1530h
As I type this I am getting a succession of Harley motorcycle noise outside, as if this apartment is near a biker's bar when there isn't one for at least five miles. This particular noise is highly grating, and I don't think I'm the one to know exactly why.
But on the relative good news front, I did my month end Quicken entry and reconciled all the reciepts and statements, and to my surprise, it wasn't with the customary abuse of relentless cognitive and display screen contents fuckover games, and without being rage-ifed for the entire 40 minutes, unlike last month. Sure, there were some disappearing and re-appearing transactions that would change when I came back to the screen, and sometimes the amounts would be altered after I thought I had a balance error for a given date, and at the outse they royally screwed me as to reading the direction of the account. In the latter case, Quicken reads downward datewise, and my account, even with directional buttons on it, stays reading upward datewise. I was quite fluent at reading in the two different directions for the two applications until some party was able to sabotage me doing so, and then made my life utter fucking hell ever since.
But I did have an ongoing and continuous noisescape outside, the putative cause being a demolition a half block away, though I think most of the noise is projected and generated via some perp fuckery as the timing is so accurate. They script the noises for the instant I copy a transaction, flip between the Quicken or the browser account screen, enter an amount in, and every possible other detail one can think of. I never knew there were so many ways to cognitively fuck one over, but thanks to being a victim of this remotely applied abuse, I now know what my other TI colleagues also experience. This entire episode is of course part of the financial transaction interest of the perps, something I have described in past blog postings, and more noticeable when the gangstalkers are on me at the checkouts, ATM and other locations where such activity occurs.
Another common "feature" of the month end accounting is to have me perform this immediately following eating chocolate, usually at an afternoon tea time. Though today was a little different in that it was Cadbury Creme Eggs with the white and yellow goo in the center. And I assume it was also planned that my yellow colored medication ran out yesterday and that I didn't have any this morning, but will pick up the filled Rx when I return from the cleaning job tonight. The timing of yellow colors (extra vehicle sightings, yellow dressed gangstalkers), has been particularly acute with anytime, Mondays in particular, when I don't take the yellow colored capsule medication. All these things, as disparate as they seem, are inter-related for the perps' harassment and experimentation purposes.
And of course the assholes modify Quicken to be more problematic for me, and to incur extra entry and senseless dialog box popups. A new jerkaround was to block month-end reporting; last month screwing me out of doing it was sufficient, but this month they decided more blatant obstruction needed to be made apparent, and so they reminded me to do the reporting but blocked any results. Real sweet of the fucking assholes I cannot be allowed to know where my money is getting spent, which includes copious amounts of chocolate to continue the brown color fuckery games that so interests my tormentors. Yesterday they parked a septic services truck outside while I was having my five minute lunch and then when I finished and was to get my camera, the truck was gone. I will refrain from furhter speculation about this particular subject, but regular readers will know that there are an inordinant number of such trucks in my proximity, and the contents just might be particular to me.
I have often mentioned the extraordinary presence of certain races in my proximity, specifically negroes as they are so rare in this city. On a seeming unrelated front, the perps are always on me with gangstalkers when I exit and enter the building, and they cover me with negro gangstalkers then, in both daylight and nightime conditions. So it was with the flush of gangstalkers last night when I was buying some items at the LD store; as I was heading through the exit door, and lo, a negro woman "happened" to be entering. So what is it about negroes, or more like, brown skin, that interests the perps at the moment, or immediately after a financial transaction? And the same for eating chocolate in advance of month end Quicken accounting? I don't really know, except to note that it is consistent, just like the "breadstalking" games that they put on. One time they had a breadstalker positioned at the entrance to the building, pretending to make out that they had their key stuck in the lock as an excuse to loiter there for longer. Go figure, it is bizarre, and like one of my TI bretheren says, no one could make this up.
1945h
Now that I have returned from the one hour cleaning job, the perps are back into extreme abuse; plasma color flashes (reds, oranges, blue and greens), messing up the task order of taking a piss, blocking the toilet, flicking foil crumbs around, a nuisance phone call adroitly timed when I was about to put on my socks and a few other provocations to get the rage level up. Obviously, I had it too easy today someone figured. I also had the vagrant and dude gangstalker population out for my walk back, via the LD store. And lo, if they weren't out of the yellow pills so I will have to come back again. No wonder they let me purchase more of the Cadbury Creme eggs with the yellow centers. This game might have a longer run than expected. But no yellow vehicles in the car dealership shop where I was working tonight. A silver grey RX 8 with its rotary engine out on the floor though. I reckon the black Miata with the brown colored convertible top that is getting moved around each day for the last week must be the priority color combination for vehicular gangstalking.
I see that they have a silver grey colored hood part in the Parts shop just where I pick up the soap for putting into the mop bucket. I wonder if is the same black painted hood that was in the same area a few months ago in it brown cardboard packaging. It seems that most of the body parts come in black and then are painted to the appropriate color by the autobody shop, hence the oddity of a nonblack painted hood. But then again, I am not a Mazda parts specialist.
At the car dealership I also had my ball capped thuggy dude with the greyed in face do his back and forth stalking exactly counter to my own movements; they just do some putzing in the adjacent bathroom to then time themselves to be passing by when I am filling the mop bucket. That the mop bucket is a brown color, of plastic construction, might have extra excitement for the perps who cannot get enough brown games going. I haven't quite figured out their rationale for greyed-in dude faces, except it may be a way of visually parsing out the face from the hat or the silhouette, comportment or whatever the perps are working on to itemize the particular traumatization components. Similarly, with blondes, they will present them in the dim lit shadows at night.
And I have to complain here about the yellow strobing lights in my vision, "from" (read, placed there by plasmic fuckery) my glasses each time I go into the Parts department. I make about six passes through there in my cleaning duties and each time I go in there I get this foul linear yellow stroboscopic lights which I find highly annoying. There were placed horizontally until today, and now I am getting vertical stroboscopic assaults, all of a second or two long, but a piss off all the same. Until late last week this never happened before, and therefore cannot be extraneous reflection of the overhead lighting.
I see the boss man at work is continuing in his expedited routine, so now he does the windows when I was normally doing them. Part of this new arrangement is to have me do vacuuming upstairs as well as downstairs entrances. And there is nothing like a vaccum cleaner to bring on extra perp action; extra vehicles passing by, extra vehicle noise in the form of Harley Davidson like motorcycles, and even empty tour buses that "happen" to be passing by at 1830h when dark. With this changed routine of the boss man I don't do any mopping as he has finished it, or directs me to do other tasks.
And one would think when doing a manual labor job that it would become routine after a few months, and it has. But that isn't good enough for the perps who are duty bound to fuck up everything they possibly can. Now they have me "forget" to put in the plastic can liner, and then also turn me around to engage in nonsensical task order, and then let me in on it later to provide an annoyance provocation. And I see that the brown colored vacuum bag that was "accidentally" left in the hallway last night by me, and "missed" by my boss as well, was "neglected" for the entire work day and was still there tonight, 1' from a garbage can that anybody could of put it into. Funny how these "oversights" become infectious almost.
Other games tonight were to parade the Parts guy all over me, especially when I had a 2" thick pile of black plastic bags in hand. Regular readers will know that the perps have a problem with plastics, and placing them around me, and having a gangstalker nearby is as routine as brushing my teeth. Another related game is to have the irrigation supply vehicles parading their 20' sections of PVC pipe on their roof racks. The perps tell me that ingested pollutants create the problem for them as they have different properties at the quantum scale than at a macro level. Ask me if I care, but they have been highly consistent on this theme.
I wasn't free from the thuggy dudes until I was back in my apartment. Not only at the car dealership and then on the way back, but one shiftless Fuckwit dude was senselessly loitering outside the apartment building when I got back, and then he starts coming toward me and then "changes his mind" and turns around and paces the other way. And it might have been his pickup truck that was parked outside with its headlights on to be directly aimed at me while at the nearby intersection, and on me for some 80' of sidewalk before passing the vehicle. There are more of these dudes starting toward me, often in the elevator while I am in the hallway and about to enter it, and then relenting, sometimes feigning "wrong floor", sometimes not. Undeclared faux aggressiveness perhaps. Another example of more strange public behavior unbidden by anything I do or say. If that doesn't spell orchestration I don't know what does.
2315h
A run on reading about food and where to find cocoanut butter tonight. That took the better part of an hour, and I have no idea why the perps like me to research this topic and bookmark interesting web pages, all to the sounds of the din in my earmuffs and the odd noise from outside making it through.
This one is done for the day, hopefully a decent night's sleep.
Showing posts with label stroboscopic assault. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stroboscopic assault. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
Friday, October 26, 2007
Plasma Assaults
1855h
A late start for daily blogging the harassment games, but I had some real work to do, albeit without any pay, and doubtless for the perp's cause.
It was the continuation of Wednesday's work, (two days ago), and removal of a cottonwood tree stump from their backyard to prevent further suckering of shoots from the roots, having been cut down six months ago. The work of Wednesday was preceded by an all-night of no sleep, another imposition of the perps IMHO.
