome" a new TI which got blocked twice in the past two days, so I can only assume it is the perps up to their games again. Other communications are constrained down to only exchanging comments in blog comments, no actual email even. The perps seem to be building a profile of degrees of communication, from one time events, to sometime events, all the way up to weekly. And as part of this profile, there are varying methods that they have imposed; verbal, email, blog comments, financial transactions only, with snail mail being the only exception. It is also important to the perps as to the gender of the communicatee; male or female, they like to have one of each for these profiles of communication they so assiduously prepare and maintain.
And they are still pressing on with the email drought, not even the spammers are sending me email. And it is most strange that all of them stopped at the same time, or at least to someone who is not targeted for harassment. Coordinating the activities of the supposed friends is nothing new to me; over three years ago, three of my hiking pals all stopped returning calls, and thereby forcing me into solo hiking, which wasn't a big deal.
So far, the collective "I" (me and my brain keepers) haven't had the need to go outside today, and likely this will be a shut-in day, possibly to keep me in a low-key mode while they are at home enjoying their July 04 holiday. And don't forget, commuting is a no-brainer for them, as they can teleport to wherever they want to, and for those who are morphed over, it seems to take a half hour or so unless it is a huge transition, say from slim to overweight, say 100lb or more of weight gain or loss.
And for some reason the perps have me obsessed over as to how long morph-overs (shape shifting) take, reverting from one appearance to another. And, to no surprise, they also like to drop hints, and have the operatives look similar, and even telepathically tell me that, for example, the cab driver of the yellow cab turning the corner into a side street just behind me and crossing my tracks, is the same person as the staff member at this activity center I take Tuesday yoga at. And sure enough, the guy is 15 minutes late in arriving, and plopping down his mat 3' from me. In this case it would of been a hair color change and a facial change, so it was not a technically onerous morph-over IMHO. It was only then one of the cretins in the yoga class "decided" to stand up and gangstalk the pair of us. This was after he was donkeying around with a foam roll that "somehow" escaped his grasp and ended up on me.
And in case you think I am being led down the perp's own trail of feints and jerkarounds as to morph-overs (aka shape shifting), I too have been morphed over in some respects. The asymmetry of my eyes and eyebrows is at least a 1/2" in the vertical, and one eye is now appearing larger than the other. The perps have also undertaking skin fat thinning, and even did this to the palms of my hands yesterday, as I had never seen them to have veins before, and they did. And of course the macro feature on my camera is dysfunctional, not allowing a photograph. Too many coincidences, and all the time.
2210h
I have found a new trove of activity on the web, I am now discovering Youtube, late to the party as usual. The noisestalking has taken advantage of me wearing headphones, and the usual noises are scheduled when I am listening to music, or even between songs. As all my likes and dislikes are of intense interest to the perps, they also noisestalk these moments. A continuous farce, all this activity as I change tasks, now blogging. I have a notion the perps have another year or more of harassment, which is not difficult to discern when they noisestalk my every word I type. And there are plasmic emanations coming off the LCD panel as well, a pseudo stroboscopic effect.
That is all the news and observations for today, but they do like me to re-open files or documents that were thought to be closed, and that is another mystery, as they surely set it up by scripting me to "forget", and then remind me.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
A Busy Day for Exercise
1700h
I had my yoga workout, lunch, then a half hour walk to my strength training class for an hour, and then a half hour walk back in the very warm weather. As usual, I had my vehicular gangstalkers all over me in formations and strings of predominantly crimson red, deep metallic red, white, silver grey, black and then a potpourri of dark metallic green, light metallic brown, yellows, blues and whatever else. There were seven deep metallic red vehicles covering all cardinal orientations positioned around me when I exited the recreation center plus a gangstalker wearing crimson red, and crimson red bicycle carrier. Fucking absurd.
I reckon they put the usual 500 to 800 vehicles on me in both directions, plus parked vehicles (not including those at three car dealerships I walked by). I got my near daily (now) redi-mix truck on me, and a few shiny new dumptrucks. The perps even put on one of my favorite sports cars, the Audi TT, in silver grey (a favored color), and it was driven by a blonde woman even. What is not to like in that, albeit fleeting as it drove by, and it was back to the grind of being gangstalked by everyone with their ladder, plastic bags, dog, bald head or other accouterment to the ongoing freakshow in which I play the central character without a script.
I had my usual posse of ambulatory gangstalkers on my ass or around me, probably 50 of them, including the fucking operatives cycling on the sidewalk right beside a bicycle lane on the street. I had at least four motorized wheelchairs in both directions sneaking up on me, then meeting them again at the next traffic control. The perps are using more of these fucking things on me, and nearly all are a deep metallic red color. And there were at least an equal number of these things parked with the putative operator on sentry duty, just sitting there.
I read today that the Decider Man, Pres. GW Bush is saying that the summer is going to be a critical time in Iraq. As past readers might recall, there is a connection between this depraved harassment and war and armed strife that is going on (IMHO). I get noisestalked, phenomenon stalked, and vision impaired anytime I read about war, the current ones, or of the past. Ditto for military stories and law enforcement types. If true, then that means the perps are attempting to take some kind of results from this harassment and apply it to the Iraq War.
Given their travails over colors and how certain ones perturb me if strobocoped at me, I don't think they are going to pull off the transference and application of psi energies in 2007, if this is what it is, from me to those involved in the insurrection. And I am also talking about mind control too, another fuckover scene that I deal with. I sense that the perps are still fucking around with their color games, and it has been over a week since they allowed me to eat vegetables, another problem that they have, in assaying the psi energies of digestion and the food colors. I realize this doesn't all hang together real tightly, but this is what I have come to conclude as part of the objectives of this senseless and thankless life trashing fuckover that the sick and relentless assholes have hung on me. And that doesn't explain the past fuckups and the rest of their past sadistic fuckery, of which I sense they are still attempting to remediate.
I got my swarms of shiftless males in their dumbshit hats that they put on today, in the walk back from after yoga. They had three of their fuckers in blue, and they split apart on the crosswalk for me to walk between them. Another male was strangely walking in the grass boulevard portion, ignoring the extra wide sidewalk, one side being asphalt, the other concrete, note. (Regular readers will know that these road surface substances are of intense interest to the perps, and that includes the age of the surface too.)
And more unabashed sentry duty at the recreation center while doing my strength training; a woman who I hadn't seen before, though similar in build and in her face to the swim club coach we had for six years, hung around like a bad smell while I did my first machine workout, after doing a treadmill run for 13 minutes before that. There were plenty of other machines to use, and there are varied options for the workout, and yet she started on sentry duty just after I got onto the machine, and I was obligated to record my treadmill statistics before I started on the machine workout.
