07-01-2012
A laid back Sunday day off, and only until now (1530h) do I feel at a loose end. I got taken down almost immediately after lunch for a two hour nap-attack. I didn't need the sleep at all, but for some reason they wanted me prone and sleeping. And some will say, more psychically accessible too. Could well be as the perps like to time other's in my proximity to having naps.
And then there is the Volvo nonsense witnessed for the second time this week. An 850 sedan was hit from behind and underneath, possibly from a lower bumper, and dented the trunk and raised it up about 3" to 5". They put it on show (parked) when I drive by each day on my way to work, arranging it in profile, seen from the side with the raised (whole) rear trunk. Now it is no question I like the look of that Volvo model, sedan or wagon, and I would of bought one if I could of found one the time I was vehicle shopping in April. But it wasn't to be, a mid-grey Toyota Camry instead and it has done me well so far. Said damaged Volvo was on the vehicular gangstalking circuit this morning when I was headed off for shopping, driveable with its rear trunk damage. All I can assume from this arranged nonsense is that they wanted me to see this particular vehicle with its rear end misaligned, and the whole rear body line out of whack. As for why, I don't know, but the perps consistently test my vehicle form/look reactions, and when a vehicle looks attractive and when not. Of course there are no end of variations, as vehicle models change from year to year, and it does seem they focus on rear end looks of late (the last year). Anyhow, there isn't a Vovlo dealer in town, and not many of them, so it just seems to be this sideline that the perps persist in for whatever reason.
I went to yoga this morning, a drop-in class, and I see they are populating it with more dudes, now four from a previous one. The usual heavy breathing/wheezing dude wasn't in class, but strangely he was walking past carrying his umbrella in the then-torrential rain. It is not uncommon for the perps to plant someone in close and have them progressively back off. I his case it was next to me in the first class, half a room away in the second class, a whole room away in the third, and now, this fourth time, he only passed by the building when I "happened' to arrive.
A new blonde instructor today, in keeping with the perp's instructor swapping games. And the infernal tattos were on display; one particular horrid all-arm and partial torso tattoo on a woman was two persons away. The woman in between us was on partial blocking duty so I wouldn't see this disgusting tattoo in full. The to the L side, the woman next to me had some smaller inside arm tattoos, and a woman four mats away wore a shirt that looked like tattoo patterns (skin color, with deep blue markings on it). Again, we have the perps and their infinite abusive insanity pissing around and setting up tattoos, partially blocking them, and tattoo emulations. All because I don't care for tattoos, and whose business is that? My own one would think, but no, it is a ten year long insane abusive tyranny they have imposed to find ot why I loathe tattoos (among other things).
And speaking of loathings, aka the Unfavored, this one residential block of houses has sprang three HD motorcycles in the last week, all of them on show as some kind of prop the perps want me to see. I don't care for their noise one bit, but for the most part they are arranged for me to see. One overwrought chromed motorcycle, two houses away, was parked on the front yard this morning when I set off for yoga. Presumably it was there all night, as that is where it was last evening. And I know from motorcycle owners that its prominent display is essentially asking for it to be stolen as they are much coveted if in good condition, which this one is. And as the perps have also been insanely beserk over arranging motorcycles around me for over ten years, knowing I loathe the HD noise, why are they doing this? Perhaps if they allowed me to retain the deleted memories they did when aged 2 to 5 y.o., I might know. So on this national Canada Day holiday/long weekend, you are hearby informed that some citizens are not allowed to have recollections as to what abuses (I assume) were done to them. A free country, my ass. And or that matter, perhaps the world.
The new roomie is a 50+ y.o oversized woman doing an internet businesss directory for this city (apparently). And she has wasted no time in hanging around me in the kitchen, "happening" to be there at 0635h when I was there having breakfast. And again when I came back from yoga, the perps conveniently fucking me out of putting my laundry in the dryer before yoga and forcing another kitchen visit. Soo... nothing new there, per expectation.
07-02-2012
A day of tucking shoots on the vineyard; just tucking, not other major work like thining them out, except for the obvious ones. And since then, the perps have been playing flashbacks of shoots in my visual field, about every ten seconds or so. And especially when screaming infuriated at the assholes preventing me from quartering the quesadilla I made for dinner. Not that it was audible, but they had me just as annoyed if I had.
I have been shoot tucking for the past three weeks and never had flashbacks of shoots to any degree until today. Perhaps it was the added harassment that they thought would be a synergistic screwover; read on.
And all day long, the perps played irritable bowel syndrome on me, creating various unpleasant sensations without any visible result. What a way to spend the Monday of a long weekend, equivalent to July 04 in the US. This was relieved at day end by being the "shit refugee" and unloading at the washrooms in the mall. The usual extra gangstalking activity around me, including some dipshit bag who almost piled into me when I was exiting. My "lead me there" gangstalker also "happened" to be ahead of me when I exited. No doubt shit resonance between me and the gangstalker assholes is very much part of the agenda. And too, having me eat extra chocolate these days.
07-03-2012
The daily crumb inundation went over the top this morning. I get crumbs around me all the time, from a putative source, but far in excess of the conventional normal (before all this harassment began). The last roomie was a classic; he had toast most mornings and there were at least 50 crumbs around the toaster. He was engaged with a pissing match with the landlady, so he felt he didn't need to clean them up. And so the sat there all day until the landlady cleaned them up.
Today's crumb-fucking games took on a new turn, as they were teleported in just to bug me. I was at the sink, cleaning dishes and had just finished up when three orange carrot crumbs arrived from nowhere. They were aligned in one direction, roughly N-S, and spanned a length of 1.5". One crumb was on the yellow formica countertop, the middle crumb was on the exact location the steel kitchen sink flange met the countertop, and the third crumb was on the steel sink flange. So here we are, ten years into this insane relentless abuse, and the Fuckwits are arranging carrot crumbs by way of teleportational fuckery. Seemingly, this doesn't bother them one bit, to be viewed as totally idiotic rampaging juveniles with extra conventional powers.
Then the UPS imbroiglio/impasse took another turn; the local UPS store wouldn't take my parcel because it had COD charges on it. Like WTF; they have my parcel, and they would be charging me the COD charges when I pick it up, so what is the deal? I asked where it is and how can I pick it up and the woman UPS representative said she had no idea. I thought Loomis' non-service was outrageous, but this bullshit takes the cake.
And I see that UPS did deliver another separate parcel today, so maybe the perps needed me to go to the brown store to then "resonate with" (for lack of better term) brown cardboard at the UPS store. Or as a "warm up" for my visit to the UPS store tomorrrow, as they gave me the option to pay for the COD charge over the phone, which I did. Which begs the question, why didn't they tell me about this byzantine bureaucracy the first time I asked the parcel be re-directed to the local UPS store? And when I phoned the UPS store in advance of the parcel re-direction, why didn't they ask if there was COD charges on the parcel? All this erupted because the "hold for pickup" choice told me after the fact that the parcel would be held in another city 1.5 hours drive away. Just call it more parcel delivery obstruction, and it may be related to the "browning around" games that have gone on since the start of this abusive fuckery 04-2002.
And when will UPS finally get it, and not go through this ritualistic nonsense of delivering when I know I won't be there to accept it? Have an option when ordering items to permit hold for pickup instead of this constant nonsense of attempting delivery when it is in not doable. I just don't get it, save the "browning around" behavior directed by the perps. And it is always curious that I get extra parcel delivery van gangstalking after each time I recieve a parcel.
07-04-2012
The coffee grounds mess on the stove got me cranked up, though not audibly out of respect(?) for the roommate situation here. I was spooning fresh grounds into the pot, and lo, if somehow, a two pea sized amount didn't self eject from the top of the spoonful and land on the stove. No hand movement of any kind contributed to this near-instant coffee mess, and no shakey hands either. Typically they will force my hand to move as the apparent cause of the coffee mess, but not this time. Just plain assed teleportational abuse.
Another day of tucking vines in the vineyard, just it, and no other activities like shoot thining, leaf removal, lateral removal and top clipping. The sun was out, and eventualy it became warm, though not too warm. We are due for a week of sunshine after a soggy June, running to July 03.
I suppose yesterday's rain was the culmination of perp games, as the rain forced me to use my raingear for the first time in a month, as it had come back from the drycleaner's five days ago, and we know how the perps like to piss with laundering and all its variants. Hopefully the summer will get to normal, though I not optomistic even if they pulled a bad summer last year in this region. Many of the red grape varietals never got picked because they didn't have sufficient sugar.
As a nice send off for the day, the perps ensured I ended up with dog shit on my L.boot, the first 2" toe portion. So another delay in departing, never mind getting the smell jammed up my nose.
Then the now-usual shit-at-the-mall on the way home, me as a shit refugee as they don't like me to do it at home. My shit-stalkers arrived either side of me while in the cubicles, plus other noises. This time I was lead there by two young girls in same blue t-shirt and black short shorts. Much better that the granny parade I seem to get.
07-05-2012
More vine tucking today, and all day. All six acres has been tucked twice now. Sunshine in the am when I had my shirt off, but intermittent in the afternoon when I had my shorts on (shirt on again). Plenty of noise eruptions when I put on sunscreen as usual, and when changing clothes. Yesterday was cleaning day at the house, and at about 1000h when I went to put on shorts, why, egress to the bathroom was blocked by the very large cleaning lady. (Same one who was doing bend-over games about a month ago in similar circumstances). So where to change? Why, outside on the covered veranda area with a commanding view of Skaha Lake and the mountains behind.
And it was my very first day as a "iTune-out", one of those farmworkers (or any person) listening to personal music while working. After the weeks long pissing match to get FLAC files playing on my wretched Android phone, it has finally culminated in playing music while I work. These are over-the-headphones, and so some conflict with wearing a hat too, as yet unresolved. (Worse yet, I could wear a ball cap to have my ears accessible to the headphone. I loathe ear buds). IT wasn't as simple as that of course; two female vocalists were given short play, but the male blues-zydeco singer was given full album length play. And the rotation order was messed up
The vineyard neighborhood noise has taken a new turn. The adjacent larger vineyard has had its equipment shack demolishined, two white shipping containers arranged at roadside for lockable storage, and they are busy putting in foundations and forms. In other words, the very common farm neighborhood noise I call "tap attacks" has semi-legitimate causal. This construction work is the putative reason, but each time I hear the 1x/second tap of a hammer I have to laugh, as what self-respecting builder would be so slow in hammering, and is still using a hammer when air nailers are the construction norm. Yes, I know a hammer can add the right amount of force to move an object (e.g. foundations), but the slow methodical once per second tapping noise has followed me for every farm I have worked in for the last five years. Most often there is no evident construction at all.