The first part of today's activities was getting there, and it "so happened" my in-town brother was in the neighborhood when I phoned him this morning about bringing his chain saw to aid in large root severing. Never one to turn down a ride to avoid the freakshow that every public bus trip becomes, I accepted his offer after a go-round with some dumbshit ideas he had about meeting elsewhere. As it so happened, he scored bigtime on some artwork he bought at a garage sale, and he stopped off at the autioneer's to collect the money in the form of cash. I was beside him when it was counted out, and the perps have an obsession about me seeing and handling money, so I can only assume this was part of the scripted show.
While this was going on, the perps slipped in a red coated negro woman (read, gangstalker) in a strange hairdo, the name of which I am not allowed to recall. She stood around for a minute or so, and then drifted off, and in the process I found my attention was directed to see her in a mirror reflection, and then a window reflection. Anyhow, when this was done, she was gone, and that gangstalk episode was over.
Then another stop at the infamous, to me at least, Oak Bay junction, where the physical assault of last week (10-18-2007) took place. As it "so happened" my brother pulled into a parking stall to unload a piece of brown colored furniture to a store there, and lo, if the store assistant wasn't a blonde woman in some fugly iridescent brown colored pants, and a light grey jacket. A few more brown paint cans that "happened" to be in my brother's van got snagged and moved in the process, and after a few minutes, that job was done. And it should be noted that on the day of the physical assault, the parking stall that my brother's van was located was occupied by a blood red van, one of two that were parked in file ahead of a white van, which was immediately in front of white police van, when they came after my call from the convenience store. All very interesting to say the least, these designed coincidences.
And plenty of noisestalking while I wrote the above paragraph, as well as the need to consult my appointment diary that "somehow" got left in my briefcase from yesterday's appointment. Funny how "I" remembered to take one item out when I got back, but not the other. Now more coughing in the hallway to add to the interuptions, and now plasma games on this LCD display as I type.
Back to the intended harassment highlight of the day, the plasma assaults. My brother and I went to my parent's place to drop me and his chainsaw off, and after a whole lot of screwing around, he got it going. The root was cut in no time, and after some "planning" discussions, we decided to leave the chain saw at my parent's place, as there was the possibility of me needing it later. This scene with him involved extra trips from the front yard to the backyard, one with the chainsaw running for chrissakes. Then another needless trip for him to "inspect" what I was doing, when he could of done this the first time when making the trip with the running chainsaw. Freaking weird his behavior at times, and getting worse.
Then my brother departed and then my parents came, and wanted to see my diggings, which was fair enough. Just before lunch I got the entire stump removed, and a sudden onset of my eyeglasses fogging up and sweat beads running down them forced me to go inside earlier.
Then lunch, and the usual food playing games my father puts on, all to substantiate his dementia "cred". And the usual games of laying it on extra thick, pretending not to know that I was working on tree stump removal on his own property. A diaspora of red objects was in my visual field in the form of a napkin set packaging, tomato, teapot, cookie packaging and a few more were arranged for me to see for the entire lunchtime. And to no surprise, my father got into playing with the tomatoes, moving the plate around for pointless reasons, playing with them and attempting to place the skins on his fork, and a bunch of other games that were borderline disgusting.
After lunch, when I got back to the tree stump removal, and pulling out the extended root system, the perps laid on this debilitating plasma beam activity, having the colors altered, then dithered, then a vortex of color in my central vision, and there was no way to shake it. As part of the deal, the perps have me yell about it, and lo, if my father wasn't within earshot, and put on his "what-what" routine, this three decades long bullshit exercise in not understanding plain English language, and forcing repeats of everything I say. After me telling him that there were plasma beam assaults, and that he knows who is doing this, he fucked out of there pretty fast, at total odds with his normal obdurate way of seeking every last detail. He "somehow" knew what the moment was to then immediately depart while having a purported dementia condition.
I had masers and plasma beams, particularly red flashes, emanating from the tree stump hole, while I was digging out the roots, and the rest of the related activities for the first ten minutes after getting back to the job after the lunchtime break. In all, I could barely function, and I wasn't allowed to know what all the phenomenon were doing or what was happening, as it kept me from performing the job.
Throughout the tree stump removal job I had plenty of overhead aircraft noise, the ongoing drone noise from last week, the construction percussive noises of hammering, the neighbor noises of vehicle start ups, seagulls mewing and squealing and others. I was also harassed by extra-conventional remotely applied gravitic methods to have me "miss" with my mattick swings, soil eruptions and flickings from roots "springing" back, the chainsaw "fail" to restart, misdirected tosses of roots into the pile of them, and other annoyances to piss me off. It was back to the constant living hell the assholes have kept me in for over 5 years now.
I took the bus back to downtown where my apartment is, and this turned out to be quite the freakshow. I had my "way cool" dude/gangstalker leaning on the bus shelter when I got there, James Dean style, replete with aviatior's sunglasses while at least 150 vehicles coursed by us in various configurations and colors, per usual vehicular harassment games, and eventually the bus came filled with plenty of freaks, the worst case scenario were some apparent Down's Syndrome adults. The perps like to put me through these freakish experiences, and here they were, ready for me on the bus.
I had a bus seat that I wouldn't of ordinarily taken, but as it so "happens", I "somehow" did not recall any of my knowledge as to where to sit to avoid the worst of the perps on-board machinations. The "way cool dude" took a seat on the other side of the rear exit, though on the same side of the bus. Sparing the details of the passenger turnover; nearby plastic bag games, the extra complement of red clothing that was worn, the red hair dye jobs, the extra bleached blonde jobs, and the unfathomable extra number of short tripping passengers, the "way cool dude" came to sit beside me for the latter third of the 25 minute bus trip. What a joke, the same unusual bus passenger at the same departure bus stop separating himself away from where I was sitting, and then "finding" an excuse to later sit beside me. He didn't get off at the same stop, though I would not of been surprised if he had.
There were more freak shows of gangstalkers on the city streets, and I had my now daily altercation of sorts, with a vehicle driver bearing down on me, pretending not to have seen me on the crosswalk. This new habit of the vehicular gangstalkers making direct runs at me on the street has erupted from a once in a while occurence level to a daily one this week. And no less, this dude was on his cell phone while performing this stunt, one of the devices the perps like me to be around on a selective basis.
As with any bus ride, just as if I were driving, there was at least 1,000 mobile vehicles ordered and arranged by color and vehicle type along the entire route, and probably at least that many arranged in the same way while parked in adjacent parking lots and side streets. I got plenty of red color flashes, some "from" the apparent coating on the bus windows, some from the clothes or reflections of them in the windows, and the rest of the full on red color stalking that has increased this week.
And I am getting extra on-street stroboscopic flashes, this under the cover story of the dappled sunlight "flickering" through the trees and branches as the leaves are begining to fall. Yesterday, the perps upped the ante and created this stroboscopic assault under the guise of sunlight passing through a chain link fence. I have been walking on that beat for nearly a year, and never had any problem, never mind before the overt harassment began. As of yesterday, the perps decided that the chainlink fence would be sufficient "cover" for them to create an annoying stroboscopic light effect upon me as I walk beside it. I always wonder who they think they are fooling.
2135h
Audio listening; true to form, a forced fuck up to cause the feed to terminate, and then a restart. Same deal with conference calls; the guest gets cut off for a few minutes very often.
2255h
Some browsing and video and audio listening; Dr. Nick Begich on mind invasive technologies, both good and bad, and and audio interview with Valerie Plame. In the latter case, she doesn't claim to understand the motivations of the players and what the entire agenda is. I don't either of course, and I wonder how the perps might be using this story, assuming they didn't orchestrate it. I note that they arranged for me to miss the 60 Minutes interview with her last weekend, and lo, if my video links to it went missing. Time to try again.
Enough blogging for today, and time to wind this one up to the sound of yet another siren cascade, at least the tenth one today over two locations.
A late start for daily blogging the harassment games, but I had some real work to do, albeit without any pay, and doubtless for the perp's cause.
It was the continuation of Wednesday's work, (two days ago), and removal of a cottonwood tree stump from their backyard to prevent further suckering of shoots from the roots, having been cut down six months ago. The work of Wednesday was preceded by an all-night of no sleep, another imposition of the perps IMHO.
The first part of today's activities was getting there, and it "so happened" my in-town brother was in the neighborhood when I phoned him this morning about bringing his chain saw to aid in large root severing. Never one to turn down a ride to avoid the freakshow that every public bus trip becomes, I accepted his offer after a go-round with some dumbshit ideas he had about meeting elsewhere. As it so happened, he scored bigtime on some artwork he bought at a garage sale, and he stopped off at the autioneer's to collect the money in the form of cash. I was beside him when it was counted out, and the perps have an obsession about me seeing and handling money, so I can only assume this was part of the scripted show.