And as part of this, the perps have played her in my mind in recent days, though I have no reason to think about her as she now lives in Alberta and is at least 20 years younger than me, and way too whipsmart to be interested in me and my travelling freakshow. As I wrote the above paragraph, I got some huge noisestalking going, so my supposition, or the planting of the notion by mind-fuckery, about the swim club coach just might be correct.
And the perps confirmed that the out-of-town brother like gangstalker that was constantly on my ass at the last residence location, the putative rooming house, is in fact who I think it is. This fucker has also been gangstalking me around my new place, and that confers that this must be an important and known person (when not morphed over). He never appeared to have a room in the putative rooming house, as he came from a different direction each time.
The way it unfolded today was that this same looking and build gangstalker was on my route when heading out to Strength Training. Except this time he had grey hair, instead of his shoulder length brown hair. As before, he had a ball cap on and was dressed in the lightest tan (brown) color possible. So if this fucker gets his hair color and length changed in a week, and "shows up" again, he must be someone I know well. As his height, build and facial structure is nearly identical to my out-of-town brother, it must be him, the fucking asshole.
As I have intimated before, the coincidence of strength training on the same days of yoga is not a fluke, and the perps like me to work out at both in one day, and reserve the four day interval between Thursday and the following Tuesday as their valued "shut-in" time. This way, they can keep me in the apartment for a few days at a time, and this has been one of their standard practices for over two years now, and is more doable now that I don't have a vehicle.
A few bizzare-isms in the freakshow today; someone with a expensive video camera and tripod was acting as if they were going to film this man dressed in a blue and white ice hockey sweater and full gear, including skates that were unguarded! Yessir, they were walking side by side down the street, one of them dressed in full hockey gear, with helmet, stick, pads and gloves and was trashing the bejesus out of his skates by walking on the blades on a concrete sidewalk. I have no idea what this was meant to accomplish, and cannot recall any deep past adverse reactions to real life hockey players. Plain fucking bizarre.
Another lesser bizzare-ism was a troubador dude in a red shirt with his guitar in hand, walking down the street, and yes, we crossed paths at a constriction in the sidewalk, such that I had to wait for him. There has been an inordinant number of dudes packing guitars in my proximity in the past five years, but in all cases they have been in a case or padded carry bag. My only call on this is that these instruments vibrate, and that is a very desireable outcome to further the perp's energetic activities from their remote hideout. Though for the most part, I have never heard one being played (audible vibration) in all the gangstalking arrangements.
While at the strength training there were two participants, one the instructor, the other a supposed class member (both women), and they were dressed identically; black tights to the mid calf area, and the same colored red shirt. I suppose this could happen, but as I take the view that there are no coincidences in my life, it had its reasons. One was for the instructor to lead the class in the center of the floor exercise room, and her doppelganger was beside me at the perimeter of the room, with two other lugs (male operatives), one in a brown shirt and the other in all navy blue ( a safe color for perp fuckery). I reckon this may have offered color continuity from the instructor and to the woman beside me in the same outfit.
And another combination play of these two women in identical clothing was when they were proximate to me, but with a narrow space between them where I could see outside through the glass. And as it so "happened", a bright reflectance was emanating from a parked vehicle outside, and beaming through this space and onto the left side of my face. I simply moved my position and turned away from this annoying set up, and instead, I was treated to countless red plasma beams coming off the wall, and even some that appeared like retina burns, being very persistant.
Also in the classroom, there are windows at the top, and LCD monitors of the equipment workout area are visible through this glass. At some point the fuckers put on some red flashing on the LCD monitor which I saw through the glass on the mirror in front, and it started to freak me out, so I looked at the floor instead and was immediately calmed.
And the perps pulled a toilet blocking stunt, this time the attributable "cause" was a piece of toilet paper, believe or not. After having no plunger for three weeks and the toilet working fine, the day I get the plunger from storage, the perps pull a toilet blocking over one small piece of toilet paper. It is clear that they have decomposed all the elements of taking a shit and in using a plunger to unblock their doings, and that is is a warmup event for their next stunt, where they will block for real. If it can be predicted, it is not of clinical origin. I am being fucked over in almost every aspect of surviving.
1855h
This is the post dinner time, that witching hour of dusk and food digestion, both of intense interest to the perps. And to honor themselves, they have brought on the intense noise of a Harley Davidson type motorcyle, modified in some way for maximum noise. As before, the perps crank this noise up from their projected noise machine, as there are no biker bars or like collections of that crowd within ten miles of here. Odd how they all have this modified bike noise, and that this is the only motorcycle that seems to be in this neighborhood. This all started before dinner, and I assume there are some neural energetics tracking imperatives the perps are working on in realtime. Not my problem, so why am I being fucked over for it?
2210h
An evening of web troving, and thankfully off the topic of harassment and all the rest of the goings on. I was going through the best CD's of 2006, and I like Slipcue's taste a whole bunch. But of course it was for a reason related to the perp's imperatives, and I was constantly reminded by way of near continuous vision impairment fuckery, and in concert, the noise of motorcycles, buses and the odd siren cascade. Nothing new in all that; it is the cummulative aggregation, and it wasn't too bad for a change.
No substantive emails still; even those I supply requested information to just go south and send me some unrelated links. I am not allowed a dialog with anyone via email of late. It is all part of the ever increasing constraints, and it is on all fronts, even as to how I bend down, something that seriously rankles me, especially when the fuckers blocked me even knowing that, and had fucked me into the scripted "habits" they had imposed
Time for a blog off, and hope that the harassment isn't too substantive.
I had my yoga workout, lunch, then a half hour walk to my strength training class for an hour, and then a half hour walk back in the very warm weather. As usual, I had my vehicular gangstalkers all over me in formations and strings of predominantly crimson red, deep metallic red, white, silver grey, black and then a potpourri of dark metallic green, light metallic brown, yellows, blues and whatever else. There were seven deep metallic red vehicles covering all cardinal orientations positioned around me when I exited the recreation center plus a gangstalker wearing crimson red, and crimson red bicycle carrier. Fucking absurd.
I reckon they put the usual 500 to 800 vehicles on me in both directions, plus parked vehicles (not including those at three car dealerships I walked by). I got my near daily (now) redi-mix truck on me, and a few shiny new dumptrucks. The perps even put on one of my favorite sports cars, the Audi TT, in silver grey (a favored color), and it was driven by a blonde woman even. What is not to like in that, albeit fleeting as it drove by, and it was back to the grind of being gangstalked by everyone with their ladder, plastic bags, dog, bald head or other accouterment to the ongoing freakshow in which I play the central character without a script.
