1930h
And what is it about orange that is the focus of perp nonsense the past few weeks, and continuing today on the city bus freakshow. The 1632h #28 bus on a Wednesday from suburbia into downtown with over 30 passengers. This is the reverse commute of course, and I have yet to fathom any conventional reason for these town-bound buses at the end of the work day are so busy, except it being a mobile gangstalking platform of freak exposition.
Such was the shoulder length kinky haired dude hugging his guitar case in a red shirt and red backpack. Only the guitar counts as a neutral feature, the remainder is all very Unfavored, especially the atrocious hair. And this same hair on a different dude (taller, unlikely a morph-over) was on show this morning in the lobby when headed out for the bus for about the 10th time in the last three months. Yes, I loathe kinky hair, brownish red to red hair colors, long haired males (regardless of race), and why am I getting constantly gangstalked with these freaks?
Another odd dude with his long hair tucked under his ballcap came with an orange plastic bag and had it sitting in view, along the sightline of the side of the bus, and no one, save the person immediately in front of me, was ever blocking that infernal plastic bag. He as at the front of the bus behind the driver, and I was in the rear on the bench seat.
I suppose part of today's orange color nonsense began after having Hob-Nobs (at least six), a cookie in an orange colored wrapping for the first time today. Normally my perp abetting mother gets a blue-purple Cadbury biscuit that has one side coated in chocolate. But as it "happens", as she claims, this kind is not found in the usual supermarkets she visits, so she got Hob-Nobs as a substitute for the first time today. And of course more orange peels seem to be left out on the streets, and expecially at street corners. This sudden eruption of public sloth couldn't have anything to do with this orange campaign of the perps could it?
And as mentioned, the hot cooked chicken meat I purchase and then keep as a supply for two weeks comes with paprika spice all over it, an orange color, and it seems this may also be fuelling the perp's sudden interest in "orange color stalking".
2030h
And I have found my supposed overhead new neighbors (har, har) to be just as active in pounding their floor to create noise from above, and exactly overhead of where I am. Regular readers will know that I contend, based on observation, that the perps seem to have emptied this apartment block of genuine tenants, as they have done for at least the three former residence locations, and possibly ones before that when living in Everett and Seattle, before they went overt/beserk nine years ago. And in fact, all the residential towers, some to 18 stories in the adjacent two blocks seem to be largely vacant of real tenants, or at least, have much fewer than normal. There are office buildings nearby, and I really couldn't say if they are occupied or not as I have never taken stock as to whether the gangstalk flux represents tenancy. Based on the news stories in the newspaper, the new office buildings, at least three, have tenants and are close to fully occupied. I am quite sure that I am being irradiated with something, and that they don't want anyone to get irradiated more than they intend, so they limit the adjacent residences. Ditto for my mother's suburban neighborhood; lots of houses with no one around and all the time. Immediately adjacent neighbors seem to come to make noise and then take off.
I did more weeding at the First Feral Family house today, always a big perp interest event. As usual, the aircraft noise comes on first, the STRATCOM B-52's, the local float plane aircraft, then private aircraft to fill in by buzzing around. Then comes the supposed hot rods, or at least in noise form, augmented with the so-called performance mufflers that are steadily getting louder by the day. After that comes lawnmowers from nearby, and then the next door adult throat clearing and coughing comes on with the later additon of children's voices.
Tonight, the perps went on with fake water noises, the overhead rumbling and clunking shile eating chocolate with my tea, and closing out with siren noises. These noises are often timed to start when I take tea or chocolate into my mouth, changing up the color contents which are all important to them as they are less than a half inch from one's brain. The noise assault continues while cleaning the dishes and then backed off. But not for long; I was in my office chair for some two minutes waiting for th ePC to boot up and then the overhead pounding (12" of concrete) starts up, and then a body zapping with a simultaneous clunk from the hallway. And have I mentioned how much I like getting zapped? Too many times to count, and enough to want to put a round in the head of the asshole who did it, every time.
The most persistent and fully formed vocational ideation theme is this revitalized oil and gas industy labor work. They started this over three years ago and now it has reached fever pitch, as they had me looking a videos last night of the drilling work. I hadn't seen it before, and I wasn't too impressed that this might be my next real job, if their planted ideations are close to prevail. And too, they also run ideations as to what it would be like to live in Alberta or like locations where the oil and gas fields are. Even to the point of shopping, which is a major endeavor if one lives in small towns, and one must travel long distances sometimes. Anyhow, I don't know where all this is going, but they did put me through this same bullshit a few years ago, though less developed, as a fork lift driver. At the time, the farm where I was working had two forklifts, but there was never any effort on their part to suggest taking training. It was a huge bullshit stunt in other words, and it went on for two years, and now they have dropped it. I suppose this latest one will pass too, and it is a matter of waiting it out.
That is about it for today, nothing too spectacular, though there is plenty abuses to which I have been habituated and "forget" to mention.
Showing posts with label orange color stalking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label orange color stalking. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
Sunday, November 07, 2010
Chattering Masses
1425h
A dull Saturday, and very dark today, though no rain like much of yesterday. (I was inside for al the rain, getting out in the morning to deal with my eyeglasses first thing, and then being kept house-bound for the rest of the day). And it seems that today is unfolding in a similar fashion; getting out after a very heavily noisetalked shaving after breakfast. It was to the local supermarket to get bread, which of late has really meant small size tortilla to put my coconut butter on, as the bread crumb wars got so fucking intense, a low crumb solution like tortillas was much needed. I had finished the bread up, and then got onto the small size tortillas imported from California, and lo, if another loaf of bread didn't somehow arrive in the freezer where I keep the gluten free bread. It doesn't happen often that the assholes will actually supply me with something, a food item especially, as they often screw me into buying the wrong thing with their mind-fuck games they constantly pull. So maybe I gave up gluten-free for gluten but no crumb games. Or more likely, no excuses for crumb games with unleavened bread. And today I got screwed as the small size wasn't there, and they had me pick up the larger size of this same line of tortillas. And lo, if the tortillas I cook with, the Ezekiel sprouted gran brand needed to be picked up in the freezer case nearby, so they could be "pals" in the shopping basket. (Read, direct energetic interaction at the same acquisition visitation).
Enough on the travails of tortillas and the crumb wars that go on each day, and the chattering masses noise of last night. They kept me awake in bed for 1.5 hours at least, all to hear the sounds of multiple voices as if a party werer in progress. Indistinct voices as I couldn't make out what was being said, though enough to know if it was male or female. And that is what a lot of the ongoing harassment games are about, getting me to hear or to make voices noise, as this has registry in the human emotion processing area of one's brain, called the amygdala. And some say, where psychic energies are processed. But the strange thing was that the perps' setup had party voices from the S. side and above simultaneously, and even from outside, which takes some doing, as this apartment is six stories up. Call it a multi-directional barrage of voice noise, the first time they have escalated this particular fuckery. Another never-before eruption of human behavior in this location.
At the supermarket this morning they were ready for me with the red fleece vests among other vile color collages they like to put on. At the cashier, they had the hair dye job woman (Unfavored for her reddish hair dye iridescence) on duty, she of 5' or so height, and then they had the taller attractive and chatty blonde woman (very Favored) cashier come in behind her to purportedly attend to something. This would be another example of having the blonde babe as the Favored demographic group member, to momentarily back the Unfavored member. Think of it like "yuck, the dye hair job on the older woman", with the sudden arrival and pausing for five to ten seconds or so, of the "hmm, very nice blonde babe" reaction. And of course, the perps seem to want to separate and energetically reconcile my perception of the Favored and the Unfavored, and what better way than to put them together? Last week they had an attractive blonde babe on the bus two seats ahead for a few minutes before inserting an overweight dude who seemed to be lacking a real day job. As before, this "blonde aura co-opting" is a long standing perp method, and is as consistent as their abusiveness.
Other minor excitement was that they had a large sisplay of Hawkin's cheezies (orange color ones behind the tinted bag pane) adjacent to the hot cooked chicken, an ongoing medium of inserting orange colored food into me, (the paprika and sauce they douse the chicken in), and had me walk between these two orange sources. It was notable in that the junk food is usually confined to a single aisle, and here they had "featured" the cheezies next to the healthy food. And lo, if there wasn't a male Fuckwit some 60' away in his orange fleece vest, walking toward me after I departed. The past orange color games have been consistent with this stunt as well, so I don't usually go into detail over each orange-stalking event. Just another of their obsession colors they like to pull on me, and having me eat orange color spiced chicken meat is all part of the ongoing game/fuckery.
Plenty of vision impairment games to rile me up this morning, as it seems that the introduction of a new deeper brown color coffee at breakfast might be what is important to them. They finally let me in on new sources of pre-ground coffee that I had somehow "overlooked" and then got stiffed with standing at the in-store coffee grinder for four minutes or so while all these Fuckwits coursed around me. A total sitting target, something I take great pains to avoid, standing still somewhere. I suppose there might be a run on Fuckwits to emulate me and my in-store coffee grinding of the past six or so years, before the ground coffee sources seemed to dry up, as I have never seen anyone using any of the three coffee grinders in this small supermarket to date.
Another excitement feature this morning was shaving with the last of the shaving foam in this particular can. Inaugural or ultimate product use is always a big deal as there is something thrown in the garbage, and to have me outside on the heels of finishing a can of shaving lotion is a big deal for the assholes. I could tell that they were cranked up about this because they laid on heavy noisestalking; incessant ceiling clickings from nowhere (concrete floor/ceilings), elevator noise through the wall from outside, and yet more chattering in the hallway. No big deal for me, though it seems they can never get enough of the shaving games.
Now back to putzing around online and reading books; it seems that movie and music viewing and listening are largely forbidden as these activities get sabotaged within five minutes or so.
1810h
I am using Internet Explorer as I type this, and see that the perps stripped out a huge number of features in my usual Firefox browser. Having the same page up, but fully feataured seems to be a big deal for them.
1930h
Now back to the Firefox browser as Internet Explorer was somehow blowing up, and preventing cut and paste for crissakes. Lots of accompanying noise as I switched activities from the complete browser to the stark naked one that Firefox has been reduced to for this Blogspot site.
2400h
Month end accounting got brutal; at least 30 screaming rage-ifications over strange Quicken behavior and navigation. They wont let me pick a certain category off the list but will for the next ones above and below, related to the parent category. Fucking bizarre. This outbreak of abuse when it was getting humane might be related to the fact that they had me put on extra socks and a sweater to keep warm, as they chilled me down following tea and chocolate break.
And even one transaction for $35 or so, on my debit card, did not show up on my account statement, yet I specifically remember the items that are on the reciept. And the assholes got great mileage for Quicken fuckery when there were two identical transactions amounts for the same payee, some 20 days apart, as then they could fuck the download order and make the dates jump around, as if it were a Quicken sort problem. They have also taken to clobbering the stored transactions on the download, overwriting common payee and category associations, good for 20 minutes of clean up. All to pursue me over endless permutations and combinations of everything I do; it boggles the mind as to what they are attempting in this insane abusive invasion.
Enough of the grief, time to call this one done.
