Monday is for Tapping, Sirens and Freeway Noise

1400h
I am getting the tapping noise, as if the upstairs neighbor is tapping at something on an uncarpeted floor. Regular readers will know that both neighbors and uncarpeted floors are unlikely scenarios for differring reasons; there seems to be a dearth of authentic neighbors in any location I have lived in since 2000, even before the harassment began in 2002, and that most apartments have the same vertical configuration and furnishings floor to floor. Which doesn't answer the question, why would it be happening anyway? And this is at least the 20th time this has "happened" since being here, so could it be just more arranged noise and vibration from the assholes who inundate me with it all day long?

We have done two siren cascades since I got back from my parents place at 1130h, which is a bit much for a Monday, usually a slack day for emergencies. One siren cascade was even modified to have a 1960's style sound to it, blended with the current siren sound that we are all so familiar with. And the noise of a freeway outside is another absurdity as it is a bidirectional secondary artery below, and with traffic controls at every intersection. No one dares go fast as visibility is limited for the buildings being close to the street. Unless of course, they are confident that all traffic has been arranged and controlled, hence the odd Fuckwit bombing along in a filled dump truck, though rare.

2140h
At least 10 siren cascades today, and that makes it about 10x more often than when I lived in Seattle, a city that is 4x as large. But as this is the usual high harassment day, replete with at least four rage-ification stunts to keep me at the highly vexed state, it fits the pattern that Mondays are hell days.

I also got more disruption for the one hour cleaning job at the car dealership; even lingering "customers" and then their young children using the washrooms on the heels of me doing the garbage. And more dude confluences around me when attending to the brown plastic mop bucket filling; they love to arrive at this event and buzz around me, and this time they put on two of them, doing a tag team thing, one of them reprising as he was doing his overalls removing while sitting on the concrete floor while I was on my way to get the bucket. And while placing a stack of new plastic garbage bags on the counter at the Parts section, a gangstalking mechanic was copying me in placing a plastic licence plate hold on the counter some 10' away, walking the same direction as me, and then placing his plastic item down at exactly the same moment that I did. Naturally I don't get to see this in time to prevent it and foil the timing, as those kinds of thoughts are not allowed anymore.

Other events were a city bus freakshow, taking the bus in from my parent's place to downtown. The "least likely character to be found on public transportation" was my gangstalking seatmate for most of the trip. The dude in the black jacket, the black fine knitted toque with it pulled down to this black wraparound shades was the specimen in question. First I had a woman with wheeled tote beside me, and then this MIB dude who was sitting at the back, previously noticed by me, slithers up from behind and then sits beside me, within 30 seconds of the seat being free. These strange black hatted and shaded dude gangstalkers are becoming more common, but they still make me puke to look at them, so I looked outside for the duration to eliminate his visage from my peripherial vision. But this wasn't good enough, so he leaned forward, no matter how stupid or uncomfortable it looked, and then I turned my head a little more to ensure this Fuckwit wasn't seen at all. Anyhow, there were a few other freaks on board, and the bus was absurdly full for a 10 minute service at 1100h on a weekday morning. Like always, the perps are caring less about their cover story, and get right down to gangstalking without the pretense of normality. I also had at least six vagrants lined up when I got off the bus, so the bullshit of keeping the Unfavored demographic group representation in my proximity was duly maintained.

And I note that the perps are also putting on dudes in long black coats of late; having them hang around while I am doing the cleaning job, towering over me while attending to garbage cans and placing new plastic bags in them, and other fleeting looks/juxtapositons. My assigned task at the start of the cleaning job is to present myself to one of two staff at the car dealership when I arrive to let them know the cleaning staff has arrived and will take care of the alarm setting. This all came about when one of the staff, purportedly, didn't know we were there and put on the alarm which went off while I was working in the building. So today, the first day of this new protocol, I see the sales manager in his office, but he is not looking at me, and I am about to say something when another MIB-like dressed dude, albeit on the tubby side, comes swooping into the manager's office and places himself between us, to intervene in the visual contact. Then he steps aside after two seconds or so, and I get to fulfil my intent to make visual contact with the manager. So what was that all about? The first instance of this "requirement" of visual contact, and this tubby Fuckwit MIB in the long black coat steps between us before contact could be confirmed. I hadn't seen this dude before, and I am getting the suspicion this car dealership "staff" seems to be a perp dude parade show, somehow inculcating me with various Unfavored dude profiles, much like they appeared when they supposedly laid down the traumatic subconscious memory associations some 50 years ago. (Sometimes the male perps present themselves in fedoras, looking like they stepped out of a 1950's movie). Not my problem, so why am I being placed in confluences of strange dudes all the time?