I had my usual posse of ambulatory gangstalkers on my ass or around me, probably 50 of them, including the fucking operatives cycling on the sidewalk right beside a bicycle lane on the street. I had at least four motorized wheelchairs in both directions sneaking up on me, then meeting them again at the next traffic control. The perps are using more of these fucking things on me, and nearly all are a deep metallic red color. And there were at least an equal number of these things parked with the putative operator on sentry duty, just sitting there.
I read today that the Decider Man, Pres. GW Bush is saying that the summer is going to be a critical time in Iraq. As past readers might recall, there is a connection between this depraved harassment and war and armed strife that is going on (IMHO). I get noisestalked, phenomenon stalked, and vision impaired anytime I read about war, the current ones, or of the past. Ditto for military stories and law enforcement types. If true, then that means the perps are attempting to take some kind of results from this harassment and apply it to the Iraq War.
Given their travails over colors and how certain ones perturb me if strobocoped at me, I don't think they are going to pull off the transference and application of psi energies in 2007, if this is what it is, from me to those involved in the insurrection. And I am also talking about mind control too, another fuckover scene that I deal with. I sense that the perps are still fucking around with their color games, and it has been over a week since they allowed me to eat vegetables, another problem that they have, in assaying the psi energies of digestion and the food colors. I realize this doesn't all hang together real tightly, but this is what I have come to conclude as part of the objectives of this senseless and thankless life trashing fuckover that the sick and relentless assholes have hung on me. And that doesn't explain the past fuckups and the rest of their past sadistic fuckery, of which I sense they are still attempting to remediate.
I got my swarms of shiftless males in their dumbshit hats that they put on today, in the walk back from after yoga. They had three of their fuckers in blue, and they split apart on the crosswalk for me to walk between them. Another male was strangely walking in the grass boulevard portion, ignoring the extra wide sidewalk, one side being asphalt, the other concrete, note. (Regular readers will know that these road surface substances are of intense interest to the perps, and that includes the age of the surface too.)
And more unabashed sentry duty at the recreation center while doing my strength training; a woman who I hadn't seen before, though similar in build and in her face to the swim club coach we had for six years, hung around like a bad smell while I did my first machine workout, after doing a treadmill run for 13 minutes before that. There were plenty of other machines to use, and there are varied options for the workout, and yet she started on sentry duty just after I got onto the machine, and I was obligated to record my treadmill statistics before I started on the machine workout.
And as part of this, the perps have played her in my mind in recent days, though I have no reason to think about her as she now lives in Alberta and is at least 20 years younger than me, and way too whipsmart to be interested in me and my travelling freakshow. As I wrote the above paragraph, I got some huge noisestalking going, so my supposition, or the planting of the notion by mind-fuckery, about the swim club coach just might be correct.
And the perps confirmed that the out-of-town brother like gangstalker that was constantly on my ass at the last residence location, the putative rooming house, is in fact who I think it is. This fucker has also been gangstalking me around my new place, and that confers that this must be an important and known person (when not morphed over). He never appeared to have a room in the putative rooming house, as he came from a different direction each time.
The way it unfolded today was that this same looking and build gangstalker was on my route when heading out to Strength Training. Except this time he had grey hair, instead of his shoulder length brown hair. As before, he had a ball cap on and was dressed in the lightest tan (brown) color possible. So if this fucker gets his hair color and length changed in a week, and "shows up" again, he must be someone I know well. As his height, build and facial structure is nearly identical to my out-of-town brother, it must be him, the fucking asshole.
As I have intimated before, the coincidence of strength training on the same days of yoga is not a fluke, and the perps like me to work out at both in one day, and reserve the four day interval between Thursday and the following Tuesday as their valued "shut-in" time. This way, they can keep me in the apartment for a few days at a time, and this has been one of their standard practices for over two years now, and is more doable now that I don't have a vehicle.
A few bizzare-isms in the freakshow today; someone with a expensive video camera and tripod was acting as if they were going to film this man dressed in a blue and white ice hockey sweater and full gear, including skates that were unguarded! Yessir, they were walking side by side down the street, one of them dressed in full hockey gear, with helmet, stick, pads and gloves and was trashing the bejesus out of his skates by walking on the blades on a concrete sidewalk. I have no idea what this was meant to accomplish, and cannot recall any deep past adverse reactions to real life hockey players. Plain fucking bizarre.
Another lesser bizzare-ism was a troubador dude in a red shirt with his guitar in hand, walking down the street, and yes, we crossed paths at a constriction in the sidewalk, such that I had to wait for him. There has been an inordinant number of dudes packing guitars in my proximity in the past five years, but in all cases they have been in a case or padded carry bag. My only call on this is that these instruments vibrate, and that is a very desireable outcome to further the perp's energetic activities from their remote hideout. Though for the most part, I have never heard one being played (audible vibration) in all the gangstalking arrangements.
While at the strength training there were two participants, one the instructor, the other a supposed class member (both women), and they were dressed identically; black tights to the mid calf area, and the same colored red shirt. I suppose this could happen, but as I take the view that there are no coincidences in my life, it had its reasons. One was for the instructor to lead the class in the center of the floor exercise room, and her doppelganger was beside me at the perimeter of the room, with two other lugs (male operatives), one in a brown shirt and the other in all navy blue ( a safe color for perp fuckery). I reckon this may have offered color continuity from the instructor and to the woman beside me in the same outfit.
And another combination play of these two women in identical clothing was when they were proximate to me, but with a narrow space between them where I could see outside through the glass. And as it so "happened", a bright reflectance was emanating from a parked vehicle outside, and beaming through this space and onto the left side of my face. I simply moved my position and turned away from this annoying set up, and instead, I was treated to countless red plasma beams coming off the wall, and even some that appeared like retina burns, being very persistant.
Also in the classroom, there are windows at the top, and LCD monitors of the equipment workout area are visible through this glass. At some point the fuckers put on some red flashing on the LCD monitor which I saw through the glass on the mirror in front, and it started to freak me out, so I looked at the floor instead and was immediately calmed.
And the perps pulled a toilet blocking stunt, this time the attributable "cause" was a piece of toilet paper, believe or not. After having no plunger for three weeks and the toilet working fine, the day I get the plunger from storage, the perps pull a toilet blocking over one small piece of toilet paper. It is clear that they have decomposed all the elements of taking a shit and in using a plunger to unblock their doings, and that is is a warmup event for their next stunt, where they will block for real. If it can be predicted, it is not of clinical origin. I am being fucked over in almost every aspect of surviving.