A dull Saturday, and very dark today, though no rain like much of yesterday. (I was inside for al the rain, getting out in the morning to deal with my eyeglasses first thing, and then being kept house-bound for the rest of the day). And it seems that today is unfolding in a similar fashion; getting out after a very heavily noisetalked shaving after breakfast. It was to the local supermarket to get bread, which of late has really meant small size tortilla to put my coconut butter on, as the bread crumb wars got so fucking intense, a low crumb solution like tortillas was much needed. I had finished the bread up, and then got onto the small size tortillas imported from California, and lo, if another loaf of bread didn't somehow arrive in the freezer where I keep the gluten free bread. It doesn't happen often that the assholes will actually supply me with something, a food item especially, as they often screw me into buying the wrong thing with their mind-fuck games they constantly pull. So maybe I gave up gluten-free for gluten but no crumb games. Or more likely, no excuses for crumb games with unleavened bread. And today I got screwed as the small size wasn't there, and they had me pick up the larger size of this same line of tortillas. And lo, if the tortillas I cook with, the Ezekiel sprouted gran brand needed to be picked up in the freezer case nearby, so they could be "pals" in the shopping basket. (Read, direct energetic interaction at the same acquisition visitation).
Enough on the travails of tortillas and the crumb wars that go on each day, and the chattering masses noise of last night. They kept me awake in bed for 1.5 hours at least, all to hear the sounds of multiple voices as if a party werer in progress. Indistinct voices as I couldn't make out what was being said, though enough to know if it was male or female. And that is what a lot of the ongoing harassment games are about, getting me to hear or to make voices noise, as this has registry in the human emotion processing area of one's brain, called the amygdala. And some say, where psychic energies are processed. But the strange thing was that the perps' setup had party voices from the S. side and above simultaneously, and even from outside, which takes some doing, as this apartment is six stories up. Call it a multi-directional barrage of voice noise, the first time they have escalated this particular fuckery. Another never-before eruption of human behavior in this location.
At the supermarket this morning they were ready for me with the red fleece vests among other vile color collages they like to put on. At the cashier, they had the hair dye job woman (Unfavored for her reddish hair dye iridescence) on duty, she of 5' or so height, and then they had the taller attractive and chatty blonde woman (very Favored) cashier come in behind her to purportedly attend to something. This would be another example of having the blonde babe as the Favored demographic group member, to momentarily back the Unfavored member. Think of it like "yuck, the dye hair job on the older woman", with the sudden arrival and pausing for five to ten seconds or so, of the "hmm, very nice blonde babe" reaction. And of course, the perps seem to want to separate and energetically reconcile my perception of the Favored and the Unfavored, and what better way than to put them together? Last week they had an attractive blonde babe on the bus two seats ahead for a few minutes before inserting an overweight dude who seemed to be lacking a real day job. As before, this "blonde aura co-opting" is a long standing perp method, and is as consistent as their abusiveness.
Other minor excitement was that they had a large sisplay of Hawkin's cheezies (orange color ones behind the tinted bag pane) adjacent to the hot cooked chicken, an ongoing medium of inserting orange colored food into me, (the paprika and sauce they douse the chicken in), and had me walk between these two orange sources. It was notable in that the junk food is usually confined to a single aisle, and here they had "featured" the cheezies next to the healthy food. And lo, if there wasn't a male Fuckwit some 60' away in his orange fleece vest, walking toward me after I departed. The past orange color games have been consistent with this stunt as well, so I don't usually go into detail over each orange-stalking event. Just another of their obsession colors they like to pull on me, and having me eat orange color spiced chicken meat is all part of the ongoing game/fuckery.
Plenty of vision impairment games to rile me up this morning, as it seems that the introduction of a new deeper brown color coffee at breakfast might be what is important to them. They finally let me in on new sources of pre-ground coffee that I had somehow "overlooked" and then got stiffed with standing at the in-store coffee grinder for four minutes or so while all these Fuckwits coursed around me. A total sitting target, something I take great pains to avoid, standing still somewhere. I suppose there might be a run on Fuckwits to emulate me and my in-store coffee grinding of the past six or so years, before the ground coffee sources seemed to dry up, as I have never seen anyone using any of the three coffee grinders in this small supermarket to date.
Another excitement feature this morning was shaving with the last of the shaving foam in this particular can. Inaugural or ultimate product use is always a big deal as there is something thrown in the garbage, and to have me outside on the heels of finishing a can of shaving lotion is a big deal for the assholes. I could tell that they were cranked up about this because they laid on heavy noisestalking; incessant ceiling clickings from nowhere (concrete floor/ceilings), elevator noise through the wall from outside, and yet more chattering in the hallway. No big deal for me, though it seems they can never get enough of the shaving games.
Now back to putzing around online and reading books; it seems that movie and music viewing and listening are largely forbidden as these activities get sabotaged within five minutes or so.
1810h
I am using Internet Explorer as I type this, and see that the perps stripped out a huge number of features in my usual Firefox browser. Having the same page up, but fully feataured seems to be a big deal for them.
1930h
Now back to the Firefox browser as Internet Explorer was somehow blowing up, and preventing cut and paste for crissakes. Lots of accompanying noise as I switched activities from the complete browser to the stark naked one that Firefox has been reduced to for this Blogspot site.
2400h
Month end accounting got brutal; at least 30 screaming rage-ifications over strange Quicken behavior and navigation. They wont let me pick a certain category off the list but will for the next ones above and below, related to the parent category. Fucking bizarre. This outbreak of abuse when it was getting humane might be related to the fact that they had me put on extra socks and a sweater to keep warm, as they chilled me down following tea and chocolate break.
And even one transaction for $35 or so, on my debit card, did not show up on my account statement, yet I specifically remember the items that are on the reciept. And the assholes got great mileage for Quicken fuckery when there were two identical transactions amounts for the same payee, some 20 days apart, as then they could fuck the download order and make the dates jump around, as if it were a Quicken sort problem. They have also taken to clobbering the stored transactions on the download, overwriting common payee and category associations, good for 20 minutes of clean up. All to pursue me over endless permutations and combinations of everything I do; it boggles the mind as to what they are attempting in this insane abusive invasion.
Enough of the grief, time to call this one done.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Chicken Run Time
1205h
I made a 10 minute visit to the local grocery store and back earlier, all to get the most gangstalked item of all, the hot cooked chicken. It now comes with some orange-ish sauce on it, and lo, if there wasn't an same oranged coated gangstalker buzzing around me before I placed it in my basket, and then two more passes before he settled in behind me as the next "customer" in the checkout line. The dude ahead of me at the checkout came to return his glass bottles, hence some localized glass bashing ahead and during my groceries being rung up by the cashier. Two cashiers in fact, a tag team arrangement that has been observed before at other stores as well, no matter what I purchase.
Said orange coated operative, also in ghastly green pants, the same color as the chair that I sit on when online, also did the "cough", that ever familiar short throat cough that erupts around me, and in this case, timed to coincide with my debit card transaction. Just part of the game, not to mention the debit card read being wobbly on its mount, the cashier holding it still while I transact, and the other tag team cashier member moved the adjacent plastic bags at this time time. Then a grey-haired (read, silver grey, a favorite perp color) third cashier arrived to then dip her head in apparent conversation with one of the younger tag team cashiers, and it was placed such that their heads were close to together, and the silver grey hair spilled in front of her face so it couldn't be seen. I take this to be an effort in separating hair and head from one's face as observed by me, and with the perps evaluating all the neural energetics of each component and object of what I see. (And as I typed the name of the guilty party, an overhead eruption of noise came on, as have a succession of loud mufflered vehicles on the street).
And the plasma action in front of this LCD panel is also getting obnoxious, as was an orange flash outside, just the same color orange as identified above.
The orange games at the grcery store weren't over yet; as I exited the store, a same orange colored translucent plastic bag toting operative was passing close by, and had arranged himself to pass by on my right side, one of the vaunted "needs" of the ambulatory gangstalkers that is so familiar to me. The left-hand drive pedestrians have been journaled about in past blogs, and it still continues to be the big deal for gangstalking choreography.
As usual, there was a surfeit of wandering males on the streets and in the grocery store; I have never seen so many on weekdays, this in a city where it is difficult to get low pay workers. Here they all are, buzzing around me. Being an operative must pay better than minimum wage I suspect. And nice benefits too; teleportation commutes, shape changing, and outside work. All to harass the living shit out of a victim that has been followed for 47 years before outing themselves as the depraved and beserk assholes they truly are.
I was "treated" to only an hour of sleeplessness and head flipping last night before being allowed to go to sleep, very decent of the perps, especially on a Monday where they appear to maximize this kind of fuckery. I had some ugly and stupid dreams before I was awakened, though I cannot recall exactly what. The perps like to leave me with the emotional impression of the dreams, and appear to jump on me with coincident noisestalking should I recall actual dream content.
The right side eyelid spasming games are being played of late; a "spontaneous" event that is increasing for no known reason, and it last "featured" in 1978 for no reason as well. The then treatment was prescribed Valium, and it was the putative cause for the sudden sleepy events that followed. Funny how that happens again on most afternoons now.
More maser emanations are "happening" when I first get up these mornings; yesterday it was the perps sucking the light out of my right eye, today it was the assholes targeting me with strange dots and drifting filamentous masers. The even kept a consistent plasma shape in my vision and brought it on each time I blinked, or more like, was forced to blink.
The typo sabotage is getting out of hand, time to cease journaling for now.
1815h
More file sabotage I note; some of the corrections needed above were inserted after I shut down the PC to go out to my gym class.
After walking to the gym, working out, and walking back, it was quite clear that the perp's color theme was red, and more red, which doesn't surprise me as they were at this for my outings last week, and of course, their finale was to have one of their operatives assault me for a in situ blood sample as described in the blog of 10-18-2007. There were more blood red and burgundy red vehicles on vehicular gangstalking, and less of the deep metallic red colored vehicles. This didn't stop them from putting all three colors together in a red threesome cluster, often with accompanying white or silver grey vehicles. And still more ambulatory gangstalkers in red clothing, some to the point of absurd.
The usual 600 to 1,000 vehicles were coursing by on vehicular gangstalking duty, and many more are parked and arranged in specific color sequences.
And the intersection where last week's physical assault took place had the crosswalk and stop lines re-painted since I was last there that fateful day. This was the first time back on that route, so it was interesting to see what the changes were. The perps also put on a person spraying red lines on the sidewalk, there for both my outbound and inbound directions. The assumption is that they are marking lines for undertaking future street works, though by experience, I have come to know that the painted sidewalk lines are simply there for the perps color reference games. Call it the cover story for street painting, just as the grafitti is for the vertical surfaces they have marked up all over town.
There was more blatant gangstalking in the gym as well; some weird long haired dude came to stand 5' behind me while I was doing lunges with the free weights, and that was all he did. End of that routine real fast. Once I finished up in the free weights area there were at least fifteen of them that congregated around the bench I used, most of them doing nothing but wandering around, attempting to look busy, but were too obvious by half. I don't know what the deal is, but they like to be seen engaging in odd behavior.