Still not out of the Android woods yet; the Songbird player started up by itself when the PowerAmp app was playing. Quite the feat, two music players sounding off at once.
And the essential fatty acids diet testing is still running; after over a month of taking four fish oil capsules at the first break, and four more at lunch, Mon. to Fri., why, the perps had me "forget" all about it when making up lunch this morning. No good habit goes unsabotaged, even if they groom on the habit in the first place.
Stinging eye torture while driving back, causing me to change my intinery. Instead of visiting UPS store to sort out their imposed imbroiglie, I went to the share house to take a shower. When turning off the highway they obliterated my vision for a few seconds and then some horrid indescribable brain scrambling irradiations while turning off the highway. They pulled this abuse sequence once before and all I can say is that is absolutely immobilizing, worse yet, while driving in traffic.
07-06-2012
I am 58 today, and look younger than 38. Lines that formed when I was 33 y.o. are now gone. Most of the age regression was done in 2004, though they have been at it again in the last year.
A hot day on the vineyard, mostly sunny, and maybe summer has come at long last after a double average rainfall for June. I was doing more shoot tucking, putting the shoots between the trellis wires to contain them in a vertical plan. Also called the Vertical Shoot Positioning (VSP) training system, although it requires much human effort to get the shoots vertical, as they are prone to spill and flop in any direction.
I got to listen to music from my Android mostly without a problem, but there has been some unconventional player behavior to keep me wary that it can fuck up at any moment, e.g. getting a new album instead of the next song. Today I was playing the Eva Cassidy playlist I have, some 78 songs that kept me going for much the morning. The perp control drift is that they want me to listen for 2 to 3 hours but not the full work day. This afternoon without the player or headphones they applied the sensation that the headphones were on my head, but they weren't. In other words, they could remotely detect the particular sensation of this new headphone pair (less than a week old) when listening to music, and then replay this identical sensation later when they weren't on my head. All I had to do was to move my head quickly in a (seeming) random direction and the sensation diminished. Once my head was reasonably still again they re-applied this same headphone wearing sensation. A Happy birthday treat from the Psychopathic Confederacy.
Other perp applied BS was to keep me in a depressive state for much of today, and it is still going on. The games of promoting a certain product to purchase and then not finding it continues. For 2.5 years they have on this breakfast diet of coconut butter, which is delicious and beats out the rest of the nut butters combined. Artisana coconut butter is the best IMO, and I have had it on hand all the time, even in this new town. But now two stores are out of it, one with no alternate coconut butter brands. How fucking tiresome they are not only setting me up for the dashed expectations game (item not there), but also manipulating the source of my food supply. Just the usual, and they are still at it in ten years of insane sustained abuse, and a prior 48 years of covert life-long fuckery. What is this all about?
Speaking of which, why are some TI's getting a reprieve from harassment, and even know how long this hiatus will last. I have had the odd reprieve, for a few hours, no more than six times in this wretched existence they have imposed.
I had about 15 helicopter and aircraft flybys today, a little more than usual. To be fair, there is the Penticton Airport two miles away, but at least three aircraft made pointless circles or arcs overhead. They seem to like it that the helicopter underbelly light is on and it "happens" to be seen by me in mid-turn. A small jet came and did a 180 degree turnoverhead and then took off in the direction it came. Most odd to say the least, and it appeared not to be landing at the airport, especially having just come from that direction.
Last week they must of teleported a small aircraft some 200m away; it came out from behind a rocky knoll, not more than 50m clearance, in a climb. The interesting part was pondering how it got there, as there is a powerline behind the knoll. The pilot either took exceptionally foolish chances to make this low pass, or else he and aircraft were teleported at the point of climbing out of this hole behind the knoll. I never heard it coming in behind the knoll, so that is why it was a teleportation job. I see teleported insects, debris, vine leaves and tendrils in front of me all day long, and for the most part I have no idea as to how they got there, or in my way. Or else, they are blanking me out at the moment the object conventionally flips/slides/hops into view, and it appears suddenly to my remotely impaired perception. In fact, I think they are doing some of each, and there is some essential cosmic energetic difference that they are looking for via controlling all my neural cognition.
07-07-2012
A later get-up as it is Saturday, and no vineyard work today. The perps had me tired and in a blue funk yesterday evening, so no plans as to what to do, save a haircut and leg wax this afternoon.
Birthday wishes via phone call from my Victoria farmworker colleague last night; the ever chipper and don't-want-to-know platitudes again. This is the only person who puts themself out to make sustained contact, and it is forced to say the least. There is no way the perps would allow continued contact to persist over 1.5 years without their blessing/collusion. And that starts the guessing games; is she for real (a co-opted local with the right things wrong with them), a scripted operative, or a morphed-over version of someone else I would know, say Ms. C from the story. And as usual, I don't know, and don't care but am not allowed to have the luxury of independent thought, and this wretched unresolvable topic comes up far more than it would if I weren't in the grasp of the techno-Fourth Reich.
Laundry coincidences again; the downstairs tenant has moved out and his bedsheets were laundered by the landlady and draped over the garden chairs in the backyard to dry. And it just happens to be the day that I launder my bedsheets for the first time in this shared residence. And no less, is the inaugural use of a new laundry detergent, somehow "needing" to move away from the usual Woolite.
The haircut and full leg wax treatment again. This time the wax from two blondes; the one last time with a faint-ish unnatural red streak was updated with a 2" wide bold red swath to the roots. The other a seeming trainee was a yellow straw blonde.
The one who cut my hair was a reddish-brown with silver foil in her hair, as part of a treatment she was doing. I have seen it before, but cannot claim to know what it is for. Then three identical colored, sized and built negroes were on the other side of the hair cutting station. First there was one, and he did a pose through the divider in a grey singlet and shorts, and within a minute he seemed to be wearing a yellow top. Unexpected clothing changes aren't anything new to me, and that is what I thought it was. But no, within a minute it was revealed that there were two, with the same hair. Later another same negro "happens" to end up in the pose mode, this time with dreads. The way it seemed it was a triple negro haircut show at the same station. Later, while in the waxing area, they were doing restless full store-width walks for whatever reason. They were there for 40 min. or so, until the three of them walked out in file, identically sized and built, even more than brothers. As to who and why this negro show was arranged I have no idea, but as they are extremely rare here, and were all the same sized and height, I can only assume this was arranged for me to see their colorful outfits at various distances and also through the semi-transparent curtain of the waxing area.
And lo, when I exited the building after my waxing, why, another negro standing around on the sidewalk and looking stupid, as would any highly conspicuous gangstalker. Maybe it was for daylit conditions, and he in the shade of an awning of an abandoned building.
Enough of the Unfavored and and the ridiculous show that continues around me seeming to invoke abreactions that may have arisen in the memory blanked years, aged two to five. Not my problem if I have subconscious recall reactions to adverse treatment and abuse. As mentioned many times, the Indian Lake Project has pictures of children stuffed in cages, some negro, some blind, some Caucasian. The timing of this abuse at the hands of military personnel fits the same memory blanked years, so who knows, but the Perps, aka, Fourth Reich. Not until more of the pics are posted can I hope to know, and that could be a long time yet, given the owner is under surveillance with the black helicopter visitation and a dead rat on his newspaper outside the front door.
So to post this now.
Showing posts with label Volvos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Volvos. Show all posts
Saturday, July 07, 2012
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
Daffodil Day Three + next day revamp
2115h
The infernal sound of motorcycles tonight, at least the fifth went by as I started this blog posting. Earlier, motorcycle noise accompaniement while eating chocolate with my tea.
The maser balls are getting very persistent of late, more like mosquitoes up north, that just keep coming at one.
Daffodil picking started 1.5 hours later than usual, due to frost conditions which freeze the stems solid and make picking problematic. It seemed like another big perp event day today. A nut shave last night usualy brings on the crazy stuff the next day, and it began with the work delay, where I spent 30 minutes in the staff room that was heated. Then the bus driver found me, (har, har) and so it was time to put on my rain clothes, also very good for muddy conditions. And so, with the three E. Indian women who started today, I was driven to the picking fields, where we waited close to an hour. More male banter of course, not to mention a couple of male ponytails for me to be exposed to, fucking disgusting if you as me. But the perp seem to want to expose me to these irregular gender hair and clothes, and all the better if I loathe the sight of them. Or more accurately, before the perps went overt/beserk on me in 04-2002, I really didn't care either way as to if males wore ponytails, and all the rest of the now called Unfavored demographic groups, but since then, the perps have rendered me down into instant dislike mode toward any Unfavored specimen.
I suppose this morning's male banter was to continue with that at the end of the work day yesterday, this over-extended joshing that went on, seemingly much contrived. But I did learn that the Greek army recruiting will go back three generations to determine draft eligibility, and one person recounted how their friend, born to Greek parents in Canada, was pulled off his departing flight and sent into the military even if he spoke no Greek for 18 months of service. One of those interesting factiods that the perps will likely arrange for me to repeat sometime into the future, which is how it usually goes, as information source and retained knowledge is a huge component of their harassment and abuse games, as if 100% remotely applied mind control weren't enough.
Another 315 daffodil bunches picked today, making it a $63 day, not exactly the road to riches, but at least something to do and to keep the cash flow up after the latest plundering by way of PC repairs after the sabotage attacks last month. Plus a new power supply, and all that was good for $450. And I see this PC is slowing down again after last night's CD ripping, only getting two done. On with the PC sabotage show, and I am still getting my Google settings changed on me after each shutdown, and the same for my saved tabs on start-up getting removed, and forcing log-ins each time I start this machine up. Freaking tedious.