1855h
This is the post dinner time, that witching hour of dusk and food digestion, both of intense interest to the perps. And to honor themselves, they have brought on the intense noise of a Harley Davidson type motorcyle, modified in some way for maximum noise. As before, the perps crank this noise up from their projected noise machine, as there are no biker bars or like collections of that crowd within ten miles of here. Odd how they all have this modified bike noise, and that this is the only motorcycle that seems to be in this neighborhood. This all started before dinner, and I assume there are some neural energetics tracking imperatives the perps are working on in realtime. Not my problem, so why am I being fucked over for it?
2210h
An evening of web troving, and thankfully off the topic of harassment and all the rest of the goings on. I was going through the best CD's of 2006, and I like Slipcue's taste a whole bunch. But of course it was for a reason related to the perp's imperatives, and I was constantly reminded by way of near continuous vision impairment fuckery, and in concert, the noise of motorcycles, buses and the odd siren cascade. Nothing new in all that; it is the cummulative aggregation, and it wasn't too bad for a change.
No substantive emails still; even those I supply requested information to just go south and send me some unrelated links. I am not allowed a dialog with anyone via email of late. It is all part of the ever increasing constraints, and it is on all fronts, even as to how I bend down, something that seriously rankles me, especially when the fuckers blocked me even knowing that, and had fucked me into the scripted "habits" they had imposed
Time for a blog off, and hope that the harassment isn't too substantive.
Monday, March 26, 2007
House Whacking in the Night
1235h
I stayed at my parent's place last night and watch the usual two programs with lots of British accents, a planted theme of the perps. Nothing grating at least.
I was allowed to get to sleep in short order, but was awakened in the night to hear something whacking the house in rythmic fashion. Later I was awakened again to hear my parents talking and for thoughstalking reasons. That is, while thinking about something, one of them would cough or say something, whichever was appropriate at the moment.
1545h
My afternoon tea and chocolate has been cancelled; that is, I have no interest in having the tea even if no chocolate is on hand. The latter is a highly managed food item, and is integral to the perp's brown color problem they inflict on me, and both my usual sources were "out of stock" last week. That includes straight milk chocolate and the variety with added hazelnuts, the permitted alternative. And since I have gone through spells of not even liking the smell of chocolate, I can be sure that the assholes are governing this trait as it fits in with their color planting plans.
And on that note, the usual Monday morning light gold-brown metallic colored sedan that arrives on Mondays was duly parked under my window, per usual. It must be at leas six Mondays in succession, with perhaps one other non-Monday visitation. I even was allowed to convey to the doctor last week about the scheduled Monday-only getting to sleep problems, and he asked why I thought it was happening. I gave him my best answer that Mondays are the day following a stay at my parents' place and that whatever benefits accrue from being harassed and surveilled there are likely being attempted here on the following day, right to the end of it by protraction of my awake time. Anyhow, it was interesting that the perps allowed this nonclinical gem to be supplied to the doctor as usually they have me "forget" anything of this nature in a clinical environment. That is, they don't (usually) want to hear about it, and therefore dither my situational capability in recalling unwanted information.
I read an interesting article in Nexus about transplant patients undergoing personality changes akin to that of the donor. This isn't anything too new as transplants have been going on for over 30 years (heart, lungs, kidneys etc.), except the author makes a statistical inference is that it is not a coincidence. Which is interesting, as somehow the perps might be reading these energies off of organs as well as my brain. That they put at least eight deep burgundy colored vehicles around me in one block of a two lane residental artery suggests that perhaps my heart is their current quest as it is the same color. Then another four of them clustered around me outside this place when I pulled in with my mother's Ford Escape. Then the brother comportment-like gangstalker/"resident" "happened" to walk in front of the vehicle while she was spinning a story about a possible outing next week, before I got out.
It was interesting earlier that my mother was talking about kidneys this morning, as a news story had launched this conversational item. Not that I am any expert, but it did cause me to wonder what the need was.
And it was also interesting that the perps hammered me with vision impairments when I first sat down at the table, whenever I looked across the table at no particular feature. And lo, if my mother didn't sit there, in the center of the location for which I earlier recieved vision impairments. It was the particular view that was impaired, as they backed off if I looked somewhere else.
And it seems that there is a magical scourge that is attacking toilet plungers in my proximity; over the past month the one here, and the one at my parent's place, have taken on a list, and the handles can no longer be kept vertical. Even inanimate objects are taking on a generalized "behavior" in my proximity. No doubt mine will have taken this on when I am allowed to spring it out of storage next month as part of the upcoming move. I am to give my notice this week, and take the plunge that desirable place will come up for rent in the next week. Nothing in the newspaper this past weekend.
And the housing coordinator phoned and asked about my house looking, and I told her nothing yet, and then she goes into raptures about how this was the best time to look as the student's are vacating apartments at term end. Well it so "happened" that is what I told her two weeks ago, when she suggested an April 15 end of tenancy which I was not too keen about. I then proposed the April 30 date, citing the aforementioned student turnover, and I asked for her validation, and she said she didn't know. Now she is singing the praises of an upcoming bountiful choice of availible apartments next weekend, the month-end, owing to the timing of student turnover. It is simply amazing how "my idea" (likely a planted thought) gets replayed back to me in glowing terms from someone who couldn't, or more likely wouldn't, validate it in the first place.
Regular readers will know that there is a component of this harassment called "generated coincidences", aka scenario or dialog setups. That is, a theme will come to mind, and often the words to use, in anticipation of an upcoming event. And when the event arrives, I typically find myself in a conversation where the (planted) thoughts and words are supplied as "my" contribution to the converstation. And other times, the theme is ignored entirely.
An example is the doctor's appointment past week which turned out to be relatively benign and no insulting games and other ruses to get me riled up. But, the week before that, they had me "discover" that the diagnosis of delusions requires some work on the doctor's behalf to ensure these events are not occuring. Well of course no doctor has done any spade work, even if I tell them there are books on gangstalking, and 18k Google hits on the topic, never mind the many web sites. So, the notion was that I would come out swinging in metaphoric terms in the doctor's appointment was planted; I would put the shoe on the other foot, and ask him for his research efforts as to what he had done to be sure that these events were not happening. As it so "happened", the doctor's visit was totally nonconfrontational, and was a cakewalk in that he ducked the issue of provability in advance by saying that he was prescribing medications that help me deal with the experiences I describe. Anyway, life is a constant mind game, some notions are planted to be disregarded, and some are planted to be discussed at length.
And sometimes this presaging of verbal content is managed to the very word, where I use a more obscure word which gets "jumped on" by the designated party, and I have no idea as to why they didn't understand its usage. I explain it, or define the word, and then they are OK with it. As the mind control extends to my vocabulary as of sometime in 2006, I don't worry about it now as it is all programmed exactly to what the script is.