The strangest dude today was the 6'8" negro dude with the funny hairnet type of hat and the loud yellow and orange clothing as he exited the elevator when I had summoned it to depart. Out walks this way fugly negro dude, now the third one to be featured on this floor, and in this loud colored clothing. Quite the show. I recall when in Seattle and walking with my negro boss, (with whom I got on well with), on the street and this tall negro was at at least 7' in front of us, and many of the passersby seemed to know him, as if he was some kind of basketball star. I asked my boss who he was, and he didn't know, he said. I don't get it; where were so many people engaged in making out as if this person was famous? That was before the perps overtly struck and made themselves apparent, so I shouldn't be too surprised that the assholes are replaying all their featured gangstalkers from before.

It was last Monday when the perps put on three negro gangstalkers in one block; one at each end and one oncoming in the middle who did a head down, hat (black) visible only walk toward me for 40' and then looks up when 6' in front of me, and is wearing shades when it is dark out. Mondays are high negro content days it would seem. And for the record, there are very few negros in this city, but one wouldn't know that from the number that I see, usually in strange situations and presentations. The perps would take the negros off the bus after three or so stops, though of late, they seem to be keeping them on for longer.

I haven't figured out why the perps continue with this "racial integration" gangstalking, but suffice to say, they had me lined up long before they struck with this current abusive tyranny. I had two negro employees of three at my last work site in this city, and I had a negro co-worker, and later boss when I worked in Seattle and Everett. What this is all about, and how they became one of the Unfavored isn't clear, save that the perps have suggested in their subliminal (almost like slimey) way, that they had young children of varying races in cages in some kind of military sponsored camp as shown in the Indian Lake Project. Their suggestion is that I was there, and retain subconscious recollections from this era that they are still attempting to emulate and thereby evoke the subconscious recollection they are desirous of purging. I say, leave me fucking alone, I am fine without the fucking help, and was finally getting my near-nutter ex out of my life when the assholes unloaded on me, bring Hell to every moment of my existence. And guess what; I get more exposure to nutters now. Fucking sick.

And in one of the more obvious tailings tonight, I had this Asian man walking toward me outside this apartment building, and then I cross his path after he walked by to get to the front door, some 20' set back from the sidewalk, and then this fucker reverses direction and arrives behind me, and even getting into the same elevator. He only "needed" to go to the second floor, so why didn't he take the stairs. This is as blatant as the Fuckwits who arrive in the doctor's office waiting room, don't see any doctor, and then follow me out to take the same bus back to downtown and even get off at the same bus stop. Fucking outrageous, if not, unsporting.

No doubt I am due for a few hours of wakefulness before being allowed to sleep, like most Mondays, and I expect that there might be some associated pounding noise overhead that will "follow: me there. Such is this existence, where even turning on a lightswitch can be made into an adverse experience. Another siren cascade follows that revelation. Time to call this one done.

Noise Tracking From the Hallway

1700h
Last night's hacksawing noise from the hallway has resumed just as I returned from gym and had my tea and chocolate. Yesterday's blog covered the same noise that erupted in the evening, after dusk and until 2130h. That was outrageous enough. But with two events on today, yoga and gym, why, the noise erupts when I have returned from the latter. Very possibly the noise will track me the entire evening through dusk, as seeming "problem" time for the perps, all stemming from their first problematic move, to apply this nonconsensual human experimentation remotely.

Regular readers will know that the perps will use the same noise and source at differing locations and times of the day. I call this noisetracking, which might be what they call it to. It appears that the same noise is used to plumb my hearing and related neural correlates to compare this to another location and time of day.