And I finally noticed, or more like it, the perps reminded me, that there was an inordinant number of produce trucks and prepared (ie. cut up) produce trucks driving near the daffodil farm property yesterday, and too, "happening" to be frequent in parking or driving the roads on my morning walk to the bus stop. So now, I get it, sort of; having me cut daffodil stems for a living also has some kind of common energetic properties with cutting food up, plant material as well. And accordingly, I did some research on plants, and that they have a means to communicate with each other, and act as biosensors in effect. And this site (Randall Fontes) isn't the best for a logical presentation, but is readable enough to convey the ideas of there being an energetic medium whereby plants can actually communicate with humans, and vice versa. The perps had me read the book, The Secret LIfe of Plants, by Tompkins and Bird back in 2003, and it was very readable and objective. It is most interesting that these revolutionary experiments are parked and nearly forgotten, even if this book stayed on the NY Times bestseller list at length. And Sir Jagadish Chandra Bose was also prominent in his day of researching plant communications, and that plants feel pain, though all too typically, it wasn't widely followed or researched since. He also detected EMF signals from plants in his radio wave studies.
Three long paragraphs got lopped off and I am screaming pissed that I spent 30 minutes putting this together and got screwed again. And in it I did say in it that I am so fucking fed up with the escalated sabotage that I don't want to be around when it gets any worse. Being at the end of one's tether for 8.5 years is enough. I am blogging off and am totally infuriated that this diumbshit Blogspot/Perp Front didn't save my work.
Next Day Rewrite;
What was I mentioning that was so important that it got deleted? Was it the turban setup at the end of the work day yesterday? One non-turbaned E. Indian, one smooth turbaned (pale blue) E. Indian, and then another with a more ragged edged turban (light blue and white). The backstory being that three E. Indian women joined the daffodil picking crew yesterday, all long time pickers, and ones that I met last year. And I suppose, the three variations on E. Indian head wear was that these were the three spouses coming by to pick up their mates from the returning crew bus. Well I suppose, but given that the perps having me loathe the sight of turbans and nearly all head adornments, hoodies especially of late, I reckon they were doing a "turban test" on me just as I exited the crew bus.
But no such excuse for the Volvo vehicle carrier truck making a corner at Fort and Douglas streets, the heart of downtown and near my bus stop at 0720h. A full tractor-trailer load of Volvo vehicles was at least one mile from the Volvo dealership and headed in the wrong direction altogether. So what was it doing there if it wasn't gangstalking? As a background on this, the perps had me owning and driving a Volvo 245 from 1991 to 2006 until I had to give it away, being made too broke to keep it. So... it would seem there is some kind of Volvo steel (and other materials) interaction that the perps were testing, and that they wanted a bulk lot of new ones, without the engines running, and some stacked, as it was a two deck car carrier. I cannot count the number of vehicles that "happen" to be towed or else carried on the one vehicle tow-carriers in my proximity, but every so often the perps need to run a car carrier worth of new vehicles past me. They had me in a car dealership part-time cleaning job from 12-2008 to 08-2009, though not Volvos. I suppose it is as close to owning a new vehicle that I will get, for whatever that benefits the sickos.
Other perp jerkarounds was a blatant case of pit-lamping me at the bus stop yesterday; some asshole pulls some 60' away off to the side of the road and leaves his headlights on, trained on me. Not even the usual bullshit excuse of reading a map or some such, just blatant headlight stalking. It doesn't get too much more obvious, but the pit-lamping, or "brighting" some TI's call it, has increased of late. And if a vehicle has only one headlamp working I can be sure it is trained on me alone, whether driving or as a pedestrian.
Another jerkaround was the pre-maturely soured milk; the Best-Before-Date was Feb. 14, and it was off on Feb.08. Then I went to the local supermarket to get groceries, "forgetting" the milk. The same deal the next evening of Feb. 09, when I had a shorter list, though with some distractions, and yet again "forgot" the milk. I was royally pissed as I don't forget these kinds of things on my own. And now, Feb. 10, they let me get the milk, but it alone, and not in a grocery bag. I got the final stare from the cashier, much like I did earlier today when at the bank, getting rolls of coins. WTF; the same stare at the same moment in the transaction for the same duration.
The infernal sound of motorcycles tonight, at least the fifth went by as I started this blog posting. Earlier, motorcycle noise accompaniement while eating chocolate with my tea.
The maser balls are getting very persistent of late, more like mosquitoes up north, that just keep coming at one.
Daffodil picking started 1.5 hours later than usual, due to frost conditions which freeze the stems solid and make picking problematic. It seemed like another big perp event day today. A nut shave last night usualy brings on the crazy stuff the next day, and it began with the work delay, where I spent 30 minutes in the staff room that was heated. Then the bus driver found me, (har, har) and so it was time to put on my rain clothes, also very good for muddy conditions. And so, with the three E. Indian women who started today, I was driven to the picking fields, where we waited close to an hour. More male banter of course, not to mention a couple of male ponytails for me to be exposed to, fucking disgusting if you as me. But the perp seem to want to expose me to these irregular gender hair and clothes, and all the better if I loathe the sight of them. Or more accurately, before the perps went overt/beserk on me in 04-2002, I really didn't care either way as to if males wore ponytails, and all the rest of the now called Unfavored demographic groups, but since then, the perps have rendered me down into instant dislike mode toward any Unfavored specimen.
I suppose this morning's male banter was to continue with that at the end of the work day yesterday, this over-extended joshing that went on, seemingly much contrived. But I did learn that the Greek army recruiting will go back three generations to determine draft eligibility, and one person recounted how their friend, born to Greek parents in Canada, was pulled off his departing flight and sent into the military even if he spoke no Greek for 18 months of service. One of those interesting factiods that the perps will likely arrange for me to repeat sometime into the future, which is how it usually goes, as information source and retained knowledge is a huge component of their harassment and abuse games, as if 100% remotely applied mind control weren't enough.
Another 315 daffodil bunches picked today, making it a $63 day, not exactly the road to riches, but at least something to do and to keep the cash flow up after the latest plundering by way of PC repairs after the sabotage attacks last month. Plus a new power supply, and all that was good for $450. And I see this PC is slowing down again after last night's CD ripping, only getting two done. On with the PC sabotage show, and I am still getting my Google settings changed on me after each shutdown, and the same for my saved tabs on start-up getting removed, and forcing log-ins each time I start this machine up. Freaking tedious.
And I finally noticed, or more like it, the perps reminded me, that there was an inordinant number of produce trucks and prepared (ie. cut up) produce trucks driving near the daffodil farm property yesterday, and too, "happening" to be frequent in parking or driving the roads on my morning walk to the bus stop. So now, I get it, sort of; having me cut daffodil stems for a living also has some kind of common energetic properties with cutting food up, plant material as well. And accordingly, I did some research on plants, and that they have a means to communicate with each other, and act as biosensors in effect. And this site (Randall Fontes) isn't the best for a logical presentation, but is readable enough to convey the ideas of there being an energetic medium whereby plants can actually communicate with humans, and vice versa. The perps had me read the book, The Secret LIfe of Plants, by Tompkins and Bird back in 2003, and it was very readable and objective. It is most interesting that these revolutionary experiments are parked and nearly forgotten, even if this book stayed on the NY Times bestseller list at length. And Sir Jagadish Chandra Bose was also prominent in his day of researching plant communications, and that plants feel pain, though all too typically, it wasn't widely followed or researched since. He also detected EMF signals from plants in his radio wave studies.
Three long paragraphs got lopped off and I am screaming pissed that I spent 30 minutes putting this together and got screwed again. And in it I did say in it that I am so fucking fed up with the escalated sabotage that I don't want to be around when it gets any worse. Being at the end of one's tether for 8.5 years is enough. I am blogging off and am totally infuriated that this diumbshit Blogspot/Perp Front didn't save my work.
Next Day Rewrite;
What was I mentioning that was so important that it got deleted? Was it the turban setup at the end of the work day yesterday? One non-turbaned E. Indian, one smooth turbaned (pale blue) E. Indian, and then another with a more ragged edged turban (light blue and white). The backstory being that three E. Indian women joined the daffodil picking crew yesterday, all long time pickers, and ones that I met last year. And I suppose, the three variations on E. Indian head wear was that these were the three spouses coming by to pick up their mates from the returning crew bus. Well I suppose, but given that the perps having me loathe the sight of turbans and nearly all head adornments, hoodies especially of late, I reckon they were doing a "turban test" on me just as I exited the crew bus.
But no such excuse for the Volvo vehicle carrier truck making a corner at Fort and Douglas streets, the heart of downtown and near my bus stop at 0720h. A full tractor-trailer load of Volvo vehicles was at least one mile from the Volvo dealership and headed in the wrong direction altogether. So what was it doing there if it wasn't gangstalking? As a background on this, the perps had me owning and driving a Volvo 245 from 1991 to 2006 until I had to give it away, being made too broke to keep it. So... it would seem there is some kind of Volvo steel (and other materials) interaction that the perps were testing, and that they wanted a bulk lot of new ones, without the engines running, and some stacked, as it was a two deck car carrier. I cannot count the number of vehicles that "happen" to be towed or else carried on the one vehicle tow-carriers in my proximity, but every so often the perps need to run a car carrier worth of new vehicles past me. They had me in a car dealership part-time cleaning job from 12-2008 to 08-2009, though not Volvos. I suppose it is as close to owning a new vehicle that I will get, for whatever that benefits the sickos.
Other perp jerkarounds was a blatant case of pit-lamping me at the bus stop yesterday; some asshole pulls some 60' away off to the side of the road and leaves his headlights on, trained on me. Not even the usual bullshit excuse of reading a map or some such, just blatant headlight stalking. It doesn't get too much more obvious, but the pit-lamping, or "brighting" some TI's call it, has increased of late. And if a vehicle has only one headlamp working I can be sure it is trained on me alone, whether driving or as a pedestrian.
Another jerkaround was the pre-maturely soured milk; the Best-Before-Date was Feb. 14, and it was off on Feb.08. Then I went to the local supermarket to get groceries, "forgetting" the milk. The same deal the next evening of Feb. 09, when I had a shorter list, though with some distractions, and yet again "forgot" the milk. I was royally pissed as I don't forget these kinds of things on my own. And now, Feb. 10, they let me get the milk, but it alone, and not in a grocery bag. I got the final stare from the cashier, much like I did earlier today when at the bank, getting rolls of coins. WTF; the same stare at the same moment in the transaction for the same duration.