In the floor exercise room there was a new routine and four of the class, cum operatives, were packed around me and another two "flaked out", and stood at the wall, pretending they weren't up to the exercise. The perps put on their full lineup of blonde class members today; the chubby happy blonde, the grimmacing overweight one, and latest introduction, the very overweight one who joined last week. The Three Blondes, akin the the child's story, the Three Bears. It was a bit strange having all three, and that is a first, but the real question is what is it all about? Are they graduated steps in odious obesity for blondes, a fine tuning of what the perps often do, creating incremental steps toward defining the demographic groups that they so like to draw from to gangstalk me with?
There has been a variety of guts on male gangstalkers as well; from small to excessively large, and the perps like me to see them in profile much of the time. Lately the perps have been working on the smaller guts, testing me out on the degrees of male beer guts, however one defines them.
And a red headed woman has joined the class as of today, one of my cluster around me when doing the abovementioned lunges. And lo, if she wasn't in an identical dark brown top to that of the overweight (mid size) blonde woman . Next, the men will be in sport jackets I suspect, to continue on this theme of re-introduction to the demographic groups, and deconstructing the gradations to which I subconsciously react to, positively or negatively.
There is no getting away from vacuum cleaners as it "so happens"; a the gym they had two of them in operation, one at each end of the room for a stereo effect. The cover story for one of them was the dismantling and cleaning of a treadmill machine, and the usual pinching of aisleway access, something that is becoming more frequent wherever I go.
The red-haired woman made sure to precede me out the door, just slipping through to cause the door and door jamb pass within an inch of either side of her while moving through the doorway. This close "tolerance" doorway egress trick has been observed before on elevator doors where the operative slips through, contacting the rubber edges, but without triggering an opening of the doors again. The red-haired woman ducked out to the left and walked between the adjacent workout machines instead of taking the usual narrow pathway to the main aisle. For someone who was new there, she knew her way around. So I took the expectable and normal 6' path, and lo, if there wasn't a brown cardboard box located in the middle of this all-too narrow path.
This is the new normal, just like the stocking carts and the grocery store, there is almost always one on any visit, and before the intensified overt harassment began, it was a rarity. And it does not matter which store I visit, there is a city-wide "eruption" of stocking carts wherever I shop, and always with a considerable flattened stack of brown cardboard boxes on or beside it. Invariably, the stocking assistant is in "bend-over" mode, a position that seems to offer optimum energetic interaction, stretching the spine. And it should be noted for new readers that the color brown causes the perps no end of obsession, and they make my life a living hell for whatever they are attempting to do or use with this color. In my opinion, the perps are totally obsessed over all colors of substances and organs in the human body, and the color brown appears to be the most problematic for them, which I suspect relates to their blundering intrusions when I was toilet training, about 1956 or so.
Much of the perp activity related to colors is the placement of one in front of another; they harass the hell out of me making peanut butter and jam on toast every morning, and frequently move one gangstalker in front of another, partially at first, then entirely, to determine the energetic color interaction with me. They do the same for vehicles, hence the coordinated colors, often using white, black and silver-grey as reference colors behind the red, green, brown, orange or other colors they are attempting to experiment with at that moment.
And I couldn't help but notice another drilling in the street today; I am no civil engineer, but the perps have demolished, and are installing a new gasoline fuelling station at this one location where two one way streets join to become a two way street. This is on my walking route to the gym, and today, in the center left lane they had a soil drill, which looked to be about to drill a 4" hole. When I came back, the 8' drill bit was laid horizontal on the ground, and I assume that the drilling had been completed. I have no idea what the apparent need was, but this "event" type has followed me over two cities, and about every six months or so, another drill hole "happens" in my proximity, even if only walking past.
There is still more street digging only a block from my residence location to deal with a 5' rise in the street, and supposedly, an undrained bog lies below. This looks to be at least two more weeks, and it seems the perps like to have large quantities of 30" green PVC storm drain pipe stored nearby (me) for as long as possible.
The overhead pounding has started up, and is sounding each time I type up the noisestalked words of the day. One cannot get more precise than that in timing noise to my actions or thoughts, so what could it be and how do they know? Simple; it is called remote neural monitoring, and has a long documented history here.
1950h
The predominant noise for the past 40 minutes has been faint shouts and vocalizations with coordinated cheering, overhead thumping and church bells, this being practice night. The first two may well be projected sound, but the bells are for real, and there is nothing the perps like better than to have vibrations set up around me. I wanted to block the faint noise with the earmuffs, but this became problematic when a rumbling noise was ported into the earmuffs, and then the perps pinged on the sprung earmuff's headband to further piss me off. Perhaps a music CD instead, though they haven't finished thumping overhead. And to be clear, it is a concrete floor/ceiling 12 storey building and yet has all the noise of being in wood framed warehouse with someone puposely making noise for its own sake.
2230h
Now whining of the putative "neighbor's" water usage, though in fact it seemed to be a ruse to have me close the bathroom door, being brown colored of course.
Time to call this done for the day, and blog off.
Not soon enough; as I was putting the link in to the perp's brown color problem, the assholes pounded overhead and gave me a simultaneous zapping, a sure fire piss off, and one that they screw me into screaming about everytime. Fucking sick and cowardly, and all they do is jerk people's lives around who are totally innocent and do not deserve this treatment whatsoever. And that is the real problem, the assholes won't front themselves, but remain hidden to apply their nonconsensual human experimentation games. And yet they arrange my entire life, and a cast of over 10,000 to keep jerking me around.
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Noisestalked words du jour: targeted, noisestalk, me
I made a 10 minute visit to the local grocery store and back earlier, all to get the most gangstalked item of all, the hot cooked chicken. It now comes with some orange-ish sauce on it, and lo, if there wasn't an same oranged coated gangstalker buzzing around me before I placed it in my basket, and then two more passes before he settled in behind me as the next "customer" in the checkout line. The dude ahead of me at the checkout came to return his glass bottles, hence some localized glass bashing ahead and during my groceries being rung up by the cashier. Two cashiers in fact, a tag team arrangement that has been observed before at other stores as well, no matter what I purchase.
Said orange coated operative, also in ghastly green pants, the same color as the chair that I sit on when online, also did the "cough", that ever familiar short throat cough that erupts around me, and in this case, timed to coincide with my debit card transaction. Just part of the game, not to mention the debit card read being wobbly on its mount, the cashier holding it still while I transact, and the other tag team cashier member moved the adjacent plastic bags at this time time. Then a grey-haired (read, silver grey, a favorite perp color) third cashier arrived to then dip her head in apparent conversation with one of the younger tag team cashiers, and it was placed such that their heads were close to together, and the silver grey hair spilled in front of her face so it couldn't be seen. I take this to be an effort in separating hair and head from one's face as observed by me, and with the perps evaluating all the neural energetics of each component and object of what I see. (And as I typed the name of the guilty party, an overhead eruption of noise came on, as have a succession of loud mufflered vehicles on the street).
And the plasma action in front of this LCD panel is also getting obnoxious, as was an orange flash outside, just the same color orange as identified above.
The orange games at the grcery store weren't over yet; as I exited the store, a same orange colored translucent plastic bag toting operative was passing close by, and had arranged himself to pass by on my right side, one of the vaunted "needs" of the ambulatory gangstalkers that is so familiar to me. The left-hand drive pedestrians have been journaled about in past blogs, and it still continues to be the big deal for gangstalking choreography.
As usual, there was a surfeit of wandering males on the streets and in the grocery store; I have never seen so many on weekdays, this in a city where it is difficult to get low pay workers. Here they all are, buzzing around me. Being an operative must pay better than minimum wage I suspect. And nice benefits too; teleportation commutes, shape changing, and outside work. All to harass the living shit out of a victim that has been followed for 47 years before outing themselves as the depraved and beserk assholes they truly are.
I was "treated" to only an hour of sleeplessness and head flipping last night before being allowed to go to sleep, very decent of the perps, especially on a Monday where they appear to maximize this kind of fuckery. I had some ugly and stupid dreams before I was awakened, though I cannot recall exactly what. The perps like to leave me with the emotional impression of the dreams, and appear to jump on me with coincident noisestalking should I recall actual dream content.
The right side eyelid spasming games are being played of late; a "spontaneous" event that is increasing for no known reason, and it last "featured" in 1978 for no reason as well. The then treatment was prescribed Valium, and it was the putative cause for the sudden sleepy events that followed. Funny how that happens again on most afternoons now.
More maser emanations are "happening" when I first get up these mornings; yesterday it was the perps sucking the light out of my right eye, today it was the assholes targeting me with strange dots and drifting filamentous masers. The even kept a consistent plasma shape in my vision and brought it on each time I blinked, or more like, was forced to blink.
The typo sabotage is getting out of hand, time to cease journaling for now.
1815h
More file sabotage I note; some of the corrections needed above were inserted after I shut down the PC to go out to my gym class.
After walking to the gym, working out, and walking back, it was quite clear that the perp's color theme was red, and more red, which doesn't surprise me as they were at this for my outings last week, and of course, their finale was to have one of their operatives assault me for a in situ blood sample as described in the blog of 10-18-2007. There were more blood red and burgundy red vehicles on vehicular gangstalking, and less of the deep metallic red colored vehicles. This didn't stop them from putting all three colors together in a red threesome cluster, often with accompanying white or silver grey vehicles. And still more ambulatory gangstalkers in red clothing, some to the point of absurd.
The usual 600 to 1,000 vehicles were coursing by on vehicular gangstalking duty, and many more are parked and arranged in specific color sequences.
And the intersection where last week's physical assault took place had the crosswalk and stop lines re-painted since I was last there that fateful day. This was the first time back on that route, so it was interesting to see what the changes were. The perps also put on a person spraying red lines on the sidewalk, there for both my outbound and inbound directions. The assumption is that they are marking lines for undertaking future street works, though by experience, I have come to know that the painted sidewalk lines are simply there for the perps color reference games. Call it the cover story for street painting, just as the grafitti is for the vertical surfaces they have marked up all over town.
There was more blatant gangstalking in the gym as well; some weird long haired dude came to stand 5' behind me while I was doing lunges with the free weights, and that was all he did. End of that routine real fast. Once I finished up in the free weights area there were at least fifteen of them that congregated around the bench I used, most of them doing nothing but wandering around, attempting to look busy, but were too obvious by half. I don't know what the deal is, but they like to be seen engaging in odd behavior.
In the floor exercise room there was a new routine and four of the class, cum operatives, were packed around me and another two "flaked out", and stood at the wall, pretending they weren't up to the exercise. The perps put on their full lineup of blonde class members today; the chubby happy blonde, the grimmacing overweight one, and latest introduction, the very overweight one who joined last week. The Three Blondes, akin the the child's story, the Three Bears. It was a bit strange having all three, and that is a first, but the real question is what is it all about? Are they graduated steps in odious obesity for blondes, a fine tuning of what the perps often do, creating incremental steps toward defining the demographic groups that they so like to draw from to gangstalk me with?
There has been a variety of guts on male gangstalkers as well; from small to excessively large, and the perps like me to see them in profile much of the time. Lately the perps have been working on the smaller guts, testing me out on the degrees of male beer guts, however one defines them.
And a red headed woman has joined the class as of today, one of my cluster around me when doing the abovementioned lunges. And lo, if she wasn't in an identical dark brown top to that of the overweight (mid size) blonde woman . Next, the men will be in sport jackets I suspect, to continue on this theme of re-introduction to the demographic groups, and deconstructing the gradations to which I subconsciously react to, positively or negatively.