The perps have been changing up my shaving routine and today was the first time with starting with a fresh blade for shaving my face on this double activity day. That might be why they are so excited with the extra noise (per above), and the extra gangstalking as well. They covered me each time I was outbound in the elevator with gangstalkers from this floor, something they rarely do. The latter time was a supposed couple, a blonde woman and a hefty dude, each with their Starbucks coffee mugs and packing a vacuum cleaner as well. Go figure. A typical Coffee Corps stalking, just that it was in the elevator and out the front door. It is rare they put the Coffee Corps on this floor, but as they are increasing the amount of brown color exposure in my proximity, it isn't entirely unexpected.

The perps even sent a tractor trailer unit with a deep brown trailer around the block, clearly going back in the direction it came from, all to present a large brown object in a densified material, steel. The gangstalkers are also wearing more brown colors out in public as well, and they are putting on more of the Peanut Butter Men; the dudes in peanut butter colored overalls that seem totally lost, walking along the street, a long way from any jobsite.

And I also note that my new jar of peanut butter, smooth this time, now behaves normally, something that wasn't permitted for at least the last year. When in the fridge, the well mixed Adams peanut butter is a stiff paste, but for some reason, it was less viscous and would drop off the knife with relative ease, making application of it to bread a dicey situation and ripe for perp food flicking games. Well, "for some reason", the very same fridge stored peanut butter has now resumed its normal high viscosity and isn't the pain it was to deal with.

Of course that did not stop the game with the peanut butter and jam on toast today, and yesterday. The normally cohesive gluten free bread slice was from the sabotage defects and yet "somehow" a large piece hinged off. Yesterday, when this happened, I lowered the bread over the plate and stopped the hinge portion from going anywhere. That wasn't good enough it seems; today, the identical circumstances of a break in the bread resulted in the same hinging piece at the same juncture (after the first bite), but this time the perps screwed me in taking any preventitive action and the broken portion spun 270 degrees and landed face down. I have never seen such a piece of animated bread before, but here it was, acting as if there were unseen forces outside of those we conventionally expect. Again, there were no defects in the bread slice that would of been causal to this spontaneous bread breakup, and note that in both circumstances, it happened after the first bite from the bread. Just amazing how anything can be fucked with at any time, remotely and unseen. All to play color and substance interaction games, having the peanut butter and jam on the plate, rather than on the bread. All the food flinging games of small drops of it arriving from nowhere just doesn't cut it anymore. In fact, the perps are even placing crumbs and food samples on the table in advance of me bringing it to the table.

It was a two freak gym class today; there were about six others, and only one woman. The dude thing is getting more emphasis these days, or at least at gym. They added two blonde women as the coordinators, and it was interesting the games that were going on with them, and the agitated asshole who keeps tailing me, especially the class two days ago when he stayed back after departing ahead of me to then tail me out the door. This fucker, although not freakish but most certainly an agitated asshole will be known as AA; he is made out to be an extra obvious gangstalker, and his cover story is that he is agitated as part of his "condition". But he has the most amazing capability to repeat his actions each gym class. He stands in between me and the mirror, putting on some bullshit reason while speaking with the instructor, and then he later places himself beside me in the wall squats exercises. Midway through he takes off for about five minutes and comes back again. He did this two days ago, and I remarked in the blog that he appears to be conforming to the perps' need to slowly introduce the known assholes and freaks in my proximity. The blonde woman coordinator was on the far side of him, and she began by verbally "offering" some help to improve my form. What does AA do when I turn my head to face her; he puts his head in the way in yet another erratic move as part of his cover story. Then he departs in this mandated "break", and when the blonde woman was talking to me again, and I was facing her, AA "happens" to arrive at that instant and stick his fucking head between us again. I call this co-opting blonde "aura"; inserting the freak or asshole near the blonde (or other attractive) woman to bathe in her more Favored auric glow. I have no other explanation for it, but it is so singularly repetitive that there must be something the perp criminals are getting from this proximity arrangement.

1820h
The hallway noise has started up, this being the dinner digestion period, having had my one slice leftover tortilla about 30 minutes ago. I have never known an apartment maintenance activity to be hacksawing metal over a 24 hour period like this. And not forgetting that I spent some hours away, and lo, if it didn't start up when I got back. I suspect the vibrational component to metal cutting is also aiding the perp's sick cause.