Monday, March 05, 2007
Room Pounding Again
1145h
After a lazy day yesterday (no blog) I am back at my room/abode in this putative rooming house, and am suffering the noise and vibration of a serial herd of operatives egressing the building by slamming the front door (everytime) and that serves at the excuse for "causal" in shaking this room/ It continues every 2 to 3 minutes, back to the frat house analogy. This room shaking spell has being going on for 20 minutes now, and I surmise that the entire population of this place (~16) has turned over at least once. The reality is that I am likely the only one who actually lives here, which would make it the same as the last location, an apartment block of 140 units on 10 floors, and the place was largely absent of tenants. This became even more clear when there was an 0400h fire alarm, and there really wasn't many residents out there on the street.
I spent the night at my parents' place, being the target of their gangstalking behaviors and routines, and with my father's pathetic dementia act, he gets excused for all kinds of bizarre behavior. Last night he was on lean-forward duty, a move long witnessed by me in the gangstalking community, and reserved usually when they are seated, and lean forward, stretching their spine for some reason related to energetics study. And true to form, each time he leaned forward a maser beam would emanate from the wall, cross the space between his back and the chair, and hit me, though thankfully, there was no impact felt. There were plenty of other plasma and masers flitting about, as well as my parents wandering in front of the TV, itself a source of magnetic radiation. And the usual hand waving and gesticulating and having their hands cross in front of their faces.
More typo assault, time to end this for now.
1415h
The noise flurries ended for an all-quiet order when I was making and eating lunch, especially when I ate a large slice of brown chocolate cake that was left over from my mother's birthday five days ago. Not that I gave her a call or a card or anything, she being the lead in serving me up for this incessant purgatory.
The hallway spraying of putative air freshener stunt just erupted in this suddenly all-quiet house. And I did not blog my early Sunday morning events, where I was awakened for the usual overhead clunking and squeaking, and additonal hallway egress, sometime around 0500h. One of the added extras then, as usually it is only the overhead clunking that I get, was the hallway air freshener sprayed at that time. More of the patently absurd, that anyone would be doing that activity at that time of day, let alone the "spray from the doorway" habit that it has lapsed into.
Other than that, an all-quiet order has gone out, and the usual creepiness, possibly a planted notion, has arisen. I have been severely creeped out in the past, and I could never figure this out until the mind-control possibility was made apparent.
1620h
The glass bashing act now continues outside, at some distance away, and I assume, is a method of correlating inside energies and detecting the same ones outside. It is all very complicated, and I am usually noisestalked and/or gangstalked anytime I enter or exit a building.
1640h
The flip-flop walk noise has been going on since I moved in, and for some reason the operative is pacing back and forth, and could well be the putative manager of this supposed rooming house. It is a noise that has always got on my nerves, and having only 2' outside my door suggests that someone knows that, and is giving me the shiv. Nothing new there, as so much of the harassment has to do with presenting favored and unfavored noises, sights, colors, beings, objects, personal comportment etc. Very often there will be a rash of Volvos around me, which was the make of my vehicle until I gave it up last year. Yesterday, when leaving driving my parents' Ford Escape, the perps put on a Volvo 245 driving by, another one turning in mid-street temporarily preventing egress, and a third parked on the street, closest to the intersection I stopped at. All this in less than 50' of road, and 30 seconds duration. What is the perps' problem?
1720h
And still the flip-flop noise continues, as the make-me-nuts annoyance of the afternoon. The pre-dinnertime period is one that attracts plenty of noisestalking as I surmise all my digestive activity is over, and now the perps can chase the energetics of neural activity with less energy noise, especially those that are sensitized by external aural events. The backbeat noise combination is one that has been chasing me for years now; adding a quieter beat onto the initial beat.
1900h
Another rile-me-up time making and eating dinner, and even doing the dishes is a pain as the perps remotely interfere with my grasp, and won't let me hang onto things in a secure manner. They need to screw me over that, and not just once. This time it is the new frypan; they won't allow it to be grasped in a normal manner and somehow mash my fingers into it, or over it. They have had the same perverse habit of preventing me from grasping the soap bottle, the same kind and color I have been using for over four years.
The assholes also flew the olive oil bottle off the fridge and onto the floor, though no spillings or breakage, and this is the third time this has "happened" in this residence. Past blogs have detailed the perp's olive oil obsession and how they constantly noisestalk me pouring it into the frypan, and on one occasion, pulled a newly purchased bottle from my hands and smashed it on the ashphalt to create an oil slick there for the remainder of my tenancy. This sick minded intrusion and defilement covers everything I do, and yet they won't show their gutless faces to expedite their sick-minded quests.
1925h
I am getting the continuous fart harassment, where it goes on for an hour or more, usually timed to outside regular noises of vehicles engines trailing off in the distance, all noisy and/or loud mufflered ones of course.
Then if that weren't enough, the fruit fly from nowhere arrives and dances about in my view, in front of this LCD display, and somehow manages to remain uncaught, when I rarely miss. Some more overhead pounding starts up, as I suspect this is a big moment while I digest the last of the brown chocolate cake after dinner, in the intensively perp stalked dusk onset period.
The perps are sending in brown colored Volvo 245's to gangstalk me these days, and there must be some kind of progress in their color fuckery games that permit this, as they never did before. And I have done the brown vehicle ownership thing in the long past, a VW Westphalia (camper van), one of my ex-wife's fuckup ideas that had more to it than I realized at the time. The engine burned out, then it would stall out at a certain point of warmness and was a regular at the shop. Even the warrantied parts didn't last the duration and had to be replaced. It was the last time I owned a VW, and that was 1983 or so, and I haven't had the inclination to consider one since, even though their vehicles are much different now. And the owners of the current model Jetta's really like them, but given that I do not have the financial resources to run a vehicle, all of them are off the table.
1950h
And continued voice-morphing all day today; a different sound of voice everytime I say something out loud, and often when I am reduced to hissing at the perps, as they are controlling my inclination to scream at their continued juvenile stunts.
2015h
And all-quiet order has gone out, and with the exception of the glass bottle bashing activity that just erupted, the perps seem to be deep into their noise abeyance period.
2200h
Some relative quiet over the past hour, save the fart harassment (remote invocation). And as an update on the toilet games, I was treated to another toilet incident at my parents' place yesterday. Their massive old-style water wasting and always dependable toilet "somehow" couldn't take all that I supplied it with, which was an small load by my standards. Five flushes later, and at least two plungings, the water would flow out when flushed, but "somehow" there was this one chunk with attached toilet paper resisted this torrent, and kept coming back, almost like a cork. And so it was that my mother "happened" to hear me swearing at the depraved sickos who fuck with every shit I take (again), and "offered help". That is, read gangstalking with me and the plunger in the close quarters of this bathroom, and this residual lump that defied both gravity and conventional hydrodynamics. Then one more plunging, and it went away. The story on this was that it was an orchestrated First Feral Family gangstalking of my shit in the toilet, and with the plunger in hand.
I cannot begin to describe how utterly pissed I am at not being able to take a shit with the certainty of it being an innocuous experience like it is for most people. I am forced to plunge toilets, take showers to clean up, have soiled underwear nearly every time, all because of some sick minded gutless and depraved assholes have some kind of bent mission where my personal circumstances are immaterial to their venal objectives. And they won't show up to account for this humiliating intrusion into my personal life, and continue to trash my existance by remote means. And worse yet, they created the neural/psychic/color problem through their own bloody minded stupidity by way of traumatizations thay they incurred in my developmental years. The perps' problem with shit, brown and everthing related to it IS NOT MY PROBLEM. So why am I being relentlessly harassed over it? I want a fucking answer.
And as I typed that rant, I got the squeaking stalk, the putative floorboards noise again, just outside my door. So much for privacy, and it is likely all of the above rant was supplied by mind control, as there wasn't any noisestalking until "I" finished the last of the paragraph.
Enough thought work for tonight, assuming that I did the thinking and not the actuation of planted thoughts and actions.
After a lazy day yesterday (no blog) I am back at my room/abode in this putative rooming house, and am suffering the noise and vibration of a serial herd of operatives egressing the building by slamming the front door (everytime) and that serves at the excuse for "causal" in shaking this room/ It continues every 2 to 3 minutes, back to the frat house analogy. This room shaking spell has being going on for 20 minutes now, and I surmise that the entire population of this place (~16) has turned over at least once. The reality is that I am likely the only one who actually lives here, which would make it the same as the last location, an apartment block of 140 units on 10 floors, and the place was largely absent of tenants. This became even more clear when there was an 0400h fire alarm, and there really wasn't many residents out there on the street.
I spent the night at my parents' place, being the target of their gangstalking behaviors and routines, and with my father's pathetic dementia act, he gets excused for all kinds of bizarre behavior. Last night he was on lean-forward duty, a move long witnessed by me in the gangstalking community, and reserved usually when they are seated, and lean forward, stretching their spine for some reason related to energetics study. And true to form, each time he leaned forward a maser beam would emanate from the wall, cross the space between his back and the chair, and hit me, though thankfully, there was no impact felt. There were plenty of other plasma and masers flitting about, as well as my parents wandering in front of the TV, itself a source of magnetic radiation. And the usual hand waving and gesticulating and having their hands cross in front of their faces.
More typo assault, time to end this for now.
1415h
The noise flurries ended for an all-quiet order when I was making and eating lunch, especially when I ate a large slice of brown chocolate cake that was left over from my mother's birthday five days ago. Not that I gave her a call or a card or anything, she being the lead in serving me up for this incessant purgatory.
The hallway spraying of putative air freshener stunt just erupted in this suddenly all-quiet house. And I did not blog my early Sunday morning events, where I was awakened for the usual overhead clunking and squeaking, and additonal hallway egress, sometime around 0500h. One of the added extras then, as usually it is only the overhead clunking that I get, was the hallway air freshener sprayed at that time. More of the patently absurd, that anyone would be doing that activity at that time of day, let alone the "spray from the doorway" habit that it has lapsed into.