While this was going on, the perps slipped in a red coated negro woman (read, gangstalker) in a strange hairdo, the name of which I am not allowed to recall. She stood around for a minute or so, and then drifted off, and in the process I found my attention was directed to see her in a mirror reflection, and then a window reflection. Anyhow, when this was done, she was gone, and that gangstalk episode was over.
Then another stop at the infamous, to me at least, Oak Bay junction, where the physical assault of last week (10-18-2007) took place. As it "so happened" my brother pulled into a parking stall to unload a piece of brown colored furniture to a store there, and lo, if the store assistant wasn't a blonde woman in some fugly iridescent brown colored pants, and a light grey jacket. A few more brown paint cans that "happened" to be in my brother's van got snagged and moved in the process, and after a few minutes, that job was done. And it should be noted that on the day of the physical assault, the parking stall that my brother's van was located was occupied by a blood red van, one of two that were parked in file ahead of a white van, which was immediately in front of white police van, when they came after my call from the convenience store. All very interesting to say the least, these designed coincidences.
And plenty of noisestalking while I wrote the above paragraph, as well as the need to consult my appointment diary that "somehow" got left in my briefcase from yesterday's appointment. Funny how "I" remembered to take one item out when I got back, but not the other. Now more coughing in the hallway to add to the interuptions, and now plasma games on this LCD display as I type.
Back to the intended harassment highlight of the day, the plasma assaults. My brother and I went to my parent's place to drop me and his chainsaw off, and after a whole lot of screwing around, he got it going. The root was cut in no time, and after some "planning" discussions, we decided to leave the chain saw at my parent's place, as there was the possibility of me needing it later. This scene with him involved extra trips from the front yard to the backyard, one with the chainsaw running for chrissakes. Then another needless trip for him to "inspect" what I was doing, when he could of done this the first time when making the trip with the running chainsaw. Freaking weird his behavior at times, and getting worse.
Then my brother departed and then my parents came, and wanted to see my diggings, which was fair enough. Just before lunch I got the entire stump removed, and a sudden onset of my eyeglasses fogging up and sweat beads running down them forced me to go inside earlier.
Then lunch, and the usual food playing games my father puts on, all to substantiate his dementia "cred". And the usual games of laying it on extra thick, pretending not to know that I was working on tree stump removal on his own property. A diaspora of red objects was in my visual field in the form of a napkin set packaging, tomato, teapot, cookie packaging and a few more were arranged for me to see for the entire lunchtime. And to no surprise, my father got into playing with the tomatoes, moving the plate around for pointless reasons, playing with them and attempting to place the skins on his fork, and a bunch of other games that were borderline disgusting.
After lunch, when I got back to the tree stump removal, and pulling out the extended root system, the perps laid on this debilitating plasma beam activity, having the colors altered, then dithered, then a vortex of color in my central vision, and there was no way to shake it. As part of the deal, the perps have me yell about it, and lo, if my father wasn't within earshot, and put on his "what-what" routine, this three decades long bullshit exercise in not understanding plain English language, and forcing repeats of everything I say. After me telling him that there were plasma beam assaults, and that he knows who is doing this, he fucked out of there pretty fast, at total odds with his normal obdurate way of seeking every last detail. He "somehow" knew what the moment was to then immediately depart while having a purported dementia condition.
I had masers and plasma beams, particularly red flashes, emanating from the tree stump hole, while I was digging out the roots, and the rest of the related activities for the first ten minutes after getting back to the job after the lunchtime break. In all, I could barely function, and I wasn't allowed to know what all the phenomenon were doing or what was happening, as it kept me from performing the job.
Throughout the tree stump removal job I had plenty of overhead aircraft noise, the ongoing drone noise from last week, the construction percussive noises of hammering, the neighbor noises of vehicle start ups, seagulls mewing and squealing and others. I was also harassed by extra-conventional remotely applied gravitic methods to have me "miss" with my mattick swings, soil eruptions and flickings from roots "springing" back, the chainsaw "fail" to restart, misdirected tosses of roots into the pile of them, and other annoyances to piss me off. It was back to the constant living hell the assholes have kept me in for over 5 years now.
I took the bus back to downtown where my apartment is, and this turned out to be quite the freakshow. I had my "way cool" dude/gangstalker leaning on the bus shelter when I got there, James Dean style, replete with aviatior's sunglasses while at least 150 vehicles coursed by us in various configurations and colors, per usual vehicular harassment games, and eventually the bus came filled with plenty of freaks, the worst case scenario were some apparent Down's Syndrome adults. The perps like to put me through these freakish experiences, and here they were, ready for me on the bus.
I had a bus seat that I wouldn't of ordinarily taken, but as it so "happens", I "somehow" did not recall any of my knowledge as to where to sit to avoid the worst of the perps on-board machinations. The "way cool dude" took a seat on the other side of the rear exit, though on the same side of the bus. Sparing the details of the passenger turnover; nearby plastic bag games, the extra complement of red clothing that was worn, the red hair dye jobs, the extra bleached blonde jobs, and the unfathomable extra number of short tripping passengers, the "way cool dude" came to sit beside me for the latter third of the 25 minute bus trip. What a joke, the same unusual bus passenger at the same departure bus stop separating himself away from where I was sitting, and then "finding" an excuse to later sit beside me. He didn't get off at the same stop, though I would not of been surprised if he had.
There were more freak shows of gangstalkers on the city streets, and I had my now daily altercation of sorts, with a vehicle driver bearing down on me, pretending not to have seen me on the crosswalk. This new habit of the vehicular gangstalkers making direct runs at me on the street has erupted from a once in a while occurence level to a daily one this week. And no less, this dude was on his cell phone while performing this stunt, one of the devices the perps like me to be around on a selective basis.
As with any bus ride, just as if I were driving, there was at least 1,000 mobile vehicles ordered and arranged by color and vehicle type along the entire route, and probably at least that many arranged in the same way while parked in adjacent parking lots and side streets. I got plenty of red color flashes, some "from" the apparent coating on the bus windows, some from the clothes or reflections of them in the windows, and the rest of the full on red color stalking that has increased this week.
And I am getting extra on-street stroboscopic flashes, this under the cover story of the dappled sunlight "flickering" through the trees and branches as the leaves are begining to fall. Yesterday, the perps upped the ante and created this stroboscopic assault under the guise of sunlight passing through a chain link fence. I have been walking on that beat for nearly a year, and never had any problem, never mind before the overt harassment began. As of yesterday, the perps decided that the chainlink fence would be sufficient "cover" for them to create an annoying stroboscopic light effect upon me as I walk beside it. I always wonder who they think they are fooling.
2135h
Audio listening; true to form, a forced fuck up to cause the feed to terminate, and then a restart. Same deal with conference calls; the guest gets cut off for a few minutes very often.
2255h
Some browsing and video and audio listening; Dr. Nick Begich on mind invasive technologies, both good and bad, and and audio interview with Valerie Plame. In the latter case, she doesn't claim to understand the motivations of the players and what the entire agenda is. I don't either of course, and I wonder how the perps might be using this story, assuming they didn't orchestrate it. I note that they arranged for me to miss the 60 Minutes interview with her last weekend, and lo, if my video links to it went missing. Time to try again.
Enough blogging for today, and time to wind this one up to the sound of yet another siren cascade, at least the tenth one today over two locations.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Fuzzy Black Balls in My Vision
1115h
I got two pictures of red vehicles being arranged from the photographs; this should back up my observations on this color of vehicle being planted proximate to me anywhere I go, and even outside my apartment. There are four per frame, photographed on public streets, and not arranged by me. I wonder what the benefit the perps are getting in allowing me to publish these, as they obstruct me all the time should I venture into revealing their methods.
I am getting myriad masers, the zinger kind, aka, the fuzzy black balls that flit around in my vision this morning. And as I start this blog for the day, I am getting a right arm pain, keeping it relatively immobile.
The noisescape has been active, and then lapsed into inactivity at times this morning. And my ambitions to go into town, all of two blocks, to the ATM got dashed, and I have schlepped in front of the PC all morning.
Some more of yesterday's word/term repetition comes to mind: while at the strength training group floor exercise session, they often introduce it as "torture" session. This "t" word has got a huge amount of airplay in the last few years from the news on various fronts such as Abu Graib, Guantanamo Bay and the so-called "rendition" flights. And I have no idea as to why this word is getting featured (aka, a "trigger word") so often, though it seems that any and all associations that I have with it are up for scrutiny and monitoring by the perp gangs. Even now, as I key this in, the maser zingers are flitting about in formation pairs or triplets, and the 2 cycle motorcycle noise has been added into the noise mix with additional seagull squeaking layered on top. Go figure, and wonder why a covert party wants to "own" all psychic and thematic associations with this word. And are we to believe it is the Girl Guides, aka noble objectives of a covert agency that sustains six years of abuse, that is commanding such a agrandizing imperative?