And by dint of coincidence, a meaningless term in my circumstances, the reflective beams "from" the residential tower are beaming in again. These "reflections" are coming in from differing windows each day, and currently, there appears to be no actual window that is lit up. An "organic" light beam from nowhere.

1855h
More hacksawing of metal in the hallway, dogging my reading of blogs, starting and stopping while reading about the Bush Family Nazi ties. Who needs to know about this as I am reading it? Now a round of loud door closings has erupted, adding to the vibrational component of this ongoing noise assault.

2015h
Some relative quiet after a string of loud mufflered vehicle noise getting progressively quieter over the past hour, and then a sudden loud onset of the same noise with coincident hallway talking.

Some of today's gangstalking games were on the common themes, "breadstalking"; a supposed staff member was walking through the pharmacy department at LD when I stopped by to get my refill, and then proceeded to reprise at the cleaning supplies section where I went next. The entire LD visit was full of gangstalking, but mostly at the entrance and exit, and they even let me get my Rx and the checkout with no waiting. I got skunked for J Cloths at the LD store. This is part of the ongoing game where these items are inserted into mind, this time as legitimate items to acquire, and lo, there is none to be found at the very location where they should be. One TI calls this bait-and-trigger, I am more profane, calling it suck-and-fuck. Or more politely as "dashed expectations" which is more neutral as to the nature of the setup/intended acquisition, but a very common harassment stunt. Of late, these are mostly small item events, and don't come with huge repercussions should I get skunked in not finding something. I cannot imagine what the perps get from this, but it is such a common theme yet it defies rational analysis.

I had some more stories from today's outings, but I got blanked out as to what they were. More later if I am allowed access to my own recall.

05-23-2008
0825h
I got screwed out of posting this last night, but I am allowed to recall some of the freak show from yesterday in some detail.

When I exited yoga yesterday, the perps had a MIB on my tail who "happened" to be walking out of a residential area and then following me for three blocks. The dude was in a black suit with dark sunglasses and had white runners on! No kidding, a totally whacko outfit, all to tail me immediately following yoga. Regular readers will know that the first venue for yoga was further away from my apartment, and there was a 70% chance of encountering military personnel on my way back. I have a sense the perps view yoga as a high potential opportunity with all the spine flexing, and want to be able to replicate this detectability on the street while walking in an upright position. There was no end of strange clunking around the room when I first sat down for yoga, and then it settled down to none, obviating the usual cover story of building maintenance activity.

I am getting screwed out of recollecting other stories from yesterday, but anyhow, time to get this posted.

Blog Time Again

1350h
Even if I got back some hours ago, there is a constant requirement of the perps to have me start the blog after lunch. Perhaps it is all that yelling at the assholes while they screw me over on typo sabotage during this high-interest post mealtime digestion period.

I am back from an overnight stay at my parents, the perp abettors and quislings that supply newborns into electronic slavery, me at least. I cannot imagine the huge degree of loathing that must go with all concerned when they got sucked into participating in this sadistic outrage; teachers, doctors, neighbors and on. I reckon they are all monitored for the event of interaction at least, and for teachers, it would be all their job, every weekday. No wonder I found so little joy in them, as they were stressed at the sight of me, IMHO.

As usual, my father was on his walking about the house in orthogonal directions, standing up for no apparent reason and other nonsensical behaviors that fit the gangstalker's profile. He clattered the teapot lid (in the next room) some seven times in the evening, and never moved it once, just sought it out and rattled it. And if this sounds much like the glass bottle bashing act that followed me from my last residence location, one could suspect there is a pattern here, using ceramic and glass as vibration sources in my proximity. It is now nearly a year of this more blatant form of noise making has started up in earnest, and the pretense of normality has been dispensed with for this particular gambit.

My in-town brother came for dinner and got right into being evasive and avoiding any greetings. As it turns out, his neighbor sold his house to a couple who are embarking on a total renovation, down to removing siding and walls. I wonder if this is also part of the perp's scheme, as it surely must, as there is nothing they like better than ripping something human habitable open, including motorvehicles when colliding with telephone poles. (One in-town car wreck of three years ago had the snapped pole swing back and tear the roof off). With the "monster" house invasion of the Lower Mainland (Vancouver, Surrey, Richmond municipalities) in the past two decades, where the extant house was pulled down and sent to a landfill, one would think the perps have had enough of house trashing and the energetics assays they conduct on such structures and the ground they sat on. Seemingly not, especially when they live next door to a victim surrogate, his brother.