There is no getting away from vacuum cleaners as it "so happens"; a the gym they had two of them in operation, one at each end of the room for a stereo effect. The cover story for one of them was the dismantling and cleaning of a treadmill machine, and the usual pinching of aisleway access, something that is becoming more frequent wherever I go.
The red-haired woman made sure to precede me out the door, just slipping through to cause the door and door jamb pass within an inch of either side of her while moving through the doorway. This close "tolerance" doorway egress trick has been observed before on elevator doors where the operative slips through, contacting the rubber edges, but without triggering an opening of the doors again. The red-haired woman ducked out to the left and walked between the adjacent workout machines instead of taking the usual narrow pathway to the main aisle. For someone who was new there, she knew her way around. So I took the expectable and normal 6' path, and lo, if there wasn't a brown cardboard box located in the middle of this all-too narrow path.
This is the new normal, just like the stocking carts and the grocery store, there is almost always one on any visit, and before the intensified overt harassment began, it was a rarity. And it does not matter which store I visit, there is a city-wide "eruption" of stocking carts wherever I shop, and always with a considerable flattened stack of brown cardboard boxes on or beside it. Invariably, the stocking assistant is in "bend-over" mode, a position that seems to offer optimum energetic interaction, stretching the spine. And it should be noted for new readers that the color brown causes the perps no end of obsession, and they make my life a living hell for whatever they are attempting to do or use with this color. In my opinion, the perps are totally obsessed over all colors of substances and organs in the human body, and the color brown appears to be the most problematic for them, which I suspect relates to their blundering intrusions when I was toilet training, about 1956 or so.
Much of the perp activity related to colors is the placement of one in front of another; they harass the hell out of me making peanut butter and jam on toast every morning, and frequently move one gangstalker in front of another, partially at first, then entirely, to determine the energetic color interaction with me. They do the same for vehicles, hence the coordinated colors, often using white, black and silver-grey as reference colors behind the red, green, brown, orange or other colors they are attempting to experiment with at that moment.
And I couldn't help but notice another drilling in the street today; I am no civil engineer, but the perps have demolished, and are installing a new gasoline fuelling station at this one location where two one way streets join to become a two way street. This is on my walking route to the gym, and today, in the center left lane they had a soil drill, which looked to be about to drill a 4" hole. When I came back, the 8' drill bit was laid horizontal on the ground, and I assume that the drilling had been completed. I have no idea what the apparent need was, but this "event" type has followed me over two cities, and about every six months or so, another drill hole "happens" in my proximity, even if only walking past.
There is still more street digging only a block from my residence location to deal with a 5' rise in the street, and supposedly, an undrained bog lies below. This looks to be at least two more weeks, and it seems the perps like to have large quantities of 30" green PVC storm drain pipe stored nearby (me) for as long as possible.
The overhead pounding has started up, and is sounding each time I type up the noisestalked words of the day. One cannot get more precise than that in timing noise to my actions or thoughts, so what could it be and how do they know? Simple; it is called remote neural monitoring, and has a long documented history here.
1950h
The predominant noise for the past 40 minutes has been faint shouts and vocalizations with coordinated cheering, overhead thumping and church bells, this being practice night. The first two may well be projected sound, but the bells are for real, and there is nothing the perps like better than to have vibrations set up around me. I wanted to block the faint noise with the earmuffs, but this became problematic when a rumbling noise was ported into the earmuffs, and then the perps pinged on the sprung earmuff's headband to further piss me off. Perhaps a music CD instead, though they haven't finished thumping overhead. And to be clear, it is a concrete floor/ceiling 12 storey building and yet has all the noise of being in wood framed warehouse with someone puposely making noise for its own sake.
2230h
Now whining of the putative "neighbor's" water usage, though in fact it seemed to be a ruse to have me close the bathroom door, being brown colored of course.
Time to call this done for the day, and blog off.
Not soon enough; as I was putting the link in to the perp's brown color problem, the assholes pounded overhead and gave me a simultaneous zapping, a sure fire piss off, and one that they screw me into screaming about everytime. Fucking sick and cowardly, and all they do is jerk people's lives around who are totally innocent and do not deserve this treatment whatsoever. And that is the real problem, the assholes won't front themselves, but remain hidden to apply their nonconsensual human experimentation games. And yet they arrange my entire life, and a cast of over 10,000 to keep jerking me around.
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Noisestalked words du jour: targeted, noisestalk, me
Saturday, June 02, 2007
An Odd Noise Downturn
1040h
Weekends are usually the time when the perp's second tier assholes get their licks, and it almost invariably worse than the weekday 9 to 5 crowd. This being a Saturday, I expected worse, and just to confound expectations (what they do all the time), they have backed of on the full noise assaults. Today, so far, it is "only" the absurd swishing of road traffic as if on a freeway, when in fact is is a pokey two lane section outside, with traffic controls each 120' or so. There is other associated traffic noise, but nothing like the nonstop grind of heavy duty vehicles, buses, two cycle engine motorcycle noise, loud mufflered vehicles in profusion and the rest of it. Very strange.
The maser action is continuous, and abiding, especially when shaving, as they sit on or over my face and the razor strokes right through them. "Ordinarily", the masers emanate from my face toward the mirror and then dissapate. A big deal for the small minds that keep this relentless cowardice going, as if that trait were bred into their DNA, along with the propensity for being a sick minded jerk. There is a huge employment opportunity for this mindset, and the best of it is that one needn't disguise the fact, as it is my contention that the perps can get a decent character analysis of anyone of their choosing by remotely evaluating their brain function and related energetics. I have often wondered how sometimes fellow psychopaths "find" each other, to then go onto exponentially worse escapades, and it seems likely, that it isn't such a coincidence at all. Not when for some targeted individuals, when nothing has been a coincidence since birth, and that I have a battalion of sickos running at 24/7, managing every aspect of my existence. Right down to the brown colored crumbs that erupt overnight, and are positioned to provide some kind of color reference in locations that are widely different than that color. (Today, a 1/2" brown crumb arrived under the table, and after I had eaten brown peanut butter, with brown coffee, only then was I allowed to notice it).
1620h
The noise downturn didn't last long, and it sprung back to the normal appalling levels after I made a local half block trip to the LD store. And just for that, an entire freakshow was arranged.
As I am writing this, a whole round of street shouting has started up, along with hallway noise, outside vehicle noise, and the erstwhile fridge noises, which has a repetoire of at least a dozen noise variants.
I am coming off an afternoon nap, not needing one in the first place, and I suspect the following tea and chocolate time was also arranged. As the perps have a huge interest as to what color of clothing I wear, and that of their operatives who are coursing around me, aka gangstalking, and as well as vehicles, mobile and parked. I was lying for an hour on my bedspread, which is predominantly yellow, over a navy blue futon matress. This is at least the fourth forced nap in a month, and normally I don't need one at all, especially when I get at least an hour of extra sleep each night.
There were three of them in the elevator with me, which is rare, as to date, there rarely is someone joining me in the elevator. All were in the under 25 y.o. demographic, one of greater gangstalking significance of late, though I have no reason as to why.
Anyhow, back to this morning's freakshow at LD. After the elevator accompaniment, I got a few weirds enroute to the store; one was a seen-before female stalker, who looks suspiciously like one of my forestry classmates of my UBC 1979 class. So far, I have indentified at least eight of the fuckers on gangstalking duty, and I assume the fuckers are full time operatives. She was putting on a show of clutching the brown painted steel hand rail, as if she was physically unable to negotiate the stairs without assistance.
Then another fucker was coming down the stairs straight at me in some kind of crabbed style, where his body was skewed from the normal front-on position to stairs descending. This fucker was in a red shirt and a black leather vest, the latter item's fabric being one of the most favored for ambulatory gangstalking. And this fucker took pains to cross my track as I ascended the stairs, but no big deal.
I went to the dental hygeine area for mouthwash, a section some 12' long, and at the far end was a gangstalker posted exactly opposite where I got my usual brand and color. Once I reached down, the fucker took off.
Then onto birthday cards, as my daughter's birthday is coming up soon, and I do loathe this process as I can rarely find what I want in short order. As I was looking, the perps put a show of freaks passing behind me every minute or so; a grey ponytailed male with no chin did a pass by and then a reverse to come behind me again, a geriatric woman in a bright red coat (way to overdressed), an Asian man in a navy blue parking enforcement uniform and a peak cap, a male in grey clothing with a red ball cap, and a few more that I cannot recall.
I went to the checkout, and the male with the red ball cap was ahead of me, and I then decided to get a newspaper from the opposite stand. Lo, if there wasn't a fucker standing exactly in front of the stack I wanted. Anyhow, I paid with a $50 bill, orange colored, and one that has been in my wallet for a month or so. This became a big deal, as it had to be checked, and the cashier put out a call for change. Then, as if by magic, a woman in the same color of orange came through the nearby entrance, and passed behind me. There were at least four more gangstalkers coursing by me as I waited, and the cashier attended to the next person in line. Then two more "staff" came by to ask the cashier someting, these serving as some kind of expectation fake-out. Finally I get my change, but not before the orange dressed woman was in the checkout line, some 10' away. Anyhow, I got out of there and encountered a few more of the assholes before retreating to my apartment.
I passed by a section of parked cars where there were six grey colored vehicles in the center, a black and a white colored vehicle at opposite ends, and dark green colored vehicle at each end, next to the black or white vehicle. It is simply amazing how much effort goes into arrangements around me.
Once I began reading the newspaper, there were plentiful more orange colored ads and pictures, but that is how it goes. It was an orange themed innudation morning, with some black, white and grey dressed fuckers enroute as well, I reckon these are for color referencing purposes.
I am back to web surfing for the remainder of the afternoon, and I can now vouch for the fact that the usual excessive and amplified noisescape has been applied for the rest of the day so far. And the maser and plasma action has been at the usual intrusive level, And as I typed that using the "m" and the "p" words, the loud "performance" noisy engine and tire chirping noise erupted, to be followed by a siren.
The perps like me to use the terms that they use to describe their phenomenon, and then situationally noisestalk me when I use those same terms. And related to that, they also like me to see pictures of copper (the metal) and wire (as a stereo system component), which I assume is integral in fucking their victims' lives over, as very likely these are the elemental components that deliver their irradiative fuckery in all its aspects.
2120h
More forehead numbing irradiations, never to my liking. And the fuckers like to tension or press upon the tops of my feet for some reason.
"Someone" blatantly started the faucet in the bathroom running, and as "I" put on my earmuffs to block the first instances of noise, the perps kept the water running the entire time, some 30 minutes or so. Thank goodness I don't pay for water here, as the fuckover stunts over excess electricity usage will be quite enough.
The usual noise flurries, and vision impairment games tonight. And in repairing broken links, I found that "someone" had inserted a mispelling in the link title, and then fucked me out of knowing that, when reading it.
That is another loss in freedom; I am not always allowed to read what is actually printed; the meaning and spelling can be fucked with to arrive at a totally illogical conclusion. And when I trap these errors, the noises go off again, noisestalking me over this capability.