Other than that, an all-quiet order has gone out, and the usual creepiness, possibly a planted notion, has arisen. I have been severely creeped out in the past, and I could never figure this out until the mind-control possibility was made apparent.
1620h
The glass bashing act now continues outside, at some distance away, and I assume, is a method of correlating inside energies and detecting the same ones outside. It is all very complicated, and I am usually noisestalked and/or gangstalked anytime I enter or exit a building.
1640h
The flip-flop walk noise has been going on since I moved in, and for some reason the operative is pacing back and forth, and could well be the putative manager of this supposed rooming house. It is a noise that has always got on my nerves, and having only 2' outside my door suggests that someone knows that, and is giving me the shiv. Nothing new there, as so much of the harassment has to do with presenting favored and unfavored noises, sights, colors, beings, objects, personal comportment etc. Very often there will be a rash of Volvos around me, which was the make of my vehicle until I gave it up last year. Yesterday, when leaving driving my parents' Ford Escape, the perps put on a Volvo 245 driving by, another one turning in mid-street temporarily preventing egress, and a third parked on the street, closest to the intersection I stopped at. All this in less than 50' of road, and 30 seconds duration. What is the perps' problem?
1720h
And still the flip-flop noise continues, as the make-me-nuts annoyance of the afternoon. The pre-dinnertime period is one that attracts plenty of noisestalking as I surmise all my digestive activity is over, and now the perps can chase the energetics of neural activity with less energy noise, especially those that are sensitized by external aural events. The backbeat noise combination is one that has been chasing me for years now; adding a quieter beat onto the initial beat.
1900h
Another rile-me-up time making and eating dinner, and even doing the dishes is a pain as the perps remotely interfere with my grasp, and won't let me hang onto things in a secure manner. They need to screw me over that, and not just once. This time it is the new frypan; they won't allow it to be grasped in a normal manner and somehow mash my fingers into it, or over it. They have had the same perverse habit of preventing me from grasping the soap bottle, the same kind and color I have been using for over four years.
The assholes also flew the olive oil bottle off the fridge and onto the floor, though no spillings or breakage, and this is the third time this has "happened" in this residence. Past blogs have detailed the perp's olive oil obsession and how they constantly noisestalk me pouring it into the frypan, and on one occasion, pulled a newly purchased bottle from my hands and smashed it on the ashphalt to create an oil slick there for the remainder of my tenancy. This sick minded intrusion and defilement covers everything I do, and yet they won't show their gutless faces to expedite their sick-minded quests.
1925h
I am getting the continuous fart harassment, where it goes on for an hour or more, usually timed to outside regular noises of vehicles engines trailing off in the distance, all noisy and/or loud mufflered ones of course.
Then if that weren't enough, the fruit fly from nowhere arrives and dances about in my view, in front of this LCD display, and somehow manages to remain uncaught, when I rarely miss. Some more overhead pounding starts up, as I suspect this is a big moment while I digest the last of the brown chocolate cake after dinner, in the intensively perp stalked dusk onset period.
The perps are sending in brown colored Volvo 245's to gangstalk me these days, and there must be some kind of progress in their color fuckery games that permit this, as they never did before. And I have done the brown vehicle ownership thing in the long past, a VW Westphalia (camper van), one of my ex-wife's fuckup ideas that had more to it than I realized at the time. The engine burned out, then it would stall out at a certain point of warmness and was a regular at the shop. Even the warrantied parts didn't last the duration and had to be replaced. It was the last time I owned a VW, and that was 1983 or so, and I haven't had the inclination to consider one since, even though their vehicles are much different now. And the owners of the current model Jetta's really like them, but given that I do not have the financial resources to run a vehicle, all of them are off the table.
1950h
And continued voice-morphing all day today; a different sound of voice everytime I say something out loud, and often when I am reduced to hissing at the perps, as they are controlling my inclination to scream at their continued juvenile stunts.
2015h
And all-quiet order has gone out, and with the exception of the glass bottle bashing activity that just erupted, the perps seem to be deep into their noise abeyance period.
2200h
Some relative quiet over the past hour, save the fart harassment (remote invocation). And as an update on the toilet games, I was treated to another toilet incident at my parents' place yesterday. Their massive old-style water wasting and always dependable toilet "somehow" couldn't take all that I supplied it with, which was an small load by my standards. Five flushes later, and at least two plungings, the water would flow out when flushed, but "somehow" there was this one chunk with attached toilet paper resisted this torrent, and kept coming back, almost like a cork. And so it was that my mother "happened" to hear me swearing at the depraved sickos who fuck with every shit I take (again), and "offered help". That is, read gangstalking with me and the plunger in the close quarters of this bathroom, and this residual lump that defied both gravity and conventional hydrodynamics. Then one more plunging, and it went away. The story on this was that it was an orchestrated First Feral Family gangstalking of my shit in the toilet, and with the plunger in hand.
I cannot begin to describe how utterly pissed I am at not being able to take a shit with the certainty of it being an innocuous experience like it is for most people. I am forced to plunge toilets, take showers to clean up, have soiled underwear nearly every time, all because of some sick minded gutless and depraved assholes have some kind of bent mission where my personal circumstances are immaterial to their venal objectives. And they won't show up to account for this humiliating intrusion into my personal life, and continue to trash my existance by remote means. And worse yet, they created the neural/psychic/color problem through their own bloody minded stupidity by way of traumatizations thay they incurred in my developmental years. The perps' problem with shit, brown and everthing related to it IS NOT MY PROBLEM. So why am I being relentlessly harassed over it? I want a fucking answer.
And as I typed that rant, I got the squeaking stalk, the putative floorboards noise again, just outside my door. So much for privacy, and it is likely all of the above rant was supplied by mind control, as there wasn't any noisestalking until "I" finished the last of the paragraph.
Enough thought work for tonight, assuming that I did the thinking and not the actuation of planted thoughts and actions.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
An EarlyStart
0925h
A earlier start for harassment today, replete with smell up my nose as I type this. These come from nowhere, though it is the smell odf the cleaning solution used in the next door bathroom, I was in there earlier, and it was not this strong. It maybe the hint for me to open the window, as most communications from the perps are oblique; hints, planted reactions etc.
I am getting more stroboscopic assaults of late; first thing when I was up there were at least three annoying strobe in my face, under the cover story of errant reflections. If that is the case, why are there so many now, and none before the harassment started?
And a very predictable rotation of vehicles and their respective colors occured outside this morning, and the "chocolate stalking" is now becoming 100% coincident when I eat this prescribed food. That is, being noisestalked while I eat chocolate, though of late, it is nearly always someone taking a coincident shower in the next door bathroom, only 3 to 4' away, through the wall, marked up with the usually maser concentrating markings, akin to pencil.
More nightime awakenings to be thoughtstalked by the upstairs "goings on", which are 100% coincident. And, I never awakened in my sleep before, and it is not the aforementioned noise, as it follows my thoughts at that time, it does not wake me up. Funny that I was unable to state this to the doctor who was looking to get some kind of clinical angle on "sleeping better". Any doctor who tells me that he has "brain lubrication" medication is a nutter IMHO. And of course he is the lynchpin in the entire cascade of benefits and subsidies. And to cast himself in this light (again), he resorted to this pathetic metaphor last week, probably for air time only, as we have had frank conversations as to how simplistic and misleading his model is, especially with the medication on offer. Then he brings it up again.
And as I type that I am getting more overhead creakings and floor poundings after an extended run-up of coughing and hacking, again forced and obviously protracted. Plus, the assholes make me cranked up about this, when in fact, if I was allowed to have an unfettered reaction, I wouldn't give a shit.
And on the visual front, where the news websites are displaying more human faces, or portions thereof, there is a decided shift to cast them with a differing cast of colors; red, yellow, greenish, darkened (low contrast), purpled, browned etc. All this in Caucasion faces, then again with other races. And if I delete a web site from my Bookmarks as it is getting too spoofed, why it shows up again, and "I" have somehow forgetten how visually odious it is, only to have the image flashed in my face again. And often, the perps will augment the news with animal images and especially those of chimps and gorillas for some kind of test/elicitation of reaction and/or associated energetics.
It is a long way of saying, that the visual processing and associated energetics of faces is not my problem so why should I be constantly fucked with and experimented upon? And as I type that stock phrase, as series of squeakings and front door slammings erupted from a serial herd of operatives moving through this putative rooming house. All else is quiet; the all-quiet order has gone out, and this must be prime time for remote assay operations. Maybe I should eat something to piss them off.
1050h
The usual noise flurries of hallway tromping, front door slamming, room shaking, sudden squeak noises ("door hinges"), coughing and hacking, forced as it is (four months of not getting better), outside loud mufflered vehicles, . And of course, constant maser and plasma action in my field of view, another game that doesn't get the write ups it deserves owing to its ubiquity.
1315h
This is the post lunch and post yoga period, though I cannot profess to know why these two are back to back events. Yoga had six women and me, a similar statistic to when I was doing cardio and aerobic exercises in Everett when I lived there. The men are doing gangstalking outside, walking back and forth in black clothing, and even black hoodies. Later, they put a man in white out there, as one of the seeming cooking staff that works in the commercial kitchen next door. And the visible street parking is duly arranged, deep green and deep red vehicle in view. The room is full of masers and plasma beams, and the perps even put a dark green beam over my bare foot as I was looking at it, presumably to simulate the green veins in it. Anyhow, I like the class, or at least am controlled to like it, as I cannot tell the difference anymore.
And I note, the ever increasing streetsweeping was also undertaken on one side of the throughfare I cross to get to yoga. This is an almost daily situation where the perps arrange streetsweeping on my walking route. And it was a daytime streetsweeping, around parked vehicles, and it is most strange as it is normally an early morning event, before vehicles are parked in any number.
The class is a one minute commute from my room, although crossing a busy thoroughfare, busier for the bidirectional trains of coordinated gangstalking vehicles, as there is no north/south commute in this city, or at least, along Cook St. And in that minute, they had two Volvo 245's on me; one (metallic gold colored) making a right turn in front of me, and a second one (burgundy colored) making a midstreet turn beside me as I was entering this putative rooming house. And it so happened that I had a gold colored Budda figure in my hand, as it was a gift from the instructor who was to have her last day today, but her plans changed. Whether that was for real or not I don't know, but it was interesting that the perps have me tell my mother this last night as I she was offering a lunch today, and I told her that I needed to go to yoga in order to find out what the disposition for the class was going to be. All these dovetailing plans and feints.