1910h
I just finished commenting to another TI and that started the herd of operatives moving in the adjacent hallway, next door bathroom, loud muffered vehicles outside, the daily fan belt squeaking, again from outside, and the rest of the noisescape. And too, the select, cut and paste actions in Windows makes for a noise flurry as well.
And I read that Anna Nicole Smith died of an accidental overdose of a prescribed substance that conflicted with other medications. I haven't done the homework to know what all of the medications are, but I surely there must of been a contraindication warning from her doctor. And, no less, she travelled with a nurse, and in addition, still somehow ended up with an infection from the hypodermic jab. As always, I am suspicious of all premature celebrity deaths, but as I am not there, I cannot make a call as to what exactly went on. She was an iconic blonde, if over the top, but she had a certain appeal in that she made her own success, even if brazen at times. But I do wonder, is there a certain attrition rate for iconic blonde women? Princess Diana in 1996, Marilyn Munroe in 1962, and none come to mind for the 1970's and 1980's. As I said before, if I were Paris Hilton, I would start to lie low and stay out of the limelight.
2100h
I got up for a drink of water from the gallon jug, which is located near the window. True to form, meaning 95% of the time when at the counter, there was a vehicle slowly cruising by outside, red and white lights glowing, and then it reversed as they often do. Once I got back to my chair, the assholes jabbed me with some kind of internal pain, large intestine area. I assume it all relates to their ass-jabbing activities, and the sensation of shitting undigested straw whenever I get to take a crap. They have no end of interest in all matters related to shit, and have gone to great lengths to make taking a crap an abhorent experience.
2145h
More motorcycle noise from outside; the perps like that long trail-off of sound (or decay) and use both the loud throbbing two cycle motorbikes (Harley Davidsons usually) and the higher revving four stroke typical Japanese motorcycle noise.
I am doing some reading on Alien Jigsaw by Kathrina Wilson which has some articles on mind control as well, and it seems the central question is one of nonconsensual experimentation; by aliens, or by ones own species. In each case, it is a life under duress as the author points out, though she didn't imagine the nature of been totally controlled with the entire city taking part in an ongoing charade, with the central character being kept in the dark as to what is going on, and all support being pulled, or else highly compromised.
Then to top it off, the perps launch into vision impairment activity, designed to stop me reading. But at the same time, they want me online and to flick through web pages for noisestalking coordination and whatever else they do.
For a Monday, this has been a fairly calm evening; I am getting plenty of furnace oil smell jammed up my nose, but not the usual 3 per 5 minutes of room shaking and the hallway jocularity or cell phone activity.
In the ongoing vehicular gangstalking that went on this morning when I drove my mother's Ford Escape to my place, there were the burgundy red vehicles I mentioned, and later in the journey they added a burgundy and sliver-grey combination Smart Car which are all the rage here. It seems that the perps were building a scale of small (Smart Car) to large (vans) of the burgundy color. I have never seen them do this in one journey so obviously, but it goes without saying almost, that I have also been "shown" plenty of motorcycles, sports cars, sedans, dump trucks and others in the range of scale they seem to be attempting for each color of interest.
And in the stupid driving realm, another first today; someone stopped in mid-street, oncoming with the passenger door open, just sitting there and not attempting to pull over to the curb where there was plenty of room. This was facing my parents' place 300m away, and if any traffic had turned from the nearby thoroughfare, they would of slammed into this absurdity. So it seems, that this stunt, looking like bozos gone wild, was carefully arranged for the idiots to pretend to be putzing in mid-road for the few minutes or so that they were in view. It did not surprise me that the vehicle was silver-grey, the most often used reference color, and that of my former Volvo, now driven by my sixteen y.o. daughter who can afford it. How's that for penury?
Time to call this one a wrap, and take on the consideration of tomorrow's events; it is an "outing day", Tuesdays as I go to the so-called "drop-in" center, which for all purposes is a gangstalk center. Last week, morph-overs of my father and brother were the first two fuckers to "greet me", even before I got into the house to sign in. Both these assholes had the same comportment as the respective individuals, hence my interpretation as being morphed-over family members. That they were there first, and before I got in the house suggests that these were the most important gangstalkers of the lot. In my view, both are fucking sick to be taking part in this protracted and vile depravity. I just hope I don't see them in any like form tommorow.
I stayed at my parent's place last night and watch the usual two programs with lots of British accents, a planted theme of the perps. Nothing grating at least.
I was allowed to get to sleep in short order, but was awakened in the night to hear something whacking the house in rythmic fashion. Later I was awakened again to hear my parents talking and for thoughstalking reasons. That is, while thinking about something, one of them would cough or say something, whichever was appropriate at the moment.
1545h
My afternoon tea and chocolate has been cancelled; that is, I have no interest in having the tea even if no chocolate is on hand. The latter is a highly managed food item, and is integral to the perp's brown color problem they inflict on me, and both my usual sources were "out of stock" last week. That includes straight milk chocolate and the variety with added hazelnuts, the permitted alternative. And since I have gone through spells of not even liking the smell of chocolate, I can be sure that the assholes are governing this trait as it fits in with their color planting plans.
And on that note, the usual Monday morning light gold-brown metallic colored sedan that arrives on Mondays was duly parked under my window, per usual. It must be at leas six Mondays in succession, with perhaps one other non-Monday visitation. I even was allowed to convey to the doctor last week about the scheduled Monday-only getting to sleep problems, and he asked why I thought it was happening. I gave him my best answer that Mondays are the day following a stay at my parents' place and that whatever benefits accrue from being harassed and surveilled there are likely being attempted here on the following day, right to the end of it by protraction of my awake time. Anyhow, it was interesting that the perps allowed this nonclinical gem to be supplied to the doctor as usually they have me "forget" anything of this nature in a clinical environment. That is, they don't (usually) want to hear about it, and therefore dither my situational capability in recalling unwanted information.
I read an interesting article in Nexus about transplant patients undergoing personality changes akin to that of the donor. This isn't anything too new as transplants have been going on for over 30 years (heart, lungs, kidneys etc.), except the author makes a statistical inference is that it is not a coincidence. Which is interesting, as somehow the perps might be reading these energies off of organs as well as my brain. That they put at least eight deep burgundy colored vehicles around me in one block of a two lane residental artery suggests that perhaps my heart is their current quest as it is the same color. Then another four of them clustered around me outside this place when I pulled in with my mother's Ford Escape. Then the brother comportment-like gangstalker/"resident" "happened" to walk in front of the vehicle while she was spinning a story about a possible outing next week, before I got out.