1825h
A shut-in day so far; any intention to deal with a few errands has been thoroughly dissapated. And another time waster was a prescribed nap of almost two hours, and I did not need any extra sleep having been given a normal 8 hours of it last night with only a few transient interuptions/awakenings.
Presently, the perps are getting excited by way of their planted noises, especially the ones outside my door in the apartment hallway, over the fact that I a reading, yet again, another version of the ether, and the grand unification of quantum mechanics, gravity, the paranormal and relativity ("Origin of Mind", Ronald D. Pearson). As always, I am not allowed, or cannot, understand this theory of physics with any degree of comprehension, and I am putting this link out there in the hope that someone else will read it and provide a Grand Unification Theory of Physics for Dummies, me being the test case. All I can say is the Pearson manages to tie in action-at-a-distance energies (including gravity), electromagnetic theory, the paranormal and relativity, which constitutes the main vectors of harassment and the rest of the perp games that go on. They even put the manager's voice on outside my door, and have even taken the bottle bashing there too, just like a rooming house.
Now the wandering cell phoning assholes are outside my door, and when I verbally complained about that, the assholes started up the glass bashing again. Maybe it is time to raise cain as to why anything is going on in the hallway outside my room at 1900h, but the street hollaring has also started up too. This is truly a high harassment moment, as the fuckers aren't going to quit. I gave them a yell, and I got a "sorry", but I have been there too often to buy that bullshit. Now the zinger masers have started up in earnest, along with some vision impairment games.
1920h
More noise, and a siren cascade into the bargain, and then the dog barking noise which is straight from the perp's sound projection device, as there are no properties within blocks that permit the dog in the yard scenario. Back to the past, and all the machinations in making noise outside my door at the putative rooming house, my last residence location.
I got my digital pictures loaded from the camera that I took everywhere this week, and lo, if they nearly all "failed" due to an exposure "problem". The camera was working fine, and then not all of a sudden. Even documenting this is a problem as the perps have also stolen my photographs from when they allowed the film camera to work, before they shut it down, and had the camera repair dude tell me that there was no parts for it. And there wasn't anything wrong with the photographs, just the film getting trashed along the sprocket holes each time. A few of the surviving pictures are shown at the top.
From the digital set that "failed", I had one of a navy officer, miles from a base, walking on residential North Park Street after I finished yoga class yesterday. This is at least the fourth party of putative military members to be on this street in the last two months. It makes no sense whatsoever, except in the bizarre freakshow world of the perps and their continuing quest to present it to me everywhere I go.
I am getting strobed again; the hyperactive window reflection of the residential tower 120' way "somehow" keeps throwing light flashes onto me in this apartment, even if I am 10' back from the window opening. When I look to see where they are coming from, the strobing stops. Perhaps this is all to get me to turn my head, something the perps do routinely when they are outside gangstalking, especially when turning corners, and around me. I have never seen such absurd social behavior as the operatives when some 4' away with their head turned away from where they are going, which is toward me usually.
More stroboscopic assaults, and the assholes aren't bothering with the pretense that it is coming from anywhere, just an in-my-face light pulsation along with sirens and loud mufflered vehicles. Now the door shaking stunt is being played, even with the deadbolt on the door, which theoretically should make it less able to hop about with two hold points on the door frame. This must be a big day for the perps, and perhaps I should ruin their fun and go somewhere for a walk, something that I never do except when transiting to specific locations. All my hiking stopped when I gave up my vehicle last year.
2230h
Another round of vision impairment games, and I am done for the evening. The perps are adding some kind of whitish flare to what I see, and I have no idea if it is a neural intrusion or something emanating from the LCD display.
I got the above four red vehicle pictures loaded, and the perps introduced me to another suite of four in file parked on the street below. Later, when I "happened" to get up and close the curtains, there were another two red vehicles mobile, but stopped beside the four in file. That makes six red vehicles massed below at that very (scripted) moment.
I am still getting vision assaults, so I will call this a posting, and blog off on this shut-in day.
I got two pictures of red vehicles being arranged from the photographs; this should back up my observations on this color of vehicle being planted proximate to me anywhere I go, and even outside my apartment. There are four per frame, photographed on public streets, and not arranged by me. I wonder what the benefit the perps are getting in allowing me to publish these, as they obstruct me all the time should I venture into revealing their methods.
I am getting myriad masers, the zinger kind, aka, the fuzzy black balls that flit around in my vision this morning. And as I start this blog for the day, I am getting a right arm pain, keeping it relatively immobile.
The noisescape has been active, and then lapsed into inactivity at times this morning. And my ambitions to go into town, all of two blocks, to the ATM got dashed, and I have schlepped in front of the PC all morning.
Some more of yesterday's word/term repetition comes to mind: while at the strength training group floor exercise session, they often introduce it as "torture" session. This "t" word has got a huge amount of airplay in the last few years from the news on various fronts such as Abu Graib, Guantanamo Bay and the so-called "rendition" flights. And I have no idea as to why this word is getting featured (aka, a "trigger word") so often, though it seems that any and all associations that I have with it are up for scrutiny and monitoring by the perp gangs. Even now, as I key this in, the maser zingers are flitting about in formation pairs or triplets, and the 2 cycle motorcycle noise has been added into the noise mix with additional seagull squeaking layered on top. Go figure, and wonder why a covert party wants to "own" all psychic and thematic associations with this word. And are we to believe it is the Girl Guides, aka noble objectives of a covert agency that sustains six years of abuse, that is commanding such a agrandizing imperative?
1825h
A shut-in day so far; any intention to deal with a few errands has been thoroughly dissapated. And another time waster was a prescribed nap of almost two hours, and I did not need any extra sleep having been given a normal 8 hours of it last night with only a few transient interuptions/awakenings.
Presently, the perps are getting excited by way of their planted noises, especially the ones outside my door in the apartment hallway, over the fact that I a reading, yet again, another version of the ether, and the grand unification of quantum mechanics, gravity, the paranormal and relativity ("Origin of Mind", Ronald D. Pearson). As always, I am not allowed, or cannot, understand this theory of physics with any degree of comprehension, and I am putting this link out there in the hope that someone else will read it and provide a Grand Unification Theory of Physics for Dummies, me being the test case. All I can say is the Pearson manages to tie in action-at-a-distance energies (including gravity), electromagnetic theory, the paranormal and relativity, which constitutes the main vectors of harassment and the rest of the perp games that go on. They even put the manager's voice on outside my door, and have even taken the bottle bashing there too, just like a rooming house.
Now the wandering cell phoning assholes are outside my door, and when I verbally complained about that, the assholes started up the glass bashing again. Maybe it is time to raise cain as to why anything is going on in the hallway outside my room at 1900h, but the street hollaring has also started up too. This is truly a high harassment moment, as the fuckers aren't going to quit. I gave them a yell, and I got a "sorry", but I have been there too often to buy that bullshit. Now the zinger masers have started up in earnest, along with some vision impairment games.
1920h
More noise, and a siren cascade into the bargain, and then the dog barking noise which is straight from the perp's sound projection device, as there are no properties within blocks that permit the dog in the yard scenario. Back to the past, and all the machinations in making noise outside my door at the putative rooming house, my last residence location.
I got my digital pictures loaded from the camera that I took everywhere this week, and lo, if they nearly all "failed" due to an exposure "problem". The camera was working fine, and then not all of a sudden. Even documenting this is a problem as the perps have also stolen my photographs from when they allowed the film camera to work, before they shut it down, and had the camera repair dude tell me that there was no parts for it. And there wasn't anything wrong with the photographs, just the film getting trashed along the sprocket holes each time. A few of the surviving pictures are shown at the top.
From the digital set that "failed", I had one of a navy officer, miles from a base, walking on residential North Park Street after I finished yoga class yesterday. This is at least the fourth party of putative military members to be on this street in the last two months. It makes no sense whatsoever, except in the bizarre freakshow world of the perps and their continuing quest to present it to me everywhere I go.
I am getting strobed again; the hyperactive window reflection of the residential tower 120' way "somehow" keeps throwing light flashes onto me in this apartment, even if I am 10' back from the window opening. When I look to see where they are coming from, the strobing stops. Perhaps this is all to get me to turn my head, something the perps do routinely when they are outside gangstalking, especially when turning corners, and around me. I have never seen such absurd social behavior as the operatives when some 4' away with their head turned away from where they are going, which is toward me usually.
More stroboscopic assaults, and the assholes aren't bothering with the pretense that it is coming from anywhere, just an in-my-face light pulsation along with sirens and loud mufflered vehicles. Now the door shaking stunt is being played, even with the deadbolt on the door, which theoretically should make it less able to hop about with two hold points on the door frame. This must be a big day for the perps, and perhaps I should ruin their fun and go somewhere for a walk, something that I never do except when transiting to specific locations. All my hiking stopped when I gave up my vehicle last year.
2230h
Another round of vision impairment games, and I am done for the evening. The perps are adding some kind of whitish flare to what I see, and I have no idea if it is a neural intrusion or something emanating from the LCD display.