The perps have been planting more burgundy vehicles around me I note; the first thing this morning they turned a burgundy colored trades van under my window, had the scarlet shirted driver get out for no reason, get back in, make extra passes at turning around, and then took off, parking nowhere in this neighborhood. Within five minutes, a metallic copper colored vehicle came to park in this same parking lot, outside my window. And there has been more of these of late, and there also is a drive to have me see copper colored objects, e.g. CPU coolers and the like.
1445h
After some herd movement of the operatives/gangstalkers they went quiet for a while. Then keychain jingling becomes vogue suddenly, and then the next four hallway passers-by "happen" to all be doing this. It is amazing how this "group behavior" can become so quickly changed.
1500h
An overhead pounding erupted when the image of Halle Berry as Catwoman was displayed. There is no question the perps plant provocative images on me, and for a four month duration, they had me staying up to 0200h on porn viewing, something I haven't done before or since. It serves to remind me how much I wasn't able to control these planted "needs". All too funny from the perp side, and that planted behavoir is rich with possibilities to fuck someone over.
And some recent news that Canada is joining the US in military like behavior; a US AWOL soldier in Nelson BC, a location I lived for three years, got word from the US Army to capture this individual and put him in jail for a non extradictable offense. Since when do these clowns have a new supervisor south of the border?
1515h
And the second I start printing a single page, the first in weeks, the assholes pull a suck job outside my door. That is a vacuum cleaner, and with any luck, they will suck up those four white pieces of plastic outside my door that are self-aligning each day. Four in file today, yesterday, three in file with one orthogonal piece. And I am getting typo fucked for that, time to stop for a while.
1900h
A 75 minute nap was ordered and I duly succumbed until 1715h when a screaming kid outside woke me up.
And the perps decided to kill the frypan tonight; the handle was manipulated with some clicking sounds at lunch time, though only one of six spot welds had given out after I took the handle apart to have a look. But at dinner time, just as I was finishing drying it, the handle "let go" and all the spot welds went at once, and even leaving the frypan with holes in it. I was especially pissed as I have had it for 30 years nearly and it has never given any problem. And besides, it has a copper bottom that evens out the heat real evenly, and never spot burns.
So it would seem, there is something about the frypan that the perps cannot account for in their energetics harassment, so they decided it had to go. This has occured for a teapot, a coffee maker, two pairs of shoes (08-2006), two PC hard drives of widely differing parentage and age (02-2007) and many others. I have been using this frypan daily for the past 5 years, and now they decide they cannot "handle it". Which tells me, if that represents their progress, they have at least another year of harassment and torture lined up.
1915h
The perps put a sharp head pain into me for a minute, no doubt timed for the absurd regular closing of vehicle doors in the adjacent parking lot, and the assemblage of youths yapping it up for some reason outside my window. Fucking bizarre why anyone would hang out there.
2050h
A peaceful spell and then some belt buckle jingling outside my door, then the room shake once the operative had exited.
And three rounds of firecrackers erupted in the past 10 minutes; at this time of year without a celebration in sight, the firecracker management fuckery has started up again.
2130h
The nearby glass bashing act has started up again; there is no reason for this to occur. If the cover story of a street garbage collector is meant to be kept, then why is he hancling his glass bottles at this time, when all recycling operations would be closed?
It is all part of the iterations of noise and vibration and their possible contribution to remote energetics assay, particular to those that involve my brain in real time.
2135h
A series of squeaks from the hallway has erupted, all without any associated personnel action, but this is nothing new. All events are getting less credible, and more are unattributable, bizarre and over the top. A read of past blogs should confirm that, though it is an activity I never seem to do, save the labelling of all blogs, that is, keywording each 2007 blog.
2220h
More firecrackers tonight, and one just a minute ago, timed to me noticing some spoofing of this blog. Then more overhead squeaking erupts.
Time to blog off, and not feed this idiot show any longer
A earlier start for harassment today, replete with smell up my nose as I type this. These come from nowhere, though it is the smell odf the cleaning solution used in the next door bathroom, I was in there earlier, and it was not this strong. It maybe the hint for me to open the window, as most communications from the perps are oblique; hints, planted reactions etc.
I am getting more stroboscopic assaults of late; first thing when I was up there were at least three annoying strobe in my face, under the cover story of errant reflections. If that is the case, why are there so many now, and none before the harassment started?
And a very predictable rotation of vehicles and their respective colors occured outside this morning, and the "chocolate stalking" is now becoming 100% coincident when I eat this prescribed food. That is, being noisestalked while I eat chocolate, though of late, it is nearly always someone taking a coincident shower in the next door bathroom, only 3 to 4' away, through the wall, marked up with the usually maser concentrating markings, akin to pencil.
More nightime awakenings to be thoughtstalked by the upstairs "goings on", which are 100% coincident. And, I never awakened in my sleep before, and it is not the aforementioned noise, as it follows my thoughts at that time, it does not wake me up. Funny that I was unable to state this to the doctor who was looking to get some kind of clinical angle on "sleeping better". Any doctor who tells me that he has "brain lubrication" medication is a nutter IMHO. And of course he is the lynchpin in the entire cascade of benefits and subsidies. And to cast himself in this light (again), he resorted to this pathetic metaphor last week, probably for air time only, as we have had frank conversations as to how simplistic and misleading his model is, especially with the medication on offer. Then he brings it up again.
And as I type that I am getting more overhead creakings and floor poundings after an extended run-up of coughing and hacking, again forced and obviously protracted. Plus, the assholes make me cranked up about this, when in fact, if I was allowed to have an unfettered reaction, I wouldn't give a shit.
And on the visual front, where the news websites are displaying more human faces, or portions thereof, there is a decided shift to cast them with a differing cast of colors; red, yellow, greenish, darkened (low contrast), purpled, browned etc. All this in Caucasion faces, then again with other races. And if I delete a web site from my Bookmarks as it is getting too spoofed, why it shows up again, and "I" have somehow forgetten how visually odious it is, only to have the image flashed in my face again. And often, the perps will augment the news with animal images and especially those of chimps and gorillas for some kind of test/elicitation of reaction and/or associated energetics.
It is a long way of saying, that the visual processing and associated energetics of faces is not my problem so why should I be constantly fucked with and experimented upon? And as I type that stock phrase, as series of squeakings and front door slammings erupted from a serial herd of operatives moving through this putative rooming house. All else is quiet; the all-quiet order has gone out, and this must be prime time for remote assay operations. Maybe I should eat something to piss them off.
1050h
The usual noise flurries of hallway tromping, front door slamming, room shaking, sudden squeak noises ("door hinges"), coughing and hacking, forced as it is (four months of not getting better), outside loud mufflered vehicles, . And of course, constant maser and plasma action in my field of view, another game that doesn't get the write ups it deserves owing to its ubiquity.
1315h
This is the post lunch and post yoga period, though I cannot profess to know why these two are back to back events. Yoga had six women and me, a similar statistic to when I was doing cardio and aerobic exercises in Everett when I lived there. The men are doing gangstalking outside, walking back and forth in black clothing, and even black hoodies. Later, they put a man in white out there, as one of the seeming cooking staff that works in the commercial kitchen next door. And the visible street parking is duly arranged, deep green and deep red vehicle in view. The room is full of masers and plasma beams, and the perps even put a dark green beam over my bare foot as I was looking at it, presumably to simulate the green veins in it. Anyhow, I like the class, or at least am controlled to like it, as I cannot tell the difference anymore.
And I note, the ever increasing streetsweeping was also undertaken on one side of the throughfare I cross to get to yoga. This is an almost daily situation where the perps arrange streetsweeping on my walking route. And it was a daytime streetsweeping, around parked vehicles, and it is most strange as it is normally an early morning event, before vehicles are parked in any number.
The class is a one minute commute from my room, although crossing a busy thoroughfare, busier for the bidirectional trains of coordinated gangstalking vehicles, as there is no north/south commute in this city, or at least, along Cook St. And in that minute, they had two Volvo 245's on me; one (metallic gold colored) making a right turn in front of me, and a second one (burgundy colored) making a midstreet turn beside me as I was entering this putative rooming house. And it so happened that I had a gold colored Budda figure in my hand, as it was a gift from the instructor who was to have her last day today, but her plans changed. Whether that was for real or not I don't know, but it was interesting that the perps have me tell my mother this last night as I she was offering a lunch today, and I told her that I needed to go to yoga in order to find out what the disposition for the class was going to be. All these dovetailing plans and feints.
The perps have been planting more burgundy vehicles around me I note; the first thing this morning they turned a burgundy colored trades van under my window, had the scarlet shirted driver get out for no reason, get back in, make extra passes at turning around, and then took off, parking nowhere in this neighborhood. Within five minutes, a metallic copper colored vehicle came to park in this same parking lot, outside my window. And there has been more of these of late, and there also is a drive to have me see copper colored objects, e.g. CPU coolers and the like.
1445h
After some herd movement of the operatives/gangstalkers they went quiet for a while. Then keychain jingling becomes vogue suddenly, and then the next four hallway passers-by "happen" to all be doing this. It is amazing how this "group behavior" can become so quickly changed.
1500h
An overhead pounding erupted when the image of Halle Berry as Catwoman was displayed. There is no question the perps plant provocative images on me, and for a four month duration, they had me staying up to 0200h on porn viewing, something I haven't done before or since. It serves to remind me how much I wasn't able to control these planted "needs". All too funny from the perp side, and that planted behavoir is rich with possibilities to fuck someone over.
And some recent news that Canada is joining the US in military like behavior; a US AWOL soldier in Nelson BC, a location I lived for three years, got word from the US Army to capture this individual and put him in jail for a non extradictable offense. Since when do these clowns have a new supervisor south of the border?