It was interesting earlier that my mother was talking about kidneys this morning, as a news story had launched this conversational item. Not that I am any expert, but it did cause me to wonder what the need was.
And it was also interesting that the perps hammered me with vision impairments when I first sat down at the table, whenever I looked across the table at no particular feature. And lo, if my mother didn't sit there, in the center of the location for which I earlier recieved vision impairments. It was the particular view that was impaired, as they backed off if I looked somewhere else.
And it seems that there is a magical scourge that is attacking toilet plungers in my proximity; over the past month the one here, and the one at my parent's place, have taken on a list, and the handles can no longer be kept vertical. Even inanimate objects are taking on a generalized "behavior" in my proximity. No doubt mine will have taken this on when I am allowed to spring it out of storage next month as part of the upcoming move. I am to give my notice this week, and take the plunge that desirable place will come up for rent in the next week. Nothing in the newspaper this past weekend.
And the housing coordinator phoned and asked about my house looking, and I told her nothing yet, and then she goes into raptures about how this was the best time to look as the student's are vacating apartments at term end. Well it so "happened" that is what I told her two weeks ago, when she suggested an April 15 end of tenancy which I was not too keen about. I then proposed the April 30 date, citing the aforementioned student turnover, and I asked for her validation, and she said she didn't know. Now she is singing the praises of an upcoming bountiful choice of availible apartments next weekend, the month-end, owing to the timing of student turnover. It is simply amazing how "my idea" (likely a planted thought) gets replayed back to me in glowing terms from someone who couldn't, or more likely wouldn't, validate it in the first place.
Regular readers will know that there is a component of this harassment called "generated coincidences", aka scenario or dialog setups. That is, a theme will come to mind, and often the words to use, in anticipation of an upcoming event. And when the event arrives, I typically find myself in a conversation where the (planted) thoughts and words are supplied as "my" contribution to the converstation. And other times, the theme is ignored entirely.
An example is the doctor's appointment past week which turned out to be relatively benign and no insulting games and other ruses to get me riled up. But, the week before that, they had me "discover" that the diagnosis of delusions requires some work on the doctor's behalf to ensure these events are not occuring. Well of course no doctor has done any spade work, even if I tell them there are books on gangstalking, and 18k Google hits on the topic, never mind the many web sites. So, the notion was that I would come out swinging in metaphoric terms in the doctor's appointment was planted; I would put the shoe on the other foot, and ask him for his research efforts as to what he had done to be sure that these events were not happening. As it so "happened", the doctor's visit was totally nonconfrontational, and was a cakewalk in that he ducked the issue of provability in advance by saying that he was prescribing medications that help me deal with the experiences I describe. Anyway, life is a constant mind game, some notions are planted to be disregarded, and some are planted to be discussed at length.
And sometimes this presaging of verbal content is managed to the very word, where I use a more obscure word which gets "jumped on" by the designated party, and I have no idea as to why they didn't understand its usage. I explain it, or define the word, and then they are OK with it. As the mind control extends to my vocabulary as of sometime in 2006, I don't worry about it now as it is all programmed exactly to what the script is.
1910h
I just finished commenting to another TI and that started the herd of operatives moving in the adjacent hallway, next door bathroom, loud muffered vehicles outside, the daily fan belt squeaking, again from outside, and the rest of the noisescape. And too, the select, cut and paste actions in Windows makes for a noise flurry as well.
And I read that Anna Nicole Smith died of an accidental overdose of a prescribed substance that conflicted with other medications. I haven't done the homework to know what all of the medications are, but I surely there must of been a contraindication warning from her doctor. And, no less, she travelled with a nurse, and in addition, still somehow ended up with an infection from the hypodermic jab. As always, I am suspicious of all premature celebrity deaths, but as I am not there, I cannot make a call as to what exactly went on. She was an iconic blonde, if over the top, but she had a certain appeal in that she made her own success, even if brazen at times. But I do wonder, is there a certain attrition rate for iconic blonde women? Princess Diana in 1996, Marilyn Munroe in 1962, and none come to mind for the 1970's and 1980's. As I said before, if I were Paris Hilton, I would start to lie low and stay out of the limelight.
2100h
I got up for a drink of water from the gallon jug, which is located near the window. True to form, meaning 95% of the time when at the counter, there was a vehicle slowly cruising by outside, red and white lights glowing, and then it reversed as they often do. Once I got back to my chair, the assholes jabbed me with some kind of internal pain, large intestine area. I assume it all relates to their ass-jabbing activities, and the sensation of shitting undigested straw whenever I get to take a crap. They have no end of interest in all matters related to shit, and have gone to great lengths to make taking a crap an abhorent experience.
2145h
More motorcycle noise from outside; the perps like that long trail-off of sound (or decay) and use both the loud throbbing two cycle motorbikes (Harley Davidsons usually) and the higher revving four stroke typical Japanese motorcycle noise.
I am doing some reading on Alien Jigsaw by Kathrina Wilson which has some articles on mind control as well, and it seems the central question is one of nonconsensual experimentation; by aliens, or by ones own species. In each case, it is a life under duress as the author points out, though she didn't imagine the nature of been totally controlled with the entire city taking part in an ongoing charade, with the central character being kept in the dark as to what is going on, and all support being pulled, or else highly compromised.
Then to top it off, the perps launch into vision impairment activity, designed to stop me reading. But at the same time, they want me online and to flick through web pages for noisestalking coordination and whatever else they do.
For a Monday, this has been a fairly calm evening; I am getting plenty of furnace oil smell jammed up my nose, but not the usual 3 per 5 minutes of room shaking and the hallway jocularity or cell phone activity.
In the ongoing vehicular gangstalking that went on this morning when I drove my mother's Ford Escape to my place, there were the burgundy red vehicles I mentioned, and later in the journey they added a burgundy and sliver-grey combination Smart Car which are all the rage here. It seems that the perps were building a scale of small (Smart Car) to large (vans) of the burgundy color. I have never seen them do this in one journey so obviously, but it goes without saying almost, that I have also been "shown" plenty of motorcycles, sports cars, sedans, dump trucks and others in the range of scale they seem to be attempting for each color of interest.
And in the stupid driving realm, another first today; someone stopped in mid-street, oncoming with the passenger door open, just sitting there and not attempting to pull over to the curb where there was plenty of room. This was facing my parents' place 300m away, and if any traffic had turned from the nearby thoroughfare, they would of slammed into this absurdity. So it seems, that this stunt, looking like bozos gone wild, was carefully arranged for the idiots to pretend to be putzing in mid-road for the few minutes or so that they were in view. It did not surprise me that the vehicle was silver-grey, the most often used reference color, and that of my former Volvo, now driven by my sixteen y.o. daughter who can afford it. How's that for penury?