I got the above four red vehicle pictures loaded, and the perps introduced me to another suite of four in file parked on the street below. Later, when I "happened" to get up and close the curtains, there were another two red vehicles mobile, but stopped beside the four in file. That makes six red vehicles massed below at that very (scripted) moment.
I am still getting vision assaults, so I will call this a posting, and blog off on this shut-in day.
Friday, June 01, 2007
Dog Day Fridays
1355h
I am having an enforced "demotivation" about going anywhere today, another version of "shut in" time that the perps so assiduously foster.
The overhead pounding started up last night, within 5 minutes of being horizontal in bed, plus they also gave me a simutaneous zapping which pissed me off, and I was "obliged" (read, mind-fucked) to verbally respond to. This was about midnight, and under the cover story of "moving" by overhead "neighbors". As before, when the upstairs "neighbors" conduct the same noises (mostly) at the same juctures (unbidden thoughts, coordination with other noise, web page displays etc.), over five succesive residences in two countries over five years, then they cannot be mere mortals, i.e. the random possibilities of human occupation. It is more concerted noise of a specific nature, to continue noisestalking as part of their neural energetics assay activity for the quest of 100% mind control, and the rest of the depraved agenda.
This morning the logging whistles went off again, the same noise that would "erupt" at the same time of day as my last residence location, at least a half mile away. It is a noise that is familiar to me from my long ago working time in forestry, though I was never involved in active logging. Anyhow, the perps like to play this noise when I am "coming to", being slowly aroused from the sleep they have managed.
There was also an awakening to see their "grainy picture show", where everything looks very grainy for some reason, likely related to how they play about with light. Why do they need to wake me up for this, and what do they get from it is beyond me, but typically I am in some kind of semi-awakened state, and no doubt some brain energy pathways are turned off for their convenience in studying the remainder which they seem to have a "problem" with, as in not being able to fuck it around.
I got a white light stroboscoping light show to send me off to sleep; usually the perps put this on and I bury my face in the pillow so to avoid it. Not this time, as they played it in my mind or my sight detection part of the brain, just to keep it going for whatever purpose they have as an objective. That is, I could still "see" this stroboscope show in my closed eyelids that were planted into the pillow. I have some kind of aversion to their stroboscoping games, and this may also be color specific. I always "pass" the standarized red EEG stroboscoping tests to determine for epilepsy, and that isn't too bad. (This is where they put on the sensors on one's head, and have the patient look into a stroboscope image, usually in red).
After the extreme number of emergencies of two days ago, there has been at least three major siren cascades so far, and I am quite sure it is part of this concerted noise assault program, as the actual vehicles rarely surface. It is projected noise, from some control room in one of the heavily aerialled buildings (at least three) in this town. There is more of a high pitched noise flavor over the past week; more brake squealings, children's voices, sirens, air pressure releases and a few others they like to introduce.
2000h
I finally did get out and attempt to cash a rebate check at the bank earlier this afternoon, but I should of not bothered and stayed in a fugue state. The bank was nearly flowing out the door with "customers" so I didn't bother to go inside. I need to see a teller and get more rolls of quarters for these infernal 20 year old coin operated machines in the building. Though in fact, I suspect this serves the perp assholes more than anything. In my experience, they have every last crumb and item of litter all figured out in advance, and where it belongs in the script.
And it was the usual freak show to go 1.5 blocks downtown and partake in the throngs of gangstalkers; it was a Friday afternoon, so it was an all-out gangstalking event. The same individuals who were at an intersection waiting for the pedestrian traffic control when I was headed for the bank, "re-appeared" at that same intersection only 2 minutes later after I turned around outside the bank. These were young Asian boys both wearing black with white hats on, one being a wool toque on one of the hottest June 01 on record. Go figure. There are black and white vehicles parked on the street outside my apartment building as I am typing this.
And the perps figure I need more close-in motorcycle "exposure" (whatever the fuckers get from it), and parked two in one block on the sidewalk, in small alcoves so as to not block egress (excepting the doorway to the buildings).
Another "whatever" was that they put a redi-mix (concrete delivery) truck headed S. as I waited at the traffic control, and then at the next block it was headed N. This was when I was headed into the bank. Then on my way back, they put on a second redi-mix truck with a different coloration heading right through downtown. Clearly, there were no deliveries to make, and this was all about gangstalking. As I mentioned in past blogs, I usually get about five per week now, as this form of vehicular gangstalking has been increased.
When I owned a house, I made concrete many times, and I had two major pours for landscaping, and I think it is about time that the perp nutters who are constantly placing concrete jobs, pours, delivery trucks etc. in my proximity got their sick asses out of the closet, and fessed up to this criminality, all to expedite their own "research"/torture agenda. That way, they could get the results in a week instead of harassing thousands of TI's all over the world in covert fashion for decades in some cases. For my part, (concrete pouring and smoothing activities), it is a case of been there, done that. So why is the perps' problem made to be mine?
And as a response, I get faked bus noise and performance muffler noise, one following the other, and no causal vehicles to be seen. Some kind of answer from the billion dollar budgeted cowards and their litany of illegality. Imagine working for an organization where everything that is to be done is illegal; surveillance, harassment, event construction etc.
2230h
More web surfing; the vision impairments have started up in their usual late day phase. Yesterday was an exception as this form of harassment started first thing in the morning. My theory on that was it was for me to mention at the yoga class check-in, and lo, if there weren't some yoga exercises we all did. Way too convenient. And I suspect that looking the the extreme left, right, up, down, and the four intermediary cardinal directions was to serve the perps' interests to have one eye looking through the glasses while the other was looking out from behind them. The perps expend no end of effort in having me view an item seen directly, through glass, through safety glass (has an embedded plastic layer), through plexiglass, through poly, and any other substance that is transparent or translucent. Then add in all the possible colors and their combinations, and that amounts to thousands of variants. No big deal to these psychopathic nut cases harassing the living fuck out of my life. Just plant another noise; a bell tingling and then a bus noise from outside.
I better stop before there is any more noise baiting and blog off.
I am having an enforced "demotivation" about going anywhere today, another version of "shut in" time that the perps so assiduously foster.
The overhead pounding started up last night, within 5 minutes of being horizontal in bed, plus they also gave me a simutaneous zapping which pissed me off, and I was "obliged" (read, mind-fucked) to verbally respond to. This was about midnight, and under the cover story of "moving" by overhead "neighbors". As before, when the upstairs "neighbors" conduct the same noises (mostly) at the same juctures (unbidden thoughts, coordination with other noise, web page displays etc.), over five succesive residences in two countries over five years, then they cannot be mere mortals, i.e. the random possibilities of human occupation. It is more concerted noise of a specific nature, to continue noisestalking as part of their neural energetics assay activity for the quest of 100% mind control, and the rest of the depraved agenda.
This morning the logging whistles went off again, the same noise that would "erupt" at the same time of day as my last residence location, at least a half mile away. It is a noise that is familiar to me from my long ago working time in forestry, though I was never involved in active logging. Anyhow, the perps like to play this noise when I am "coming to", being slowly aroused from the sleep they have managed.
There was also an awakening to see their "grainy picture show", where everything looks very grainy for some reason, likely related to how they play about with light. Why do they need to wake me up for this, and what do they get from it is beyond me, but typically I am in some kind of semi-awakened state, and no doubt some brain energy pathways are turned off for their convenience in studying the remainder which they seem to have a "problem" with, as in not being able to fuck it around.
I got a white light stroboscoping light show to send me off to sleep; usually the perps put this on and I bury my face in the pillow so to avoid it. Not this time, as they played it in my mind or my sight detection part of the brain, just to keep it going for whatever purpose they have as an objective. That is, I could still "see" this stroboscope show in my closed eyelids that were planted into the pillow. I have some kind of aversion to their stroboscoping games, and this may also be color specific. I always "pass" the standarized red EEG stroboscoping tests to determine for epilepsy, and that isn't too bad. (This is where they put on the sensors on one's head, and have the patient look into a stroboscope image, usually in red).
After the extreme number of emergencies of two days ago, there has been at least three major siren cascades so far, and I am quite sure it is part of this concerted noise assault program, as the actual vehicles rarely surface. It is projected noise, from some control room in one of the heavily aerialled buildings (at least three) in this town. There is more of a high pitched noise flavor over the past week; more brake squealings, children's voices, sirens, air pressure releases and a few others they like to introduce.
2000h
I finally did get out and attempt to cash a rebate check at the bank earlier this afternoon, but I should of not bothered and stayed in a fugue state. The bank was nearly flowing out the door with "customers" so I didn't bother to go inside. I need to see a teller and get more rolls of quarters for these infernal 20 year old coin operated machines in the building. Though in fact, I suspect this serves the perp assholes more than anything. In my experience, they have every last crumb and item of litter all figured out in advance, and where it belongs in the script.