2235h
I see that my inbox counter for my yahoo email has been increased from 3 to 4, even no actual emails were recieved to bump it up by one. And as part of this, the fact that I have 3 unread emails in my inbox is incorrect, and yet this counter cannot be fixed, and there are no seeming unread emails. Some time ago, in the days of the pre-Windows computers, we had email at work, and the same thing would go on there; the counter "somehow" got out of sync with the unread inbox emails. Nothing new in other words, just a juvenile prank that is way too tired.
Anyhow, I am getting fucked over for typos again, and the maser zingers are bouncing around in my visual field, and other vision fucking is also coming on. Which is my way of indicating that it it time to blog off.
Weekends are usually the time when the perp's second tier assholes get their licks, and it almost invariably worse than the weekday 9 to 5 crowd. This being a Saturday, I expected worse, and just to confound expectations (what they do all the time), they have backed of on the full noise assaults. Today, so far, it is "only" the absurd swishing of road traffic as if on a freeway, when in fact is is a pokey two lane section outside, with traffic controls each 120' or so. There is other associated traffic noise, but nothing like the nonstop grind of heavy duty vehicles, buses, two cycle engine motorcycle noise, loud mufflered vehicles in profusion and the rest of it. Very strange.
The maser action is continuous, and abiding, especially when shaving, as they sit on or over my face and the razor strokes right through them. "Ordinarily", the masers emanate from my face toward the mirror and then dissapate. A big deal for the small minds that keep this relentless cowardice going, as if that trait were bred into their DNA, along with the propensity for being a sick minded jerk. There is a huge employment opportunity for this mindset, and the best of it is that one needn't disguise the fact, as it is my contention that the perps can get a decent character analysis of anyone of their choosing by remotely evaluating their brain function and related energetics. I have often wondered how sometimes fellow psychopaths "find" each other, to then go onto exponentially worse escapades, and it seems likely, that it isn't such a coincidence at all. Not when for some targeted individuals, when nothing has been a coincidence since birth, and that I have a battalion of sickos running at 24/7, managing every aspect of my existence. Right down to the brown colored crumbs that erupt overnight, and are positioned to provide some kind of color reference in locations that are widely different than that color. (Today, a 1/2" brown crumb arrived under the table, and after I had eaten brown peanut butter, with brown coffee, only then was I allowed to notice it).
1620h
The noise downturn didn't last long, and it sprung back to the normal appalling levels after I made a local half block trip to the LD store. And just for that, an entire freakshow was arranged.
As I am writing this, a whole round of street shouting has started up, along with hallway noise, outside vehicle noise, and the erstwhile fridge noises, which has a repetoire of at least a dozen noise variants.
I am coming off an afternoon nap, not needing one in the first place, and I suspect the following tea and chocolate time was also arranged. As the perps have a huge interest as to what color of clothing I wear, and that of their operatives who are coursing around me, aka gangstalking, and as well as vehicles, mobile and parked. I was lying for an hour on my bedspread, which is predominantly yellow, over a navy blue futon matress. This is at least the fourth forced nap in a month, and normally I don't need one at all, especially when I get at least an hour of extra sleep each night.
There were three of them in the elevator with me, which is rare, as to date, there rarely is someone joining me in the elevator. All were in the under 25 y.o. demographic, one of greater gangstalking significance of late, though I have no reason as to why.
Anyhow, back to this morning's freakshow at LD. After the elevator accompaniment, I got a few weirds enroute to the store; one was a seen-before female stalker, who looks suspiciously like one of my forestry classmates of my UBC 1979 class. So far, I have indentified at least eight of the fuckers on gangstalking duty, and I assume the fuckers are full time operatives. She was putting on a show of clutching the brown painted steel hand rail, as if she was physically unable to negotiate the stairs without assistance.
Then another fucker was coming down the stairs straight at me in some kind of crabbed style, where his body was skewed from the normal front-on position to stairs descending. This fucker was in a red shirt and a black leather vest, the latter item's fabric being one of the most favored for ambulatory gangstalking. And this fucker took pains to cross my track as I ascended the stairs, but no big deal.
I went to the dental hygeine area for mouthwash, a section some 12' long, and at the far end was a gangstalker posted exactly opposite where I got my usual brand and color. Once I reached down, the fucker took off.
Then onto birthday cards, as my daughter's birthday is coming up soon, and I do loathe this process as I can rarely find what I want in short order. As I was looking, the perps put a show of freaks passing behind me every minute or so; a grey ponytailed male with no chin did a pass by and then a reverse to come behind me again, a geriatric woman in a bright red coat (way to overdressed), an Asian man in a navy blue parking enforcement uniform and a peak cap, a male in grey clothing with a red ball cap, and a few more that I cannot recall.
I went to the checkout, and the male with the red ball cap was ahead of me, and I then decided to get a newspaper from the opposite stand. Lo, if there wasn't a fucker standing exactly in front of the stack I wanted. Anyhow, I paid with a $50 bill, orange colored, and one that has been in my wallet for a month or so. This became a big deal, as it had to be checked, and the cashier put out a call for change. Then, as if by magic, a woman in the same color of orange came through the nearby entrance, and passed behind me. There were at least four more gangstalkers coursing by me as I waited, and the cashier attended to the next person in line. Then two more "staff" came by to ask the cashier someting, these serving as some kind of expectation fake-out. Finally I get my change, but not before the orange dressed woman was in the checkout line, some 10' away. Anyhow, I got out of there and encountered a few more of the assholes before retreating to my apartment.
I passed by a section of parked cars where there were six grey colored vehicles in the center, a black and a white colored vehicle at opposite ends, and dark green colored vehicle at each end, next to the black or white vehicle. It is simply amazing how much effort goes into arrangements around me.
Once I began reading the newspaper, there were plentiful more orange colored ads and pictures, but that is how it goes. It was an orange themed innudation morning, with some black, white and grey dressed fuckers enroute as well, I reckon these are for color referencing purposes.
I am back to web surfing for the remainder of the afternoon, and I can now vouch for the fact that the usual excessive and amplified noisescape has been applied for the rest of the day so far. And the maser and plasma action has been at the usual intrusive level, And as I typed that using the "m" and the "p" words, the loud "performance" noisy engine and tire chirping noise erupted, to be followed by a siren.
The perps like me to use the terms that they use to describe their phenomenon, and then situationally noisestalk me when I use those same terms. And related to that, they also like me to see pictures of copper (the metal) and wire (as a stereo system component), which I assume is integral in fucking their victims' lives over, as very likely these are the elemental components that deliver their irradiative fuckery in all its aspects.
2120h
More forehead numbing irradiations, never to my liking. And the fuckers like to tension or press upon the tops of my feet for some reason.
"Someone" blatantly started the faucet in the bathroom running, and as "I" put on my earmuffs to block the first instances of noise, the perps kept the water running the entire time, some 30 minutes or so. Thank goodness I don't pay for water here, as the fuckover stunts over excess electricity usage will be quite enough.
The usual noise flurries, and vision impairment games tonight. And in repairing broken links, I found that "someone" had inserted a mispelling in the link title, and then fucked me out of knowing that, when reading it.
That is another loss in freedom; I am not always allowed to read what is actually printed; the meaning and spelling can be fucked with to arrive at a totally illogical conclusion. And when I trap these errors, the noises go off again, noisestalking me over this capability.
2235h
I see that my inbox counter for my yahoo email has been increased from 3 to 4, even no actual emails were recieved to bump it up by one. And as part of this, the fact that I have 3 unread emails in my inbox is incorrect, and yet this counter cannot be fixed, and there are no seeming unread emails. Some time ago, in the days of the pre-Windows computers, we had email at work, and the same thing would go on there; the counter "somehow" got out of sync with the unread inbox emails. Nothing new in other words, just a juvenile prank that is way too tired.
Anyhow, I am getting fucked over for typos again, and the maser zingers are bouncing around in my visual field, and other vision fucking is also coming on. Which is my way of indicating that it it time to blog off.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Recent Advances in Mind Control of Temporal Awareness
1125h
Another case of longtime habit disruption/cum mind-fucking. I "somehow forgot" to shave the mustache portion of my face today, again, something that has happened only since the harassment started up, and about two years ago when they could first fuck me out of this part of my daily routine.
A five minute trip to LD for toothpaste only turned into a nonstop freak show from begining to end. It all began when I had just readied myself to go out and my in-town brother "happened" to call about moving the last of my belongings from his place. That necessitated a call to the building manager to unlock the storage area before I headed out the door. Regular readers will know the the microphone pickup of the phone serves as a surveillance device, as do all sensors, in remotely assaying one's energetic activity (both mind and body scalar energies, IMHO).
And while talking to my brother, "I" (as in mind-fucked me) mixed up the words 'yesterday' and 'today', which has never happened before, proof to me of mind control or else a severe clinical impairment that the doctor chooses to ignore, take your pick. I did not "notice" that I made this "mistake" until my brother pointed it out to me. This mind-fucking at this level is a new advancement and may well represent an increase of the perp's ability to fuck my speech and syntax in greater degree than ever before.
The theme of the perp stunts for the short shopping trip to LD was white and blue colored clothing; all white, white pants, white hat and same color sweater as my teal blue vest, white and black. And also, the mid blue of jeans, with a shift to light blue clothing when in the LD store. Listing the constant gangstalk freakshow events in bullet form:
My brother came to drop off the last of my belongings that are stored at his place; he stretched this out to arrive at the time I would ordinarily be making lunch, to extend my gangstalking exposure time without having a recent meal (only breakfast since 0830h).
And as it so happened, some of the more useful items came in this load, two garbage cans, the toilet cleaning brush and the almighty plunger, the most needed item of in dealing with the shit games the perps keep planting on me, as past blogs have detailed.
Moving the belongings from his van to the the door was the usual gangstalked event; one of the fuckers was in a white varsity type jacket with white leather arms and a dark blue torso portion. He was firstly on his cell phone outside the building, and then joined us later for a ride in the elevator. The children from the putative daycare on this floor were in the hallway sleeping in their stroller, and later, the daycare operator was walking the same stroller outside near us unloading boxes. And by dint of fluke, related to the current perp innudation of the color orange everywhere, the child's blanket was orange, and it was clear I was to see it in the hallway under artificial lighting conditions, and then again in daylight. Other shiftless males walked by, and then reversed direction within a few minutes to come from the opposite direction, especially the brown skinned dude with his mouth hanging open.
As I was busy humphing boxes, I cannot recall all the gangstalking action that was coursing about, but I did note that my brother parked beside the curb gutter puddle again, the only instance of a puddle within many blocks, as the water was not sourced from any recent rain. Fortuneately, there were no puddle dumping games, even if we had to work over top of it, as he parked further away from the curb this time.
Then after moving the boxes into my apartment, my brother has a "sudden" liking to my office chair, and uses this as an excuse to sit in and try it out. Of course he passed on the offering of an identical free chair last week, as he took it to the local charity for me. This was a feint for him in his brown coat to sit in it and provide the sickos with some brown color energetics assay possibilities as I don't have such a colored garment. He also go into his sunglasses again for no reason, as he was in the shade or inside the building. It is the second time he has put on shades midway through moving my items to my apartment. Naturally, he was evasive as to why he put them on, and had them slipped down his nose for the elevator trip up. The operatives wearing shades even on rainy days is nothing new, all part of the sick minded freak show that the assholes have cast me into.