Time to call this one a wrap, and take on the consideration of tomorrow's events; it is an "outing day", Tuesdays as I go to the so-called "drop-in" center, which for all purposes is a gangstalk center. Last week, morph-overs of my father and brother were the first two fuckers to "greet me", even before I got into the house to sign in. Both these assholes had the same comportment as the respective individuals, hence my interpretation as being morphed-over family members. That they were there first, and before I got in the house suggests that these were the most important gangstalkers of the lot. In my view, both are fucking sick to be taking part in this protracted and vile depravity. I just hope I don't see them in any like form tommorow.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
A Cough-a-Thon
1105h
A coughing and hacking contest is erupting; four of them alternating, one moving in close to the next door bathroom, putting on their never-get-better show, and continue to cough in sequence and synchrony. Unbelievable, and it erupted just after my mother's phone call, which was likely timed to the second. It is my theory that sensors of every kind; microphones, voice pickups, CCD's in digital cameras, film cameras and any other device for measurement can be co-opted by the perps for their own purposes of measuring energies us mortals are not allowed to know about in any formal established physics curiculum. I have had television cameras used as the gangstalking "assistance" device. This was at a two bit jeweller where the camera man went in ahead of me; more absurdity.
Now two hallway sprayings of "air freshener" so far today, the first was when I was shaving at about 0930h.
A major overhead ceiling pounding came like a bolt from the blue as I was reading the word "bananas"; this is just unbelivable abuse this morning, and it is not over yet. And the perps had me yell at the assholes very loudly, something they don't ordinarily let me do here. It may have something to do with the open window, and attempting to detect my own energetics through the open window rather than through the plexiglas panes they so like to rattle in the room shaking bullshit that went on all day yesterday. And I am sure a zapping was thrown into the overhead noise, just enough to perturb me but not make me jump.
1145h
Back to an all-quiet and then more room shaking via house pounding. There is no reason why closing the front door, even if slammed would cause the entire house to shake. I have experienced apartment shake/pulsing before, but nothing like the constant train of it that is going on. It is fucking sick to do this to anyone, day in, day out.
1215h
A short spell of an all-quiet, then a resounding room shake when reading the word "biodiesel". Surely to fuck that the assholes got something better to do than this, like expose themselves and declare why am I being constantly harassed over what I read, see and think at any given moment?
1300h
Lunch is over, and the assholes are back to pounding and shaking my room again; about 3 per five minutes currently, as the post-meal ingestion period is of significant interest to the assholes, and showing their faces isn't going to happen in this nonconsensual human abuse show. "Experimentation" is too generous to describe the reality of this depravity as being in prison would afford me more protection and freedom from intrusion.
Mind you, I suspect that the perps like to covertly monitor many in prison as they have considerable interest in what color of garments I am wearing, and having captive subjects with a single color garment every day is likely a godsend for the perp's quests in this regard.
On another topic, a 5' x 40" wardrobe arrived in the adjacent parking lot overnight, and was placed at the corner of the lot and the building where donations are taken for a charity called EIN, for Women In Need. Will the charity, currently open accept this object? Of course not; they have their supposed staff walk around it, and they leave it there, presumably for at least a full day of "exposure", aka perp games with color, object placement and juxtaposition and the rest of it. Currently, the game is to have a crimson red vehicle park in front of it to play the nonstop "peekaboo" games of placing various objects in front of one another. In this case, it is the all to familiar brown (wardrobe) partially obstructed by the red sedan. And this kind of juvenility is of huge interest to the perps, hence the all day placement of this wardrobe in a parking lot. This venality never ends, and the assault is constant all the time owing to some kind of sick minded depravity of not declaring themselves, even if fucking my life for some 47 years before going nearly five years of overt sabotage and and abuse.
More overnight games again; they woke me at about 0300h to organize some shenanigans in the parking lot outside my room, mainly voices talking loudly, and then the manager of this putative rooming house came out and had a few words with them, yelling at them to be quiet. There is nothing like having a row outside my room for whatever reason the perps have scripted. My theory is that the emotionally processed information is deeper in the limbic system, which is where they are continuing their research, as that area of the brain is not yet 100% fuckable.
There was a second awakening in the night where I was woken up for its own sake, and as I am thinking, the perps lay on overhead clunking noise. This particular source of in-house annoyance is of no concern, despite the charades of removing the earlier tenant who did the same thing. The above mentioned house manager is totally inconsistent as to what noise sources get pursued and what remains.
1420h
More room shaking inbetween cell phone calls from the hallway. It seems that the assholes are room shaking-stalking all the familiar web sites. As they display with a seen-before page, the perps put on a wholesale roomshake. This is similar to other modes of noise and vibration stalking. The cough-stalking has been deployed in the recent past to "happen" at these same junctures of web page display. Other commonly noise-stalkable coincidences are when I read celebrity names or other prominent citizens, usually ones that are familiar to me.
Meanwhile, the plasma and maser games continue, and the fuckers are continuning to throw these up in my central vision and float about. I wonder what script the optometrist is on should I go see him; the pretend-otherwise/all OK or some kind of expensive upgrade to my glasses which will doubtless serve the assholes, for penurious reasons alone, if nothing else. The fact that two of my hard drives failed at once suggests that these assholes are not concerned with infeasible events as a cover story. And of course no one adds up all these curiousities and comes to the conclusion that if 10% are correct, this amounts to a severe and constant intrusion into everything that I do.
The Sunday Feral Family Gangstalk Event calls for my parents to pick me up at my place and then proceed to my brother's for dinner there, and I get the driving at night duty which I don't mind. I suppose it is mainly centered around dusk onset and the fact that this is giving the perps considerable techinical difficulty, which is not my problem. This would be a four of five family member aggregation, as long as my other brother's (Kamloops BC) morph-over appearences last week aren't counted. I also suspect he does gangstalking here in this putative rooming house as there is one regular who keeps "showing up", and getting in close and not being the least concerned about it, including the cover blowing practice of waiting outside the communal bathroom when I was exiting it. And of course I wasn't allowed to ask him how he knew I was coming out just then, but that is the crux of it. Who is this asshole who keeps "showing up" all over the place, including outside.
The senseless room pounding is going on, as it has been all day yesterday and this morning; and I am getting mind fucked into vocalizing the obvious affrontery of it, which I assume feeds the asshole's games of creating more fuckable moments for them. More severe typo sabotage is "happening"; four attempts to get the last word of the previous sentence correct, jus the usual thanklessness of the assholes who continue this depravity after 52 years of it. What fucking sicko would keep this up?