And it was the usual freak show to go 1.5 blocks downtown and partake in the throngs of gangstalkers; it was a Friday afternoon, so it was an all-out gangstalking event. The same individuals who were at an intersection waiting for the pedestrian traffic control when I was headed for the bank, "re-appeared" at that same intersection only 2 minutes later after I turned around outside the bank. These were young Asian boys both wearing black with white hats on, one being a wool toque on one of the hottest June 01 on record. Go figure. There are black and white vehicles parked on the street outside my apartment building as I am typing this.
And the perps figure I need more close-in motorcycle "exposure" (whatever the fuckers get from it), and parked two in one block on the sidewalk, in small alcoves so as to not block egress (excepting the doorway to the buildings).
Another "whatever" was that they put a redi-mix (concrete delivery) truck headed S. as I waited at the traffic control, and then at the next block it was headed N. This was when I was headed into the bank. Then on my way back, they put on a second redi-mix truck with a different coloration heading right through downtown. Clearly, there were no deliveries to make, and this was all about gangstalking. As I mentioned in past blogs, I usually get about five per week now, as this form of vehicular gangstalking has been increased.
When I owned a house, I made concrete many times, and I had two major pours for landscaping, and I think it is about time that the perp nutters who are constantly placing concrete jobs, pours, delivery trucks etc. in my proximity got their sick asses out of the closet, and fessed up to this criminality, all to expedite their own "research"/torture agenda. That way, they could get the results in a week instead of harassing thousands of TI's all over the world in covert fashion for decades in some cases. For my part, (concrete pouring and smoothing activities), it is a case of been there, done that. So why is the perps' problem made to be mine?
And as a response, I get faked bus noise and performance muffler noise, one following the other, and no causal vehicles to be seen. Some kind of answer from the billion dollar budgeted cowards and their litany of illegality. Imagine working for an organization where everything that is to be done is illegal; surveillance, harassment, event construction etc.
2230h
More web surfing; the vision impairments have started up in their usual late day phase. Yesterday was an exception as this form of harassment started first thing in the morning. My theory on that was it was for me to mention at the yoga class check-in, and lo, if there weren't some yoga exercises we all did. Way too convenient. And I suspect that looking the the extreme left, right, up, down, and the four intermediary cardinal directions was to serve the perps' interests to have one eye looking through the glasses while the other was looking out from behind them. The perps expend no end of effort in having me view an item seen directly, through glass, through safety glass (has an embedded plastic layer), through plexiglass, through poly, and any other substance that is transparent or translucent. Then add in all the possible colors and their combinations, and that amounts to thousands of variants. No big deal to these psychopathic nut cases harassing the living fuck out of my life. Just plant another noise; a bell tingling and then a bus noise from outside.
I better stop before there is any more noise baiting and blog off.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Pounding Overhead Again
0930h
The overhead pounding noise started up in the night again, as I had been awakened to hear it. Any unbidden or uncontrolled thoughts were immediately met with the clunking noise. After I yelled at the assholes the noises reverted to dropping objects that bounce (like marbles) and leave a decaying trail-off of noise, as if the above floor surface had been changed to promote that particular noise. And for at least the third day in succession, the overhead clunking has arrived about 30 minutes after my first logon session of the day, which follows breakfast and my morning dental hygeine routine.
The sunshine, or appropriately, natural lighting games are going on with gusto; an amazingly fast variation in sunlight and cloud cover is happening as I type this and the above paragraph, and it maybe related that I journaled the above description in my handwritten journal, and this is a repeat. The coughing and hacking has been moderate this morning, and not the usual serial parade of operatives egressing this building today. (So far).
Tongue pinching is a new harassment development this week; it "happens" when I am utlizing the rubber tipped GUM probe in my mouth, and has never happened before in all the decades of this routine. It is a small but ongoing pinching that is "attributed" to the rubber tipped device, and for whoever is watching over the perps, that is good enough. It is another case of who are they fooling as they make it quite plain that they don't need to bother with decieving me, at least for this stunt.
1000h
A coughing onset burst started outside my door in the hallway; it wouldn't be so bad if the operative had a genuine condition, but is its so contrived that my annoyance factor is immediately stoked. Probably the game plan as it is so consistent.
A now-rare round of male jocularity has erupted; it was a daily staple for a few months and then dropped off as long time readers might note. The masers and plasma games have also started up in concert with this latest round of noisestalking in the orchestrated noisescape. Another tiresome day of the same activity while the game of pretend continues.
Yesterday's explanation to the doctor about the amazing coincidence of noisestalking in the night while being awakened just to hear it at odd hours didn't seem to register as an unusual coincidence. It was deemed as an opportunity to again offer me a medication that does nothing but make me worse, in 2 of 2 attempts. It is a continuing saga of ignoring compelling and consistent information all to jerk me around some more while serving another party's interests ahead of mine. And more likely, it is face time with an Asian, something that they have long injected into my circumstances, even before the assholes sucked me into overt harassment. Not that I have any complaint about Asians, it is just that there is a concerted effort to judiciously place them, along with other demographics, into my circumstances as part of the harassment spectrum. And as noted in other blog postings, it is very likely part of the perp's brown color problem that they created for themselves owing to past fuckery and depravity in my developmental years.
1320h
The operative herd is on the move; they are successively populating the bathroom that is next to my room, flushing the toilet (not having used it) and then departing by slamming the door which in turn, serves as the excuse to shake my room. This is the post lunch digestion period, and a predictable time for them to be on the move. Like a frat house, which is also a metaphor for the collective maturity of the assholes evidenced by their stunts that have been going on for 5 years nearly.
I went to Qi Gong earlier on the same walking route as yesterday; it is my communal gangstalk with my operatives, and this time the action started in the elevator, with two other passengers and it began closing with a beeper going off in a unstoppable progression, and just at the last moment, another operative slipped through the closing doors. This is the third time in the last year of this amazing timing of slipping through the doors as they are closing, and somehow not set them off to open again. More never-befores. Said operative made a big deal out of getting out first, on the wrong floor, and then backing in to me as he "figured it out".
Thankfully the Qi Gong class is only a half hour; there were plentiful plasma toroids projecting off the circular fittings on the wall, a ventilation plate and a sensor looking device of some kind. Nice nested concentric circles, growing toroids displaced from the actual source, and conveniently behind the instructor. There were other straight beams flitting about and the odd maser coming directly at me from the floor. And everyone else plays pretend, as if they weren't there. It is a class of 15 to 20, and most of them are regulars, or at least as I know them. I got the various color exposures, and the dude beside me just happened to have the same colored sweater as the jacket I wore on the street, placed aside for Qi Gong. It would seem, based on past experience, he was some kind of reference for that color, as I would have still been "glowing" the olive drab color from wearing my coat. Or, at least, that is my theory based on observations, as they like to emulate colors of clothing that I have on, or just took off me. Similarly, as a passenger in automobiles; they like to keep the doors and trunk open as I pass by parked vehicles, and very often the driver or passenger is loitering about, feigning to retrieve something from the vehicle.
1350h
Overhead clunking has arrived for the first time this afternoon and is coincident with me reading about the despicable Jose Padilla case in the US where he has been detached from his environment by way of sensory deprivations for 3.5 years and is no longer in a fit state to aid his defence. This is another story of illegal incarceration and possible torture that has gone on for too long and also has all the makings of being an "accidently on purpose" stunt, possibly to serve some higher objective that us mortals are unaware of. It fits the pattern, that being the Guantanamo Bay prisoners, and the so-called rendition incarceration and torture on the road. In my world, I don't call three near identical events at the hands of one perpetrator, in this case, the US Government under Pres. G. W. Bush, a coincidence. There is a pattern here, and apart from creating duress for the subjects, and possible color clothing energetics assay games, also mentioned in past blogs, I don't know why the US Government has taken this repressive turn. What I do know is that I routinely get rounds of noise flurries/noisestalking whenever I read about this subject matter, the overhead clunking being but one example. Call it perp stalking bait for now.
After I take a piss and come back to this blog, what happens? Why the perps have darkened down a corner of this LCD display just to piss me off. The masers and plasma activity is extra energetic upon my return, which includes the presence of the fuzzy ball masers in a matched formation pair, travelling in a vertical zig zag toward me. Such is my life.
1420h
Another zapping coincident with an overhead clunking, one designed to piss me off enough to yell at the assholes. It was as if a large marble was dropped immediately overhead. And what was the coincident event, always a tip-off as to what the assholes are up to? I was reading about a tactical nuclear warhead weapon of the 1960's called the Davy Crockett. Not that I follow this topic often, but when I do, I have a band of sick assholes playing games who lack to gumption to show up and explain themselves. What a way to run a billion dollar per year (my estimate) operation, by harassing innocent citizens while hiding in a closet. Fucking sick.
1540h
The tea with chocolate time is done and my visual field has a variety of masers in it, both the filamentous (aka "trails") kind and the fuzzy black balls travelling in formation. Sometimes bright point sources of light appear to dither my reading on this LCD display. And some sudden shadow flashes across the room as I repair a typos of the same letter in two places.