The unpacking of boxes is also an excuse for the perps to put things back in that they have stolen previously. And it so "happened", that the fuckers who stole my car speakers and CD deck from my parents' place only the week before I wanted them installed in readying my vehicle for turnover to my daughter, put these items in my boxes. There was no way any kind of mistake was made, and my mother was "attempting" to understand how these items went missing from her house at the time.
Related to this, the installation of these items could be a birthday present for my daughter who is now driving the vehicle. And her birthday is three weeks hence.
And part of the arrangement in my sorting through my belongings is that I truck the unwanted items to the charity a half block down the street. I made three trips to accomplish this, and there were perps and gangstalkers all over me each time, trying out new colors of clothing, and vehicles passing by in the street, just ahead of me crossing it.
And the gate to the charity was closed, but a woman in crimson red, down to her tights, was on duty (more like, was arranged to be there), and I called out if they wanted three loads of items, and she walked the 40' of driveway to let me in. I saw this as another case of slow distance dependent testing of a person in red, as other red garment shows came on in the elevator, as well as five at a glance deep metallic red vehicles posted nearby. Anyhow, I got all the moving done; tossing out a whole lot of stuff, and keeping books that are germane to this ongoing harassment fuckery.
As part of that, some "new" books also showed up in the boxes, and they might well be perp planted. Because they can now fuck with my recall at will, I cannot be absolutely sure if I purchased them or not. That will make for some reading material on hand, but the same provisio may apply, I won't be able to understand the contents thanks to the perp sickos who have impaired my learning abilities since birth. This has been documented since 1960, and also in 1998. Though, I also suspect that they dynamically fuck with what I learn in realtime, as the number of "don't get it" episodes has gone up since they began their overt harassment in 2002.
As part of the moving boxes to the charity or my storage locker exercise, one of the elevators was shut down, and this served as a reason to pack the elevators with more gangstalkers and for longer wait times. Also, the elevator serviceman come by for two gangstalkings, which might relate to the fact that he was at the bottom of one of the elevator shafts for energetics interaction. He was dressed in a "safe" color, navy blue.
The sickos were also trying out less favored colors on me. I mentioned the lady in all red above, but they also packed the elevators with two operatives wearing the same shirt color, burgundy red, appearing to be separate parties. On my last trip outside to donate my belongings, they put a woman in a red leather jacket some 60' ahead of me.
Before that, a blonde man in a varsity like jacket of white leather arms and a navy blue wool torso portion was hanging around on sentry duty outside the apartment building on his cell phone. He then disappeared for one box load into the building, and then "showed" up in the elevator beside me. This may have attempted to leverage their earlier games with white and blue on the earlier trip to the LD store, per above. By my estimation, the perps are sucking wind bigtime in getting their colors, gangstalking genders and the rest of their vile energetics fuckery quantified. This doesn't stop them, they just keep fucking me around all the more; five years of this and counting.
1940h
The typo fuckery has been increased of late; sometimes the perps have me go through four attempts to spell a given word, enough to rile me up and vocalize my complaint.
And the overhead hyperactivity has started up; the rumbling noise that purports to be the sliding glass door. Not so, it is directly overhead when it should be 8' away, the constant use belies any normal "resident" behavior, and lastly, it would not come through anywhere as near as loud through concrete floors/ceilings. It is another projected noise from the endless database of the perps and their thankless jerkaround that continues.
Last night they got into unabashed needle like jabbings; while taking a pee, the fuckers jabbed me in the leg for no reason. A few minutes later I changed out of my clothes, and when horizontal in bed, the fuckers jabbed me in the same place on my leg. As best as I know, that is a blatant pain to neural energetics test in the vertical, and then the prone position, a fishing expedition looking for the neural energetics correlates of the two positions, along with correlating that to the urine they would of been assaying also. It never ends; this thankless sadism after being covertly fucked with for 47 years. Now I am getting masered in the eyes again, as they attempt to bring their fuzzy zingers to follow my central vision.
2000h
Another outbreak of hyperactive rumbling overhead was started as I was reviewing my journalling above; the fuckers go hyperactive when I am editing my work. Any noise that is vogue will do, no matter the apparent absurdity of the cover story, even if there is one.
I am still pissed the perps won't let me bend down the way I want to, which is always at the knees, and not at the waist as all their fucking operatives and gangstalkers do. Only after three weeks in this apartment did they even let me be aware of my own habits, never mind the clumsy and stupid manner in reaching down that they have imposed upon me. I reckon this planted "awareness" is to create more friction and annoyance more than anything. The trick of letting me in on how I am being fucked with, so to have me vocalize more.
More overhead rumbling as the absurdity of this projected noise without a plausible cover story continues. Now a car alarm has started up, and I get at least one per day now.
There has been an increase in the number of red plasma flashings of late; they will plant them anytime I close my eyes or blink, but of late they have been putting them in my peripherial vision either as an augmentation of the color of an object similarly colored, or else a blatant "in my face" blast of red. Yesterday there were more red flashings sitting in front of me sitting above the sidewalk. In the past, they have bombarded me with red plasma flashings, and it is extremely disorientating. While walking in dappled shade, the perps also put on red flashes in a stroboscopic manner, as if this were "normal" passing through light and shade.
2225h
After doing some Bookmarks broken link maintenance, the perps decided to crank up the vision impairment fuckery in both eyes, so that was the end of the noble effort. There is a decided interation of the noise events; the overhead rumbling, the loud motorcycles trailing off into the distance, the bus noises (now louder, and with a turbo whine), glass bashing, and then it repeats again, likely culminating in the vison fucking to end my activity for the day.
Time to call this a posting and blog off, and pardon the typos and other syntax problems, as I am being mind-fucked out of editing my work.
Another case of longtime habit disruption/cum mind-fucking. I "somehow forgot" to shave the mustache portion of my face today, again, something that has happened only since the harassment started up, and about two years ago when they could first fuck me out of this part of my daily routine.
A five minute trip to LD for toothpaste only turned into a nonstop freak show from begining to end. It all began when I had just readied myself to go out and my in-town brother "happened" to call about moving the last of my belongings from his place. That necessitated a call to the building manager to unlock the storage area before I headed out the door. Regular readers will know the the microphone pickup of the phone serves as a surveillance device, as do all sensors, in remotely assaying one's energetic activity (both mind and body scalar energies, IMHO).
And while talking to my brother, "I" (as in mind-fucked me) mixed up the words 'yesterday' and 'today', which has never happened before, proof to me of mind control or else a severe clinical impairment that the doctor chooses to ignore, take your pick. I did not "notice" that I made this "mistake" until my brother pointed it out to me. This mind-fucking at this level is a new advancement and may well represent an increase of the perp's ability to fuck my speech and syntax in greater degree than ever before.
The theme of the perp stunts for the short shopping trip to LD was white and blue colored clothing; all white, white pants, white hat and same color sweater as my teal blue vest, white and black. And also, the mid blue of jeans, with a shift to light blue clothing when in the LD store. Listing the constant gangstalk freakshow events in bullet form:
- a palette jack gangstalk, the operative crossing the street on a no walk signal with a palette jack in tow, and then turning 90 degrees and crossing the same street I was, paralleling me, he crossing behind a silver grey Volvo wagon at the traffic light,
- the male buddy act, both in late 50's with white hair, bumping into each other and almost holding hands passing me, yet again, at a sidewalk constriction,
- a "just sitting there" (sentry duty) dude all in jeans wear opposite a constriction in the sidewalk where his deep red metallic red bicycle was located with his same colored helmet,
- a "just standing there" act at the top of the stairs, this 50 y.o. dude in the same blue clothing, but not jeans wear, and not even the cigarette break cover story,
- three MIW, men in white, the "staff" of a new bakery that is next to a supermarket (unbelievably), three of them, loosely clustered outside their store to force me to walk between them,
- two more gangstalkers ahead of me, one with a same colored sweater as my teal vest,
- two more gangstalkers erupted from the LD store, seemingly together, one in a wheelchair, representational of the handicapped demographic,
- a white haired male in a light blue color dress shirt and a large gut (aka fat guy) which was seen in profile schleps in ahead of me, then he slows down in the entry area to "peruse" the newspapers,
- two more "staff" come at me as I am on my way to get toothpaste, one wearing the same light blue colored dress shirt as the fat guy,
- at least two more faux customer gangstalkers pop out from behind a pillar as I am on my way to the checkout,
- at the check out the fat guy (above) in a light blue shirt is still at the newspapers, putting on the bend-over act in "deciding" which newspaper to select,
- another light blue shirted male staff member cruises by, 8' away, while still in the checkout line,
- a large woman in black sneaks up behind me to putz with the magazines 2' from me, also doing a bend-over behind me, as an ostensible staff member, though not in blue,
- as I finish up at the checkout I get a "customer" standing in my way, and I get zoned out on dealing with my change from a $20, one of which is a $5 bill, also in light blue
- I get out of the store and there is a large woman in brown clothing on the cell phone blocking egress,
- another elderly woman (a certified demographic) gangstalker comes at me to then arrive in a walkway constriction point where a manekin is placed on a chair outside a clothing store
- then the non-jeans wearing but same color of blue dude on sentry duty (above) has decided to gangstalk me at the corner,
- the wheelchair and "friend" act (above) who should of been long gone as they exited the LD store when I entered are putzing about on the walkway, and appear to be engaged in some mindless stunt, all smiles,
- once I get near my apartment, a male with the mental and physical handicap act "happens" to be entering the door ahead of me, ("meeting" there for the third time in as many weeks), wearing the hated white pants with a black colored coat on (an open-mouther act too),
- there were a few more freaks enroute, and in the LD store, and I cannot recall the remainder.
My brother came to drop off the last of my belongings that are stored at his place; he stretched this out to arrive at the time I would ordinarily be making lunch, to extend my gangstalking exposure time without having a recent meal (only breakfast since 0830h).
And as it so happened, some of the more useful items came in this load, two garbage cans, the toilet cleaning brush and the almighty plunger, the most needed item of in dealing with the shit games the perps keep planting on me, as past blogs have detailed.
Moving the belongings from his van to the the door was the usual gangstalked event; one of the fuckers was in a white varsity type jacket with white leather arms and a dark blue torso portion. He was firstly on his cell phone outside the building, and then joined us later for a ride in the elevator. The children from the putative daycare on this floor were in the hallway sleeping in their stroller, and later, the daycare operator was walking the same stroller outside near us unloading boxes. And by dint of fluke, related to the current perp innudation of the color orange everywhere, the child's blanket was orange, and it was clear I was to see it in the hallway under artificial lighting conditions, and then again in daylight. Other shiftless males walked by, and then reversed direction within a few minutes to come from the opposite direction, especially the brown skinned dude with his mouth hanging open.
As I was busy humphing boxes, I cannot recall all the gangstalking action that was coursing about, but I did note that my brother parked beside the curb gutter puddle again, the only instance of a puddle within many blocks, as the water was not sourced from any recent rain. Fortuneately, there were no puddle dumping games, even if we had to work over top of it, as he parked further away from the curb this time.