Ditto for mining disasters; two in progress as I write this; the trapped miners in Utah, and similarly one in China. Both are coal mines, and my father was a coal geologist. Another no-fluke association, though I am not sure what role coal plays in the harassment games, apart from the black color, an often used reference color that the perps use in their crumb and dust bunny inundation games that go on around me, and that their MIBs use, even on hot summer days like today. (A woman gangstalker, WIB in fact, dressed in a long black dress and black sweater with a wide brim light brown straw hat.)

The vision impairment activity is starting earlier today, they once reserved this for evenings, but have decided to increase their level of fuckery, which they have been doing from the get-go.

I drove my parent's car into downtown, and then my mother took over driving once I got out. The usual street swarm was around me, about ten of the ambulatory gangstalkers "passing by" and ensuring that they crossed my path when I backed it up into a driveway to turn the vehicle around, at the request of my mother who claims dislike driving.

And I had a swarm around me on Sunday (yesterday) when I departed this building; I got the negro gangstalker at the elevator, all dressed in a white track suit, and then with me in the elevator, and then an Asian joined us wearing a verdant green shirt with a particleboard table with one leg off that he grasped and placed at an orthogonal angle to the other table legs. So...., here I was in tight quarters with two brown skinned individuals with a brown particle board table. Just such a coincidence.

Then when I got outside there were two red vehicles posted (parked) outside, a third one with a red colored roof pod, and a fat oaf just "hanging around", this time wearing shorts in his all black getup, including a briefcase slung over his shoulder, on a Sunday no less. My more expanded definition of a MIB is any male in black clothing, and not just the formally dressed strange faced individuals of post UFO visitation lore. The modern MIB often wears black fleece, and often with nylon reinforcement patches on it to offer more energetic variability.

As always, I had my fleet of color coordinated vehicles around me when driving in each direction. It is interesting to note that when I leave my parent's place I usually get at least three dark green vehicles gangstalking me with two minutes of driving, and I can only assume that is because I haven't had recent contact with the dark green office chair that I sit in when at my place. They need a dark green energy interaction response, and don't usually need one when sitting in a same colored chair for much of the day.

At the last concrete building residence, from 05-2005 to 08-2006, I also had a negro gangstalker two doors away, or at least ostensibly so. There were also Asians coming and going when I was next to the door when waiting for the elevator, so it was never clear that there was any single tenant there. And it is the same here; a negro neighbor two doors down "suddenly" appears, when the same apartment was that of an old biddy when she was gangstalking me on moving day in her voluminous burgundy coat. This must be the gangstalker's safe apartment, one used by the entire community to emerge when I "happen" to be in the hallway.

Regular readers will note that such an arrangement was also true for the last residence location, the putative rooming house. In one room, there were at least four gangstalker acts, and they "showed up" within the month, indicating that they weren't new tenants. The rooms were too small to have guests for any length of time. Another room was regularly used as a prop for the male long haired blonde gangstalker/operative, who still "shows up", when he isn't hiding behind a door as he once did. The main glass bottle bashing tenant was limited to two rooms, as indicated by his frequent emerging as I "happened" to be passing by his door. Funny how certain rooms in a building are reserved for a few, or even one gangstalker act, where others are simply for rotating the gangstalker act du jour.

1630h
I had my first hot tea break in weeks a few minutes ago, and has some chocolate to go with it. This digestion period is now the subject of overhead floor pounding, as surely the digestion of brown colored food is one of the more complex situations for the perps to assay the energetic activity. And there has been plenty of outside noise that went quiet for chocolate consumption time, and has now resumed. A big deal for small minds.

1650h
Now the overhead thud with a simultaneous zapping to get me pissed off enough to complain loudly.

Next day; another forced "forget" to post this. Fucking tiresome that I cannot be allowed to access my own, or what would be my own, predilections and habits.