I saw a weirder than normal-weird circumstance today on my Qi Gong journey. A single file of traffic crossed at the light in front of me, and there were six vehicles in file, all silver-grey or white (very similar grey scale tones) and they all had the near identical front to them, even if not the same models or manufacturers. There were SUV's, minivans and sedans, and all had the same hood profile and same rake angle of windshield and hood. It was at least the second instance of a long file of same or similar grey scale vehicles passing by. Earlier, when heading to Qi Gong, at an well travelled intersection, there was seven white or silver grey vehicles in file, all in the right lane which was closest to me, and at that point I had just turned a 35 degree turn (non orthogonal intersection), I was walking over the new section of concrete the assholes laid down last week (noise then), and a blonde woman in a brown suit was walking toward me, within 6'.
She wasn't the only blonde woman dressed in brown; there were at least four more brown dressed women on my homebound leg. One who lingered at a bus stop, and then decided to walk ahead of me and was impossible to catch up to, and lo, if the bus didn't arrive at the next stop just as she was nearing it, and somehow that driver knew to stop and she got on.
The next stop was a certain pharmacy store with a respectable food section, and since I was out of chocolate, and since I am constantly mind-fucked into "needing it", the communal "I" headed to that direction to get some as it is European chocolate for $1.00g, a good deal. And amazingly, there was a woman outside with one of the drug store's shopping baskets which are never taken outside, and she was standing there outside with her many purchases, looking at something in her hand. That was absurd enough, and lo, if she hadn't returned and was stationed at the checkout in "serious" discussion with the cashier, for whom I was waiting. Anyhow, this absurd act finally got it together and took off again with the shopping basket, allowing me to be next. Meanwhile, all the in-store gangstalkers assembled around me while I waited, and in particular, the whiney kid act, and the mother with the shopping cart with a substantial brown box inside it. (The metal and wood/brown combination is very commonly arranged around me).
Then other brown dressed women joined the gangstalk fray; one paralleling me on the other side of the street, then later, one from a side street who timed herself and the large stroller to be getting in front of me, rudely it seemed. I finally walked past her, she of a fast pace even with the stroller. Later, a fourth brown coated gangstalker was ahead of me, then crossed the street and paralleled me. It isn't anywhere normal to encounter so many pedestrians on this route, never mind the color combinations.
1640h
Another round of over-faked coughing and hacking from the never-get-better corps. At least the coughers at Qi Gong get better, and spread the coughing load around to other operatives.
1645h
Extra augmented lock clatter noise with a coincident zapping, and then the asshole on lock noise walks past my closed door and into the bathroom next to me for a do-nothing toilet flush and a gangstalking (standing there I assume).
The zapping is still the perp's big play, and it is pissing me off as there is some kind of extra impact of an inconsequential noise. And the coicident factor was deleting a website from my Bookmarks, at that exact moment of the mouse click.
The assholes also zap me when I get my haircut. When the stylist's shears or comb touch my head there is some kind of added visceral zapped sensation, even if the noise wasn't much. It is fucking sick and depraved to target anyone with electomagnetic, or other, energies for any reason, especially when they have done absolutely nothing to incurr such vile treatment.
1925h
Some relative quiet has descended once the post dinner serial sucession of operatives in the next door bathroom ceased along with the the commensurate front door slamming and room shaking. And suddenly, while reading about Michel Caine (I had read his autobiography when my PC was taken out three weeks ago), the perps pull a sudden overhead clunking with me again yelling at the assholes to end this depravity of noise and/or thoughtstalking. There is no peace over the most seeming benign activities and subjects. It is another example of life under the microscope in this Feckless New World I have been dumped into.
2145h
A firework went off at the very moment I moved my feet forward and it came with a coincident zapping, a faked reaction to the bang. And the perps cut me in on seeing the trail of sparkling and the small burst of light. One Halloween night per year isn't enough it seems.
And in that vein, the perps have upped the ante on a current annoyance, and that is stroboscoping me with light while outside in the daylight. Their game was to do this where a tree's branches cast shadows upon me, in the wintertime mostly, and the shadow effect was co-opted and conveyed as an annoying stroboscopic assault. I could usually counter this by moving my head away from the light, and temporarily acting like a perp and walking one direction and looking in another. But yesterday and today, the assholes did not bother with the cover story of "tree branch shadow" for the choppy lighting effect, and launched the stroboscopic assault when and where they wanted to.
The plasma games are also getting silly; anytime I get back from an outing, the hallway in this supposed rooming house is chock full of plasma, like a thick fog which limits the visibility. When I got back from yoga yesterday they were placing red ovoid spots in front of me, and over my white fridge top where they could be seen directly. It was annoying, and they have done worse with this particular harassment method, but it always raises the question; why are they pretending to fool someone by extensive cover story development, and then at other times so utterly blatant, albeit infrequently? That, I cannot answer.
2240h
More forced coughing of me this time, and about the same time some whistling started up in the adjacent parking lot. More strange coincidences especially when I don't have a cold.
The day is nearly done, and enough has been transpired to call this a posting.
1600h
This is chocolate and tea digestion time, and it got the noisestalking honor of been given the glass bottle bashing noise, that is still going on, now over a minute or so of a putative resident who collects bottles from the trash for their return value. The fact that he can collect so many in a day, and bashes the bottles at anytime of the day or night, blows his cover. And, the crockery bashing that also erupts in the next door bathroom, suggests that the perps are able to use the noise vibrations in some kind of analytical way.
Ditto on account of the noisy motorcycle noise that also fired up, these too are a all-day ingredient in the noise mix that follows me everywhere I go. At the last residence the perps even arranged a recycling depot nearby, and it continues to bash the glass bottles all the time when I am shopping in its proximity. These assholes are years ahead of figuring out what to do next. Very little is serendiptitous.
The overhead pounding noise started up in the night again, as I had been awakened to hear it. Any unbidden or uncontrolled thoughts were immediately met with the clunking noise. After I yelled at the assholes the noises reverted to dropping objects that bounce (like marbles) and leave a decaying trail-off of noise, as if the above floor surface had been changed to promote that particular noise. And for at least the third day in succession, the overhead clunking has arrived about 30 minutes after my first logon session of the day, which follows breakfast and my morning dental hygeine routine.
The sunshine, or appropriately, natural lighting games are going on with gusto; an amazingly fast variation in sunlight and cloud cover is happening as I type this and the above paragraph, and it maybe related that I journaled the above description in my handwritten journal, and this is a repeat. The coughing and hacking has been moderate this morning, and not the usual serial parade of operatives egressing this building today. (So far).
Tongue pinching is a new harassment development this week; it "happens" when I am utlizing the rubber tipped GUM probe in my mouth, and has never happened before in all the decades of this routine. It is a small but ongoing pinching that is "attributed" to the rubber tipped device, and for whoever is watching over the perps, that is good enough. It is another case of who are they fooling as they make it quite plain that they don't need to bother with decieving me, at least for this stunt.
1000h
A coughing onset burst started outside my door in the hallway; it wouldn't be so bad if the operative had a genuine condition, but is its so contrived that my annoyance factor is immediately stoked. Probably the game plan as it is so consistent.
A now-rare round of male jocularity has erupted; it was a daily staple for a few months and then dropped off as long time readers might note. The masers and plasma games have also started up in concert with this latest round of noisestalking in the orchestrated noisescape. Another tiresome day of the same activity while the game of pretend continues.
Yesterday's explanation to the doctor about the amazing coincidence of noisestalking in the night while being awakened just to hear it at odd hours didn't seem to register as an unusual coincidence. It was deemed as an opportunity to again offer me a medication that does nothing but make me worse, in 2 of 2 attempts. It is a continuing saga of ignoring compelling and consistent information all to jerk me around some more while serving another party's interests ahead of mine. And more likely, it is face time with an Asian, something that they have long injected into my circumstances, even before the assholes sucked me into overt harassment. Not that I have any complaint about Asians, it is just that there is a concerted effort to judiciously place them, along with other demographics, into my circumstances as part of the harassment spectrum. And as noted in other blog postings, it is very likely part of the perp's brown color problem that they created for themselves owing to past fuckery and depravity in my developmental years.
1320h
The operative herd is on the move; they are successively populating the bathroom that is next to my room, flushing the toilet (not having used it) and then departing by slamming the door which in turn, serves as the excuse to shake my room. This is the post lunch digestion period, and a predictable time for them to be on the move. Like a frat house, which is also a metaphor for the collective maturity of the assholes evidenced by their stunts that have been going on for 5 years nearly.
I went to Qi Gong earlier on the same walking route as yesterday; it is my communal gangstalk with my operatives, and this time the action started in the elevator, with two other passengers and it began closing with a beeper going off in a unstoppable progression, and just at the last moment, another operative slipped through the closing doors. This is the third time in the last year of this amazing timing of slipping through the doors as they are closing, and somehow not set them off to open again. More never-befores. Said operative made a big deal out of getting out first, on the wrong floor, and then backing in to me as he "figured it out".