1515h
And the second I start printing a single page, the first in weeks, the assholes pull a suck job outside my door. That is a vacuum cleaner, and with any luck, they will suck up those four white pieces of plastic outside my door that are self-aligning each day. Four in file today, yesterday, three in file with one orthogonal piece. And I am getting typo fucked for that, time to stop for a while.
1900h
A 75 minute nap was ordered and I duly succumbed until 1715h when a screaming kid outside woke me up.
And the perps decided to kill the frypan tonight; the handle was manipulated with some clicking sounds at lunch time, though only one of six spot welds had given out after I took the handle apart to have a look. But at dinner time, just as I was finishing drying it, the handle "let go" and all the spot welds went at once, and even leaving the frypan with holes in it. I was especially pissed as I have had it for 30 years nearly and it has never given any problem. And besides, it has a copper bottom that evens out the heat real evenly, and never spot burns.
So it would seem, there is something about the frypan that the perps cannot account for in their energetics harassment, so they decided it had to go. This has occured for a teapot, a coffee maker, two pairs of shoes (08-2006), two PC hard drives of widely differing parentage and age (02-2007) and many others. I have been using this frypan daily for the past 5 years, and now they decide they cannot "handle it". Which tells me, if that represents their progress, they have at least another year of harassment and torture lined up.
1915h
The perps put a sharp head pain into me for a minute, no doubt timed for the absurd regular closing of vehicle doors in the adjacent parking lot, and the assemblage of youths yapping it up for some reason outside my window. Fucking bizarre why anyone would hang out there.
2050h
A peaceful spell and then some belt buckle jingling outside my door, then the room shake once the operative had exited.
And three rounds of firecrackers erupted in the past 10 minutes; at this time of year without a celebration in sight, the firecracker management fuckery has started up again.
2130h
The nearby glass bashing act has started up again; there is no reason for this to occur. If the cover story of a street garbage collector is meant to be kept, then why is he hancling his glass bottles at this time, when all recycling operations would be closed?
It is all part of the iterations of noise and vibration and their possible contribution to remote energetics assay, particular to those that involve my brain in real time.
2135h
A series of squeaks from the hallway has erupted, all without any associated personnel action, but this is nothing new. All events are getting less credible, and more are unattributable, bizarre and over the top. A read of past blogs should confirm that, though it is an activity I never seem to do, save the labelling of all blogs, that is, keywording each 2007 blog.
2220h
More firecrackers tonight, and one just a minute ago, timed to me noticing some spoofing of this blog. Then more overhead squeaking erupts.
Time to blog off, and not feed this idiot show any longer
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Operatives Herding
1615h
In fact, they are frequently engaging in serial arrivals or departures like a frat house with classes on the go. Each time the front door gets slammed/closed, this room shakes 20' away, and as I typed that, the overhead pounding started up again.
Earlier, there had been a 25 minute run-up of the aforementioned egress noise plus voice noise from both outside and inside this seeming rooming house, and then the pounding began. This time, the perps made me/let me yell at them for doing this, and the noisestalking continued for another five minutes, and then all was quiet until I was eating chocolate (read brown colored food- perp obsession). The the overhead pounding started up again until I had finished the dishes. They also scripted an extra runny nose before I started the dishes and I was obliged to clean it up with kitchen paper. Once the dishes were done, the overhead pounding stopped until now, 20 minutes later.
All the above mentioned run-up of noise was coincidental with me reading my new book, Suburban Spies, which is the story of a business excutive being harassed and followed, as well as having his own words repeated back to him, by individuals who weren't party to the conversation. Anyhow, I was hoping to read it through, but the perp script was to pound the ceiling and have me change my activity in an attempt to end that ruckus. It worked, but only until I did something else that they sought to noisestalk, that being tea and chocolate consumption.
I will supply a review of this book when I finish it, but clearly it is the case of yet another person being hounded by organized parties with similar methods as I experience. Put that in your clinical hat you sickos that hound me/lie to me over medical reasons.
The ambient light has been manipulated constantly while eating and digesting the tea and chocolate. Regular readers will know that the perps have an obsessional fixation with the brown color in all its presentations, and that is in addition to their other color games over deep red, deep green with typically white, black and silver grey as adjunctive reference colors.
I got my fill of specific colored vehicles as I walked 20 minutes each way to Trafford Books to pick up the above title; this is a on-demand printing company is well established with a huge selection of titles. There are at least three titles in reference to Einstein and did he get relativity wrong. From what I have read, and experience, he either didn't go far enough, or didn't want the hoi polloi (every day folk) to know. And there is a huge gapping hole between classical physics and quantum physics, and many hundreds of unifying theories. The two web sites on the right are two of the better theories, though Bearden is a tough read, but his physical descriptions and predictions fit the harassment profile of application of extra-conventional physical forces that are controllable from a distance. And that includes time reversals, age regression, which is what they did to me, although I don't complain about that very often as vanity prevails.
It was a 20 minute in-city walk crossing four thoroughfares in town, and as I walked along the last arterial street, there was a red or deep metallic red vehicle coming from a side street, either in front of me, or behind me, for four side streets in succession. The habit of stopping one's vehicle at an intersection in the crosswalk is still as ubiquitous as ever, and stopping over top of the broad white stop line is almost mandatory for the shills to collect their vehicular gangstalking pay it seems. Never have I seen such mass rebuking of the traffic laws on this side of the continent, not even in LA.
Deep metallic red color vehicles was also the theme at my Government House wildlands restoration activity this morning; in the car lot next to the tool shed, of the closest 8 vehicles, six were deep red (no scarlet reds) and the other two were black and white. Of the eight, four were Volvos of varying model type; a 240, 740, 850 and the V70. When I got back, there were even more Volvos surrounding the tool shed, but less red vehicles. Past readers will know that I had a silver grey Volvo for 15 years before I gave it to my daughter (who hasn't used it yet) for financial reasons.
I don't have any particular theory as to why the perps prefer me, and my vehicular gangstalkers, to drive Volvos, though I do note they also supply Saabs as well in undue proportions. So it would seem, that there is a distinctive electromagnetic and/or energetic signature of the Swedish steel, that the sickos like to monitor. For the last 12 years of being married , we each owned a Volvo 245; mine was silver grey, and hers was.... you guessed it.... brown (!).
More vehicular gangstalkers are stopping nearby me, parking, and usually open their doors and trunks than ever before. Today, while walking to the day center to marshall for the wildlands restoration activity, the sickos set up two identical Post Office vehicles (red, navy blue and white) on a back residental street to be contra-turning (concentric arcs in opposite direction, e.g a vehicle turning left and another, 90 degrees offset, turning right, making the same arc in opposite directions). As one was backing up, it apparently collided with a pole to get out of the other's way. Then he proceeded forward to made the turn, enough for the other vehicle to get by, and then stopped in the middle of the intersection to get out and "look" at what possible damage he did. This was all about getting maximum color-vehicle action (backing up and contra-turning), then getting out with the vehicle-color body energetics (my theory as to why they like to walk perps through my vacated parking stall), and having me walk by the driver to determine our mutal energetics interaction. I did recognize the driver from past gangstalkings, but I did not know him from Before Overt Harassment (04-2002, BOH) days. Though the driver could of been a morph-over of someone I knew, which I suspect is common as that offers more specific energetics interaction possibilities.
1925h
I am getting noisestalked again, down to every last mouse click and anything I might say, instignated by the noise in the first place. A never ending cycle of noise intrusion based on the smallest of actions; turning out the halogen light, mouse clicking, swearing at their noise and coincident zappings etc. There is no human behavior explanation for the timing and nature of the noise, which is just like the last "upstairs neighbor", which past readers will recall my interpretation as a projected noise incursion. Not only that, the same noises have tracked me for all of my apartments with overhead neighbors since BOH, now three of the last three. (Of the apartment with no upstairs neighbors, I had loud downstairs "neighbors" that the manager also heard but didn't do anything about). Fucking sick, that is all I get all day, and no reprieve.
1935h
Another round of earmuff fucking; I put them on so to not hear the rumblings overhead, and then they shoot louder noise through the earmuffs of the same annoying kind. And as I now have them sitting in front of me (of green plastic construction), the operatives have herded downstairs outside my room and next door for their token bathroom visitation of standing there, and flushing the toilet without benefit of using it. Just like always, they come to flush it only.
Now, ass jabbing as I read a specific number; what it the matter with the sickos tonight?
2025h
Earmuffs are back on, and still the assholes are pumping somenoise through; they are still on their obsession withn noisestalking the word "the". Nearly five years over this alone.
2035h
More overhead pounding through the earmuffs; do I put them on or off? Which has the angle that the assholes are hoping to exploit?
2055h
More transitory vision impairments, one after the other and in concert with the overhead clunking. The long standing practice of starting to cough, even if a blatant put-on, right outside my door, is part of tonight's harassment scene. The overhead squeaking, without earmuffs, continues. The PC, in its newfound oscillating fan like noise, is layered into the noisescape as well.
I am also getting the bimonthly planted notion that they are "imminently ceasing harassment operations", but it is my belief that they are only getting started with 100% mind control to be attained sometime this month. Past readers will note that these planted "cessation" notions has occured before, and the result is the same, I am being harassed all the more.
And more noisestalking timed to specific keystrokes; they either force a typo repair or a short stun-out, so that I expend more effort on this single character/keystroke, and then they pounce with an overhead noise. Fucking depraved and truly gutless that they won't represent themselves face to face. They have every advantage in the world, what is their problem, why are they so relentlessly sick?
And more reading perturbations; the assholes redirect my attention and/or cause it to wane (by remotely applied means) such that I don't get to read what I want, with my own intention, if there is such a thing. Or is it another piss-off among many tonight to keep me cranked up and using interrogative sentences, like this?
2210h
More intermittent overhead pounding over the last hour or so. Now a siren noise and coinicident vision fuckery, masers and plasma games are constant.
And another website on gangstalking, though it seems to be corrupted in some way, as the links are inactive (or my version is). My case manager attempted to plant some doubt as to whether I am being gangstalked, so this one is for her. Here it is. Another one, if the links are broken is: http://www.gangstalking.ca/. Read it and tell me it isn't happening.
And look at this, a list of gangstalking sites at Whosarat. And again, eat this from a Google search; 18,400 English pages for gangstalking.