Then after moving the boxes into my apartment, my brother has a "sudden" liking to my office chair, and uses this as an excuse to sit in and try it out. Of course he passed on the offering of an identical free chair last week, as he took it to the local charity for me. This was a feint for him in his brown coat to sit in it and provide the sickos with some brown color energetics assay possibilities as I don't have such a colored garment. He also go into his sunglasses again for no reason, as he was in the shade or inside the building. It is the second time he has put on shades midway through moving my items to my apartment. Naturally, he was evasive as to why he put them on, and had them slipped down his nose for the elevator trip up. The operatives wearing shades even on rainy days is nothing new, all part of the sick minded freak show that the assholes have cast me into.
The unpacking of boxes is also an excuse for the perps to put things back in that they have stolen previously. And it so "happened", that the fuckers who stole my car speakers and CD deck from my parents' place only the week before I wanted them installed in readying my vehicle for turnover to my daughter, put these items in my boxes. There was no way any kind of mistake was made, and my mother was "attempting" to understand how these items went missing from her house at the time.
Related to this, the installation of these items could be a birthday present for my daughter who is now driving the vehicle. And her birthday is three weeks hence.
And part of the arrangement in my sorting through my belongings is that I truck the unwanted items to the charity a half block down the street. I made three trips to accomplish this, and there were perps and gangstalkers all over me each time, trying out new colors of clothing, and vehicles passing by in the street, just ahead of me crossing it.
And the gate to the charity was closed, but a woman in crimson red, down to her tights, was on duty (more like, was arranged to be there), and I called out if they wanted three loads of items, and she walked the 40' of driveway to let me in. I saw this as another case of slow distance dependent testing of a person in red, as other red garment shows came on in the elevator, as well as five at a glance deep metallic red vehicles posted nearby. Anyhow, I got all the moving done; tossing out a whole lot of stuff, and keeping books that are germane to this ongoing harassment fuckery.
As part of that, some "new" books also showed up in the boxes, and they might well be perp planted. Because they can now fuck with my recall at will, I cannot be absolutely sure if I purchased them or not. That will make for some reading material on hand, but the same provisio may apply, I won't be able to understand the contents thanks to the perp sickos who have impaired my learning abilities since birth. This has been documented since 1960, and also in 1998. Though, I also suspect that they dynamically fuck with what I learn in realtime, as the number of "don't get it" episodes has gone up since they began their overt harassment in 2002.
As part of the moving boxes to the charity or my storage locker exercise, one of the elevators was shut down, and this served as a reason to pack the elevators with more gangstalkers and for longer wait times. Also, the elevator serviceman come by for two gangstalkings, which might relate to the fact that he was at the bottom of one of the elevator shafts for energetics interaction. He was dressed in a "safe" color, navy blue.
The sickos were also trying out less favored colors on me. I mentioned the lady in all red above, but they also packed the elevators with two operatives wearing the same shirt color, burgundy red, appearing to be separate parties. On my last trip outside to donate my belongings, they put a woman in a red leather jacket some 60' ahead of me.
Before that, a blonde man in a varsity like jacket of white leather arms and a navy blue wool torso portion was hanging around on sentry duty outside the apartment building on his cell phone. He then disappeared for one box load into the building, and then "showed" up in the elevator beside me. This may have attempted to leverage their earlier games with white and blue on the earlier trip to the LD store, per above. By my estimation, the perps are sucking wind bigtime in getting their colors, gangstalking genders and the rest of their vile energetics fuckery quantified. This doesn't stop them, they just keep fucking me around all the more; five years of this and counting.
1940h
The typo fuckery has been increased of late; sometimes the perps have me go through four attempts to spell a given word, enough to rile me up and vocalize my complaint.
And the overhead hyperactivity has started up; the rumbling noise that purports to be the sliding glass door. Not so, it is directly overhead when it should be 8' away, the constant use belies any normal "resident" behavior, and lastly, it would not come through anywhere as near as loud through concrete floors/ceilings. It is another projected noise from the endless database of the perps and their thankless jerkaround that continues.
Last night they got into unabashed needle like jabbings; while taking a pee, the fuckers jabbed me in the leg for no reason. A few minutes later I changed out of my clothes, and when horizontal in bed, the fuckers jabbed me in the same place on my leg. As best as I know, that is a blatant pain to neural energetics test in the vertical, and then the prone position, a fishing expedition looking for the neural energetics correlates of the two positions, along with correlating that to the urine they would of been assaying also. It never ends; this thankless sadism after being covertly fucked with for 47 years. Now I am getting masered in the eyes again, as they attempt to bring their fuzzy zingers to follow my central vision.
2000h
Another outbreak of hyperactive rumbling overhead was started as I was reviewing my journalling above; the fuckers go hyperactive when I am editing my work. Any noise that is vogue will do, no matter the apparent absurdity of the cover story, even if there is one.
I am still pissed the perps won't let me bend down the way I want to, which is always at the knees, and not at the waist as all their fucking operatives and gangstalkers do. Only after three weeks in this apartment did they even let me be aware of my own habits, never mind the clumsy and stupid manner in reaching down that they have imposed upon me. I reckon this planted "awareness" is to create more friction and annoyance more than anything. The trick of letting me in on how I am being fucked with, so to have me vocalize more.
More overhead rumbling as the absurdity of this projected noise without a plausible cover story continues. Now a car alarm has started up, and I get at least one per day now.
There has been an increase in the number of red plasma flashings of late; they will plant them anytime I close my eyes or blink, but of late they have been putting them in my peripherial vision either as an augmentation of the color of an object similarly colored, or else a blatant "in my face" blast of red. Yesterday there were more red flashings sitting in front of me sitting above the sidewalk. In the past, they have bombarded me with red plasma flashings, and it is extremely disorientating. While walking in dappled shade, the perps also put on red flashes in a stroboscopic manner, as if this were "normal" passing through light and shade.
2225h
After doing some Bookmarks broken link maintenance, the perps decided to crank up the vision impairment fuckery in both eyes, so that was the end of the noble effort. There is a decided interation of the noise events; the overhead rumbling, the loud motorcycles trailing off into the distance, the bus noises (now louder, and with a turbo whine), glass bashing, and then it repeats again, likely culminating in the vison fucking to end my activity for the day.
Time to call this a posting and blog off, and pardon the typos and other syntax problems, as I am being mind-fucked out of editing my work.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Left Leg Jabbing
1245h
I have been getting the continued jabbing in my left calf as if a thorn was lodged in my jeans at that location. And no, it is too early to pick any blackberries, and I have not been amongst thorny plants. Besides which; no embedded causal thorn can be seen, and my leg is never red from the purported sensation of being jabbed and scratched. It is all remotely designed and applied, and is adroitly applied when I make a step, and my jean's left calf section touches my leg. And curiously, these are applied at high perp interest moments; the usual ones; doing the dishes, opening the door, and a few others that I am not allowed to recall.
Earlier, it was the inaugural Chicken Run for this new residence location, and it has a particular focus as the fuckers only have a two minute on-foot commute by which to exact their color games. I was just out of the front door when the fuckers had three brown dressed women going by or coming at me, one who went on to lead-ahead gangstalking, right to the front door of the grocery store. It was a white haired geriatric case dressed in an atrocious combination of a olive drab fleece vest and brown pants. Though I was wearing my teal blue vest, it is beside my olive drab (sort of) raincoat, and I find I get as many gangstalkers in both colors of late.
I suffered three more bright orange dressed or backpack wearing ambulatory gangstalkers before I got into the grocery store, and was lead-ahead inside gangstalked by the waddling male act. I don't know what it is, but just about half of all males that I see are waddling along, as if packing an extra 40 lbs up front when they aren't. This routine is familiar to me, as the fuckers planted an autistic, or autistic act, as an employee on me for my last year of in-town work before I went to Seattle, and this guy waddled all the time.
My in-store route was planned for me; the blonde women were blocking the olive oil (my supply has had an accelerated draw down for reasons only the perps would know), then the chocolate (none there, only the white (cocoa oil) kind), then the GF bread for which I was skunked again for the fourth time this week, and onto the cheese after bypassing the couple having an extended discussion at the hot chicken display. There were two more "staff" in white enroute to the cheese, one bent over the ubiquitous stocking cart with brown boxes, and another packing a 14" stack of orange cheese against his chest. Then back to the chicken counter where the debating couple act was still there, not even looking at the chicken, and then back to the olive oil section where the perps have my usual variety on the bottom of the display, with an unattended stocking cart with brown boxes on it placed oppositely. I then got a newspaper and then to the checkout where a particularly strange behaving operative was fucking about, almost in the line, then not, then in line ahead of me.
She had this grotesque orange sweater under a white coat, and did not put her few items on the checkout conveyor belt. Nor did she move ahead when her items were being checked out, but stood there, and with the arranged feints and cretin-like act, she draped herself over my hot chicken for at least a whole minute. After more gangstalking from the light yellow jacketed Asian woman who was nearly parked up my asshole, I finally got out of there, and got a bright orange shirted male gangstalker with a white and black do-rag on his head, now the official gangstalker male head adornment.
The I got a woman and two children act bounding about in the building's lobby. The kid with the brown hat on made a special effort to run in front of me while I was headed for the elevator controls, and the woman put on the stare-at-me act for no reason. (When she had no reason to be sitting in the lobby, as there are no apartments sized for families in this building).
One could conclude that brown and orange were the prominent gangstalking colors for the five minute trip to the grocery store and back, but there were also two light yellow wearing fuckers at the checkouts as well, and possibly one of the blondes was also dressed in this color. Anyhow, it was quite a lot to pack into that short time, and they made good use of it.
I also had a static display of vehicle sizing; a deep red metallic painted sedan at a metered parking stall, and a deep red metallic scooter parked immediately in front of it in the next stall (in file). As detailed in past blogs, the perps have some kind of research interest with the scale of everything I see, and this would be such a juxtaposition.
The perps have me on a >9 hours of sleep routine again, so it is back to the bad old days of the last residence location when this became the imposed minumum, save the odd time they kept me awake all night. The napping bullshit might be waived today as there is a Feral Family dinner at my in-town brother's, the guy they couldn't get a hold of only 30 minutes before that. Hard to believe that wasn't arranged, which is where they might of been yesterday, at rehearsals that they engage in beforehand. This I have surmised as the rest of the family always have a mysterious accounting of their time in advance of my out-of-town brother "officially" coming to town, not his likely morph-over games that he was tied to at the last putative rooming house location.
And in conforming to the imposed "normal", I now get people confabbing outside my door in the hallway; the rooming house "neighbor" behavior is being resurrected outside my door again, act by act. And also, the loud stereo again. The fuckers would not let my ear muffs block out the sounds, they came through unattenuated again.
The most pathetic stunt going, which the perps like me to react to, is their bad whistling routine. The "passer by", puts on an terrible whistling imitation. These can "erupt" at the checkout, on the street, on the bus, etc. They cannot get enough high frequency noise on me at all their desired locations it seems, so they have their ambulatory gangstalkers put on this act.
1425h
I am being zombied in some way; totally blanked out while I read online book reviews, and while the mouseclick stalking continues. That is, applying noise at the very instant I click my mouse to see a new display. It if fucking tiresome to be under this degree of scrutiny. Now the sirens have started up, and as soon as I noted that, some more clanging noise came on from overhead.