1500h
The perps decided to take a task bar off my Firefox browser, and for a time, I was running without the Windows Task Manager bar at the bottom of the screen. This is a fairly benign fuckaround, but they have a habit of shaking up the status quo for whatever reason that serves their purpose.
As I will be heading out for Feral Family Dinner soon, I will cut this blog short for today, not that anything startling is likely to happen in any event.
A coughing and hacking contest is erupting; four of them alternating, one moving in close to the next door bathroom, putting on their never-get-better show, and continue to cough in sequence and synchrony. Unbelievable, and it erupted just after my mother's phone call, which was likely timed to the second. It is my theory that sensors of every kind; microphones, voice pickups, CCD's in digital cameras, film cameras and any other device for measurement can be co-opted by the perps for their own purposes of measuring energies us mortals are not allowed to know about in any formal established physics curiculum. I have had television cameras used as the gangstalking "assistance" device. This was at a two bit jeweller where the camera man went in ahead of me; more absurdity.
Now two hallway sprayings of "air freshener" so far today, the first was when I was shaving at about 0930h.
A major overhead ceiling pounding came like a bolt from the blue as I was reading the word "bananas"; this is just unbelivable abuse this morning, and it is not over yet. And the perps had me yell at the assholes very loudly, something they don't ordinarily let me do here. It may have something to do with the open window, and attempting to detect my own energetics through the open window rather than through the plexiglas panes they so like to rattle in the room shaking bullshit that went on all day yesterday. And I am sure a zapping was thrown into the overhead noise, just enough to perturb me but not make me jump.
1145h
Back to an all-quiet and then more room shaking via house pounding. There is no reason why closing the front door, even if slammed would cause the entire house to shake. I have experienced apartment shake/pulsing before, but nothing like the constant train of it that is going on. It is fucking sick to do this to anyone, day in, day out.
1215h
A short spell of an all-quiet, then a resounding room shake when reading the word "biodiesel". Surely to fuck that the assholes got something better to do than this, like expose themselves and declare why am I being constantly harassed over what I read, see and think at any given moment?
1300h
Lunch is over, and the assholes are back to pounding and shaking my room again; about 3 per five minutes currently, as the post-meal ingestion period is of significant interest to the assholes, and showing their faces isn't going to happen in this nonconsensual human abuse show. "Experimentation" is too generous to describe the reality of this depravity as being in prison would afford me more protection and freedom from intrusion.
Mind you, I suspect that the perps like to covertly monitor many in prison as they have considerable interest in what color of garments I am wearing, and having captive subjects with a single color garment every day is likely a godsend for the perp's quests in this regard.
On another topic, a 5' x 40" wardrobe arrived in the adjacent parking lot overnight, and was placed at the corner of the lot and the building where donations are taken for a charity called EIN, for Women In Need. Will the charity, currently open accept this object? Of course not; they have their supposed staff walk around it, and they leave it there, presumably for at least a full day of "exposure", aka perp games with color, object placement and juxtaposition and the rest of it. Currently, the game is to have a crimson red vehicle park in front of it to play the nonstop "peekaboo" games of placing various objects in front of one another. In this case, it is the all to familiar brown (wardrobe) partially obstructed by the red sedan. And this kind of juvenility is of huge interest to the perps, hence the all day placement of this wardrobe in a parking lot. This venality never ends, and the assault is constant all the time owing to some kind of sick minded depravity of not declaring themselves, even if fucking my life for some 47 years before going nearly five years of overt sabotage and and abuse.
More overnight games again; they woke me at about 0300h to organize some shenanigans in the parking lot outside my room, mainly voices talking loudly, and then the manager of this putative rooming house came out and had a few words with them, yelling at them to be quiet. There is nothing like having a row outside my room for whatever reason the perps have scripted. My theory is that the emotionally processed information is deeper in the limbic system, which is where they are continuing their research, as that area of the brain is not yet 100% fuckable.
There was a second awakening in the night where I was woken up for its own sake, and as I am thinking, the perps lay on overhead clunking noise. This particular source of in-house annoyance is of no concern, despite the charades of removing the earlier tenant who did the same thing. The above mentioned house manager is totally inconsistent as to what noise sources get pursued and what remains.
1420h
More room shaking inbetween cell phone calls from the hallway. It seems that the assholes are room shaking-stalking all the familiar web sites. As they display with a seen-before page, the perps put on a wholesale roomshake. This is similar to other modes of noise and vibration stalking. The cough-stalking has been deployed in the recent past to "happen" at these same junctures of web page display. Other commonly noise-stalkable coincidences are when I read celebrity names or other prominent citizens, usually ones that are familiar to me.
Meanwhile, the plasma and maser games continue, and the fuckers are continuning to throw these up in my central vision and float about. I wonder what script the optometrist is on should I go see him; the pretend-otherwise/all OK or some kind of expensive upgrade to my glasses which will doubtless serve the assholes, for penurious reasons alone, if nothing else. The fact that two of my hard drives failed at once suggests that these assholes are not concerned with infeasible events as a cover story. And of course no one adds up all these curiousities and comes to the conclusion that if 10% are correct, this amounts to a severe and constant intrusion into everything that I do.
The Sunday Feral Family Gangstalk Event calls for my parents to pick me up at my place and then proceed to my brother's for dinner there, and I get the driving at night duty which I don't mind. I suppose it is mainly centered around dusk onset and the fact that this is giving the perps considerable techinical difficulty, which is not my problem. This would be a four of five family member aggregation, as long as my other brother's (Kamloops BC) morph-over appearences last week aren't counted. I also suspect he does gangstalking here in this putative rooming house as there is one regular who keeps "showing up", and getting in close and not being the least concerned about it, including the cover blowing practice of waiting outside the communal bathroom when I was exiting it. And of course I wasn't allowed to ask him how he knew I was coming out just then, but that is the crux of it. Who is this asshole who keeps "showing up" all over the place, including outside.
The senseless room pounding is going on, as it has been all day yesterday and this morning; and I am getting mind fucked into vocalizing the obvious affrontery of it, which I assume feeds the asshole's games of creating more fuckable moments for them. More severe typo sabotage is "happening"; four attempts to get the last word of the previous sentence correct, jus the usual thanklessness of the assholes who continue this depravity after 52 years of it. What fucking sicko would keep this up?
1500h
The perps decided to take a task bar off my Firefox browser, and for a time, I was running without the Windows Task Manager bar at the bottom of the screen. This is a fairly benign fuckaround, but they have a habit of shaking up the status quo for whatever reason that serves their purpose.
As I will be heading out for Feral Family Dinner soon, I will cut this blog short for today, not that anything startling is likely to happen in any event.
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