Thankfully the Qi Gong class is only a half hour; there were plentiful plasma toroids projecting off the circular fittings on the wall, a ventilation plate and a sensor looking device of some kind. Nice nested concentric circles, growing toroids displaced from the actual source, and conveniently behind the instructor. There were other straight beams flitting about and the odd maser coming directly at me from the floor. And everyone else plays pretend, as if they weren't there. It is a class of 15 to 20, and most of them are regulars, or at least as I know them. I got the various color exposures, and the dude beside me just happened to have the same colored sweater as the jacket I wore on the street, placed aside for Qi Gong. It would seem, based on past experience, he was some kind of reference for that color, as I would have still been "glowing" the olive drab color from wearing my coat. Or, at least, that is my theory based on observations, as they like to emulate colors of clothing that I have on, or just took off me. Similarly, as a passenger in automobiles; they like to keep the doors and trunk open as I pass by parked vehicles, and very often the driver or passenger is loitering about, feigning to retrieve something from the vehicle.
1350h
Overhead clunking has arrived for the first time this afternoon and is coincident with me reading about the despicable Jose Padilla case in the US where he has been detached from his environment by way of sensory deprivations for 3.5 years and is no longer in a fit state to aid his defence. This is another story of illegal incarceration and possible torture that has gone on for too long and also has all the makings of being an "accidently on purpose" stunt, possibly to serve some higher objective that us mortals are unaware of. It fits the pattern, that being the Guantanamo Bay prisoners, and the so-called rendition incarceration and torture on the road. In my world, I don't call three near identical events at the hands of one perpetrator, in this case, the US Government under Pres. G. W. Bush, a coincidence. There is a pattern here, and apart from creating duress for the subjects, and possible color clothing energetics assay games, also mentioned in past blogs, I don't know why the US Government has taken this repressive turn. What I do know is that I routinely get rounds of noise flurries/noisestalking whenever I read about this subject matter, the overhead clunking being but one example. Call it perp stalking bait for now.
After I take a piss and come back to this blog, what happens? Why the perps have darkened down a corner of this LCD display just to piss me off. The masers and plasma activity is extra energetic upon my return, which includes the presence of the fuzzy ball masers in a matched formation pair, travelling in a vertical zig zag toward me. Such is my life.
1420h
Another zapping coincident with an overhead clunking, one designed to piss me off enough to yell at the assholes. It was as if a large marble was dropped immediately overhead. And what was the coincident event, always a tip-off as to what the assholes are up to? I was reading about a tactical nuclear warhead weapon of the 1960's called the Davy Crockett. Not that I follow this topic often, but when I do, I have a band of sick assholes playing games who lack to gumption to show up and explain themselves. What a way to run a billion dollar per year (my estimate) operation, by harassing innocent citizens while hiding in a closet. Fucking sick.
1540h
The tea with chocolate time is done and my visual field has a variety of masers in it, both the filamentous (aka "trails") kind and the fuzzy black balls travelling in formation. Sometimes bright point sources of light appear to dither my reading on this LCD display. And some sudden shadow flashes across the room as I repair a typos of the same letter in two places.
I saw a weirder than normal-weird circumstance today on my Qi Gong journey. A single file of traffic crossed at the light in front of me, and there were six vehicles in file, all silver-grey or white (very similar grey scale tones) and they all had the near identical front to them, even if not the same models or manufacturers. There were SUV's, minivans and sedans, and all had the same hood profile and same rake angle of windshield and hood. It was at least the second instance of a long file of same or similar grey scale vehicles passing by. Earlier, when heading to Qi Gong, at an well travelled intersection, there was seven white or silver grey vehicles in file, all in the right lane which was closest to me, and at that point I had just turned a 35 degree turn (non orthogonal intersection), I was walking over the new section of concrete the assholes laid down last week (noise then), and a blonde woman in a brown suit was walking toward me, within 6'.
She wasn't the only blonde woman dressed in brown; there were at least four more brown dressed women on my homebound leg. One who lingered at a bus stop, and then decided to walk ahead of me and was impossible to catch up to, and lo, if the bus didn't arrive at the next stop just as she was nearing it, and somehow that driver knew to stop and she got on.
The next stop was a certain pharmacy store with a respectable food section, and since I was out of chocolate, and since I am constantly mind-fucked into "needing it", the communal "I" headed to that direction to get some as it is European chocolate for $1.00g, a good deal. And amazingly, there was a woman outside with one of the drug store's shopping baskets which are never taken outside, and she was standing there outside with her many purchases, looking at something in her hand. That was absurd enough, and lo, if she hadn't returned and was stationed at the checkout in "serious" discussion with the cashier, for whom I was waiting. Anyhow, this absurd act finally got it together and took off again with the shopping basket, allowing me to be next. Meanwhile, all the in-store gangstalkers assembled around me while I waited, and in particular, the whiney kid act, and the mother with the shopping cart with a substantial brown box inside it. (The metal and wood/brown combination is very commonly arranged around me).
Then other brown dressed women joined the gangstalk fray; one paralleling me on the other side of the street, then later, one from a side street who timed herself and the large stroller to be getting in front of me, rudely it seemed. I finally walked past her, she of a fast pace even with the stroller. Later, a fourth brown coated gangstalker was ahead of me, then crossed the street and paralleled me. It isn't anywhere normal to encounter so many pedestrians on this route, never mind the color combinations.
1640h
Another round of over-faked coughing and hacking from the never-get-better corps. At least the coughers at Qi Gong get better, and spread the coughing load around to other operatives.
1645h
Extra augmented lock clatter noise with a coincident zapping, and then the asshole on lock noise walks past my closed door and into the bathroom next to me for a do-nothing toilet flush and a gangstalking (standing there I assume).
The zapping is still the perp's big play, and it is pissing me off as there is some kind of extra impact of an inconsequential noise. And the coicident factor was deleting a website from my Bookmarks, at that exact moment of the mouse click.
The assholes also zap me when I get my haircut. When the stylist's shears or comb touch my head there is some kind of added visceral zapped sensation, even if the noise wasn't much. It is fucking sick and depraved to target anyone with electomagnetic, or other, energies for any reason, especially when they have done absolutely nothing to incurr such vile treatment.
1925h
Some relative quiet has descended once the post dinner serial sucession of operatives in the next door bathroom ceased along with the the commensurate front door slamming and room shaking. And suddenly, while reading about Michel Caine (I had read his autobiography when my PC was taken out three weeks ago), the perps pull a sudden overhead clunking with me again yelling at the assholes to end this depravity of noise and/or thoughtstalking. There is no peace over the most seeming benign activities and subjects. It is another example of life under the microscope in this Feckless New World I have been dumped into.
2145h
A firework went off at the very moment I moved my feet forward and it came with a coincident zapping, a faked reaction to the bang. And the perps cut me in on seeing the trail of sparkling and the small burst of light. One Halloween night per year isn't enough it seems.
And in that vein, the perps have upped the ante on a current annoyance, and that is stroboscoping me with light while outside in the daylight. Their game was to do this where a tree's branches cast shadows upon me, in the wintertime mostly, and the shadow effect was co-opted and conveyed as an annoying stroboscopic assault. I could usually counter this by moving my head away from the light, and temporarily acting like a perp and walking one direction and looking in another. But yesterday and today, the assholes did not bother with the cover story of "tree branch shadow" for the choppy lighting effect, and launched the stroboscopic assault when and where they wanted to.
The plasma games are also getting silly; anytime I get back from an outing, the hallway in this supposed rooming house is chock full of plasma, like a thick fog which limits the visibility. When I got back from yoga yesterday they were placing red ovoid spots in front of me, and over my white fridge top where they could be seen directly. It was annoying, and they have done worse with this particular harassment method, but it always raises the question; why are they pretending to fool someone by extensive cover story development, and then at other times so utterly blatant, albeit infrequently? That, I cannot answer.
2240h
More forced coughing of me this time, and about the same time some whistling started up in the adjacent parking lot. More strange coincidences especially when I don't have a cold.
The day is nearly done, and enough has been transpired to call this a posting.
1600h
This is chocolate and tea digestion time, and it got the noisestalking honor of been given the glass bottle bashing noise, that is still going on, now over a minute or so of a putative resident who collects bottles from the trash for their return value. The fact that he can collect so many in a day, and bashes the bottles at anytime of the day or night, blows his cover. And, the crockery bashing that also erupts in the next door bathroom, suggests that the perps are able to use the noise vibrations in some kind of analytical way.
Ditto on account of the noisy motorcycle noise that also fired up, these too are a all-day ingredient in the noise mix that follows me everywhere I go. At the last residence the perps even arranged a recycling depot nearby, and it continues to bash the glass bottles all the time when I am shopping in its proximity. These assholes are years ahead of figuring out what to do next. Very little is serendiptitous.
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