2200h
I am back from a Feral Family dinner at my in-town brother's place. In addition it was a "brown on brown" race based test for the perps. The in-town brother has a on-off native Indian girlfriend and she "happened" to be there when I arrived. She also had her three y.o grandaughter with her, and were putzing in the garden for the most part.
The child's mother arrived and so did my out-of-town brother, East Indian wife and two year old daughter with our parents. From what I could tell, this was a crossover of the two parties, before dinner. There was a native Indian woman, an East Indian woman and the remainder Caucasian, our immediate family, mother, father and three boys, me being the TI the rest of the assholes are chasing down and harassing. This meant the brown raced members were with us for dinner for the very first time, and it is mighty curious the perp assholes hadn't arranged this years ago.
And I noted that my out-of-town brother's light metallic brown vehicle was also parked further up the road so it could be seen from the dinner table, specifically by me as a third substantial brown object for the fuckers to reference to. Spatially, it sat between the two brown raced women as viewed from my assigned perch at the dinner table.
It was the usual roast beef dinner, the one he makes all the time, and one that seems to be perp mandated for color and content; everything is plain. My mother was beside me, and frequently blundered into me, the "accidentally on purpose" act which is so fucking tired, Then she began this on the couch afterward.
My neice played with all manner of plastic toys while we had dinner, and made sure there was the noise and the color of the plastic to go with it. She even brought this day-glo stuffed toy for me to see while dining, and then it was in my view from further away, likely as a color reference test. Later, she wrapped it up in a white towel to "put it to bed".
There were various other feints and games of aligning my niece with the native Indian woman, then the two brown race women together, and other combinations. They each played with a bright crimson red 3' long stuffed snake toy, flipping it about for perp red testing I assume. Other perp-helpful games were to have my neice bash away on a child's xylophone for noise and vibration creation, something near and dear to their sick souls.
I took the bus to my in-town brother's place and was promised a drive home. But, it "turned out" there was no room in the vehicle, something they would have figured out, and I was not allowed to point this out to them, but was mind-fucked into accepting the dodge of getting a cab home.
The cab came, and I did my goodbyes, except my out-of-town brother was missing. I went outside, and there both brothers were standing like sentries waiting for me to pass between them, with one red brakelight of the cab brightly illuminated between them. I have seen this before, where two gangstalkers combine to bound the featured object/gangstalker between them, and this was from that same playbook. So as I approached the cab, I moved to the side to foil this alignment, and then they moved in unison to attempt to maintain the lighted brakelight between them. Anyhow, I did my final goodbyes, and took the yellow colored cab back to my place. It was a Ford Escape Hybrid, and I must say, I was impressed that it could be run from electrical power off the line, and seamlessly switch to the gasoline engine almost noiselessly.
Anyhow, I was cast into the headspace of knowing what the most of the game was while it was unfolding, and I got my stare-at-the-freak acts from the cab driver and the woman who departed with her daughter before the dinner began. This is the third visitation of my out-of-town brother and family in four visits where I meet them for the first (and only this time), somewhere else other than my parent's place. I don't know quite what the deal is, but perhaps the perps are devising more difficulty in their setups.
05-13-2007
1040h
I got fucked out of posting this last night, and here it is, belatedly.
I have been getting the continued jabbing in my left calf as if a thorn was lodged in my jeans at that location. And no, it is too early to pick any blackberries, and I have not been amongst thorny plants. Besides which; no embedded causal thorn can be seen, and my leg is never red from the purported sensation of being jabbed and scratched. It is all remotely designed and applied, and is adroitly applied when I make a step, and my jean's left calf section touches my leg. And curiously, these are applied at high perp interest moments; the usual ones; doing the dishes, opening the door, and a few others that I am not allowed to recall.
Earlier, it was the inaugural Chicken Run for this new residence location, and it has a particular focus as the fuckers only have a two minute on-foot commute by which to exact their color games. I was just out of the front door when the fuckers had three brown dressed women going by or coming at me, one who went on to lead-ahead gangstalking, right to the front door of the grocery store. It was a white haired geriatric case dressed in an atrocious combination of a olive drab fleece vest and brown pants. Though I was wearing my teal blue vest, it is beside my olive drab (sort of) raincoat, and I find I get as many gangstalkers in both colors of late.
I suffered three more bright orange dressed or backpack wearing ambulatory gangstalkers before I got into the grocery store, and was lead-ahead inside gangstalked by the waddling male act. I don't know what it is, but just about half of all males that I see are waddling along, as if packing an extra 40 lbs up front when they aren't. This routine is familiar to me, as the fuckers planted an autistic, or autistic act, as an employee on me for my last year of in-town work before I went to Seattle, and this guy waddled all the time.
My in-store route was planned for me; the blonde women were blocking the olive oil (my supply has had an accelerated draw down for reasons only the perps would know), then the chocolate (none there, only the white (cocoa oil) kind), then the GF bread for which I was skunked again for the fourth time this week, and onto the cheese after bypassing the couple having an extended discussion at the hot chicken display. There were two more "staff" in white enroute to the cheese, one bent over the ubiquitous stocking cart with brown boxes, and another packing a 14" stack of orange cheese against his chest. Then back to the chicken counter where the debating couple act was still there, not even looking at the chicken, and then back to the olive oil section where the perps have my usual variety on the bottom of the display, with an unattended stocking cart with brown boxes on it placed oppositely. I then got a newspaper and then to the checkout where a particularly strange behaving operative was fucking about, almost in the line, then not, then in line ahead of me.
She had this grotesque orange sweater under a white coat, and did not put her few items on the checkout conveyor belt. Nor did she move ahead when her items were being checked out, but stood there, and with the arranged feints and cretin-like act, she draped herself over my hot chicken for at least a whole minute. After more gangstalking from the light yellow jacketed Asian woman who was nearly parked up my asshole, I finally got out of there, and got a bright orange shirted male gangstalker with a white and black do-rag on his head, now the official gangstalker male head adornment.
The I got a woman and two children act bounding about in the building's lobby. The kid with the brown hat on made a special effort to run in front of me while I was headed for the elevator controls, and the woman put on the stare-at-me act for no reason. (When she had no reason to be sitting in the lobby, as there are no apartments sized for families in this building).
One could conclude that brown and orange were the prominent gangstalking colors for the five minute trip to the grocery store and back, but there were also two light yellow wearing fuckers at the checkouts as well, and possibly one of the blondes was also dressed in this color. Anyhow, it was quite a lot to pack into that short time, and they made good use of it.
I also had a static display of vehicle sizing; a deep red metallic painted sedan at a metered parking stall, and a deep red metallic scooter parked immediately in front of it in the next stall (in file). As detailed in past blogs, the perps have some kind of research interest with the scale of everything I see, and this would be such a juxtaposition.
The perps have me on a >9 hours of sleep routine again, so it is back to the bad old days of the last residence location when this became the imposed minumum, save the odd time they kept me awake all night. The napping bullshit might be waived today as there is a Feral Family dinner at my in-town brother's, the guy they couldn't get a hold of only 30 minutes before that. Hard to believe that wasn't arranged, which is where they might of been yesterday, at rehearsals that they engage in beforehand. This I have surmised as the rest of the family always have a mysterious accounting of their time in advance of my out-of-town brother "officially" coming to town, not his likely morph-over games that he was tied to at the last putative rooming house location.
And in conforming to the imposed "normal", I now get people confabbing outside my door in the hallway; the rooming house "neighbor" behavior is being resurrected outside my door again, act by act. And also, the loud stereo again. The fuckers would not let my ear muffs block out the sounds, they came through unattenuated again.
The most pathetic stunt going, which the perps like me to react to, is their bad whistling routine. The "passer by", puts on an terrible whistling imitation. These can "erupt" at the checkout, on the street, on the bus, etc. They cannot get enough high frequency noise on me at all their desired locations it seems, so they have their ambulatory gangstalkers put on this act.
1425h
I am being zombied in some way; totally blanked out while I read online book reviews, and while the mouseclick stalking continues. That is, applying noise at the very instant I click my mouse to see a new display. It if fucking tiresome to be under this degree of scrutiny. Now the sirens have started up, and as soon as I noted that, some more clanging noise came on from overhead.
2200h
I am back from a Feral Family dinner at my in-town brother's place. In addition it was a "brown on brown" race based test for the perps. The in-town brother has a on-off native Indian girlfriend and she "happened" to be there when I arrived. She also had her three y.o grandaughter with her, and were putzing in the garden for the most part.
The child's mother arrived and so did my out-of-town brother, East Indian wife and two year old daughter with our parents. From what I could tell, this was a crossover of the two parties, before dinner. There was a native Indian woman, an East Indian woman and the remainder Caucasian, our immediate family, mother, father and three boys, me being the TI the rest of the assholes are chasing down and harassing. This meant the brown raced members were with us for dinner for the very first time, and it is mighty curious the perp assholes hadn't arranged this years ago.
And I noted that my out-of-town brother's light metallic brown vehicle was also parked further up the road so it could be seen from the dinner table, specifically by me as a third substantial brown object for the fuckers to reference to. Spatially, it sat between the two brown raced women as viewed from my assigned perch at the dinner table.
It was the usual roast beef dinner, the one he makes all the time, and one that seems to be perp mandated for color and content; everything is plain. My mother was beside me, and frequently blundered into me, the "accidentally on purpose" act which is so fucking tired, Then she began this on the couch afterward.
My neice played with all manner of plastic toys while we had dinner, and made sure there was the noise and the color of the plastic to go with it. She even brought this day-glo stuffed toy for me to see while dining, and then it was in my view from further away, likely as a color reference test. Later, she wrapped it up in a white towel to "put it to bed".
There were various other feints and games of aligning my niece with the native Indian woman, then the two brown race women together, and other combinations. They each played with a bright crimson red 3' long stuffed snake toy, flipping it about for perp red testing I assume. Other perp-helpful games were to have my neice bash away on a child's xylophone for noise and vibration creation, something near and dear to their sick souls.
I took the bus to my in-town brother's place and was promised a drive home. But, it "turned out" there was no room in the vehicle, something they would have figured out, and I was not allowed to point this out to them, but was mind-fucked into accepting the dodge of getting a cab home.
The cab came, and I did my goodbyes, except my out-of-town brother was missing. I went outside, and there both brothers were standing like sentries waiting for me to pass between them, with one red brakelight of the cab brightly illuminated between them. I have seen this before, where two gangstalkers combine to bound the featured object/gangstalker between them, and this was from that same playbook. So as I approached the cab, I moved to the side to foil this alignment, and then they moved in unison to attempt to maintain the lighted brakelight between them. Anyhow, I did my final goodbyes, and took the yellow colored cab back to my place. It was a Ford Escape Hybrid, and I must say, I was impressed that it could be run from electrical power off the line, and seamlessly switch to the gasoline engine almost noiselessly.
Anyhow, I was cast into the headspace of knowing what the most of the game was while it was unfolding, and I got my stare-at-the-freak acts from the cab driver and the woman who departed with her daughter before the dinner began. This is the third visitation of my out-of-town brother and family in four visits where I meet them for the first (and only this time), somewhere else other than my parent's place. I don't know quite what the deal is, but perhaps the perps are devising more difficulty in their setups.
05-13-2007
1040h
I got fucked out of posting this last night, and here it is, belatedly.
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