It is fucking absurd I cannot engage anyone in a genuine dialog over this, with some TI exceptions. This is on par with Holocaust deniers, that is the extremeness of their position; this means family, doctors, health professionals and all the other assholes who contribute to this Potemkin village, with me as the centerpiece about which this depravity hinges.
Enough venom spilled tonight, but that is the nature of being under noise assaults and the rest of it, tempers get real short real fast. And the above perp helpers know it too, as they never make another reference to any of my blowups or logical arguements for that matter. I am blogging off before I short circuit over another typo, as there has been far too many.
In fact, they are frequently engaging in serial arrivals or departures like a frat house with classes on the go. Each time the front door gets slammed/closed, this room shakes 20' away, and as I typed that, the overhead pounding started up again.
Earlier, there had been a 25 minute run-up of the aforementioned egress noise plus voice noise from both outside and inside this seeming rooming house, and then the pounding began. This time, the perps made me/let me yell at them for doing this, and the noisestalking continued for another five minutes, and then all was quiet until I was eating chocolate (read brown colored food- perp obsession). The the overhead pounding started up again until I had finished the dishes. They also scripted an extra runny nose before I started the dishes and I was obliged to clean it up with kitchen paper. Once the dishes were done, the overhead pounding stopped until now, 20 minutes later.
All the above mentioned run-up of noise was coincidental with me reading my new book, Suburban Spies, which is the story of a business excutive being harassed and followed, as well as having his own words repeated back to him, by individuals who weren't party to the conversation. Anyhow, I was hoping to read it through, but the perp script was to pound the ceiling and have me change my activity in an attempt to end that ruckus. It worked, but only until I did something else that they sought to noisestalk, that being tea and chocolate consumption.
I will supply a review of this book when I finish it, but clearly it is the case of yet another person being hounded by organized parties with similar methods as I experience. Put that in your clinical hat you sickos that hound me/lie to me over medical reasons.
The ambient light has been manipulated constantly while eating and digesting the tea and chocolate. Regular readers will know that the perps have an obsessional fixation with the brown color in all its presentations, and that is in addition to their other color games over deep red, deep green with typically white, black and silver grey as adjunctive reference colors.
I got my fill of specific colored vehicles as I walked 20 minutes each way to Trafford Books to pick up the above title; this is a on-demand printing company is well established with a huge selection of titles. There are at least three titles in reference to Einstein and did he get relativity wrong. From what I have read, and experience, he either didn't go far enough, or didn't want the hoi polloi (every day folk) to know. And there is a huge gapping hole between classical physics and quantum physics, and many hundreds of unifying theories. The two web sites on the right are two of the better theories, though Bearden is a tough read, but his physical descriptions and predictions fit the harassment profile of application of extra-conventional physical forces that are controllable from a distance. And that includes time reversals, age regression, which is what they did to me, although I don't complain about that very often as vanity prevails.
It was a 20 minute in-city walk crossing four thoroughfares in town, and as I walked along the last arterial street, there was a red or deep metallic red vehicle coming from a side street, either in front of me, or behind me, for four side streets in succession. The habit of stopping one's vehicle at an intersection in the crosswalk is still as ubiquitous as ever, and stopping over top of the broad white stop line is almost mandatory for the shills to collect their vehicular gangstalking pay it seems. Never have I seen such mass rebuking of the traffic laws on this side of the continent, not even in LA.
Deep metallic red color vehicles was also the theme at my Government House wildlands restoration activity this morning; in the car lot next to the tool shed, of the closest 8 vehicles, six were deep red (no scarlet reds) and the other two were black and white. Of the eight, four were Volvos of varying model type; a 240, 740, 850 and the V70. When I got back, there were even more Volvos surrounding the tool shed, but less red vehicles. Past readers will know that I had a silver grey Volvo for 15 years before I gave it to my daughter (who hasn't used it yet) for financial reasons.
I don't have any particular theory as to why the perps prefer me, and my vehicular gangstalkers, to drive Volvos, though I do note they also supply Saabs as well in undue proportions. So it would seem, that there is a distinctive electromagnetic and/or energetic signature of the Swedish steel, that the sickos like to monitor. For the last 12 years of being married , we each owned a Volvo 245; mine was silver grey, and hers was.... you guessed it.... brown (!).
More vehicular gangstalkers are stopping nearby me, parking, and usually open their doors and trunks than ever before. Today, while walking to the day center to marshall for the wildlands restoration activity, the sickos set up two identical Post Office vehicles (red, navy blue and white) on a back residental street to be contra-turning (concentric arcs in opposite direction, e.g a vehicle turning left and another, 90 degrees offset, turning right, making the same arc in opposite directions). As one was backing up, it apparently collided with a pole to get out of the other's way. Then he proceeded forward to made the turn, enough for the other vehicle to get by, and then stopped in the middle of the intersection to get out and "look" at what possible damage he did. This was all about getting maximum color-vehicle action (backing up and contra-turning), then getting out with the vehicle-color body energetics (my theory as to why they like to walk perps through my vacated parking stall), and having me walk by the driver to determine our mutal energetics interaction. I did recognize the driver from past gangstalkings, but I did not know him from Before Overt Harassment (04-2002, BOH) days. Though the driver could of been a morph-over of someone I knew, which I suspect is common as that offers more specific energetics interaction possibilities.
1925h
I am getting noisestalked again, down to every last mouse click and anything I might say, instignated by the noise in the first place. A never ending cycle of noise intrusion based on the smallest of actions; turning out the halogen light, mouse clicking, swearing at their noise and coincident zappings etc. There is no human behavior explanation for the timing and nature of the noise, which is just like the last "upstairs neighbor", which past readers will recall my interpretation as a projected noise incursion. Not only that, the same noises have tracked me for all of my apartments with overhead neighbors since BOH, now three of the last three. (Of the apartment with no upstairs neighbors, I had loud downstairs "neighbors" that the manager also heard but didn't do anything about). Fucking sick, that is all I get all day, and no reprieve.
1935h
Another round of earmuff fucking; I put them on so to not hear the rumblings overhead, and then they shoot louder noise through the earmuffs of the same annoying kind. And as I now have them sitting in front of me (of green plastic construction), the operatives have herded downstairs outside my room and next door for their token bathroom visitation of standing there, and flushing the toilet without benefit of using it. Just like always, they come to flush it only.
Now, ass jabbing as I read a specific number; what it the matter with the sickos tonight?
2025h
Earmuffs are back on, and still the assholes are pumping somenoise through; they are still on their obsession withn noisestalking the word "the". Nearly five years over this alone.
2035h
More overhead pounding through the earmuffs; do I put them on or off? Which has the angle that the assholes are hoping to exploit?
2055h
More transitory vision impairments, one after the other and in concert with the overhead clunking. The long standing practice of starting to cough, even if a blatant put-on, right outside my door, is part of tonight's harassment scene. The overhead squeaking, without earmuffs, continues. The PC, in its newfound oscillating fan like noise, is layered into the noisescape as well.
I am also getting the bimonthly planted notion that they are "imminently ceasing harassment operations", but it is my belief that they are only getting started with 100% mind control to be attained sometime this month. Past readers will note that these planted "cessation" notions has occured before, and the result is the same, I am being harassed all the more.
And more noisestalking timed to specific keystrokes; they either force a typo repair or a short stun-out, so that I expend more effort on this single character/keystroke, and then they pounce with an overhead noise. Fucking depraved and truly gutless that they won't represent themselves face to face. They have every advantage in the world, what is their problem, why are they so relentlessly sick?
And more reading perturbations; the assholes redirect my attention and/or cause it to wane (by remotely applied means) such that I don't get to read what I want, with my own intention, if there is such a thing. Or is it another piss-off among many tonight to keep me cranked up and using interrogative sentences, like this?
2210h
More intermittent overhead pounding over the last hour or so. Now a siren noise and coinicident vision fuckery, masers and plasma games are constant.
And another website on gangstalking, though it seems to be corrupted in some way, as the links are inactive (or my version is). My case manager attempted to plant some doubt as to whether I am being gangstalked, so this one is for her. Here it is. Another one, if the links are broken is: http://www.gangstalking.ca/. Read it and tell me it isn't happening.
And look at this, a list of gangstalking sites at Whosarat. And again, eat this from a Google search; 18,400 English pages for gangstalking.
It is fucking absurd I cannot engage anyone in a genuine dialog over this, with some TI exceptions. This is on par with Holocaust deniers, that is the extremeness of their position; this means family, doctors, health professionals and all the other assholes who contribute to this Potemkin village, with me as the centerpiece about which this depravity hinges.
Enough venom spilled tonight, but that is the nature of being under noise assaults and the rest of it, tempers get real short real fast. And the above perp helpers know it too, as they never make another reference to any of my blowups or logical arguements for that matter. I am blogging off before I short circuit over another typo, as there has been far too many.
Sunday, January 21, 2007
A Volvo Day
1340h
A 10 hour "sleep", only two hours more than the nominal normal (Before Overt Harassment, BOH). And an awakening to hear the putative neighbor coughing away, which will no doubt turn into a series for each hour of the night. I don't know when it was, but someone made sure I was to hear it when in BOH days I would of slept through it no problem. And as I stumble through that, at least three loud mufflered vehicles transited by for extra noisestalking.
After two shut-in days, I was allowed out to get groceries, and of course, walk the gangstalk gauntlet. Only two deep metallic red vehicles with one white one was lined up on the first leg, and darned if they didn't put a mobile red and white vehicle between them and me when out on the street. The gangstalk action was moderate, and this was unexpected, but I don't really care all that much.
The perps are still into their games of darkening down faces; if the gangstalker has a peaked hat, or unbrella, they will darken the shadows substanially. This might be part of the black and brown skinned races members they selectively place near me on most gangstalking sorties. Today, I only got an native Indian woman, only one block from my place. What that means I don't know, perhaps a last desperation move.
No Globe and Mail newspaper was allowed today, all sold out again. There is this on-off obsession the perps have with me reading the newspaper; sometimes once a week for a few weeks, then no more for a while, Though I am allowed to read them at my parents when I visit, usually Sundays (later today). Go figure.
More room shaking, hallway tromping.
1455h
The tin can rattling act has started up in the hallway, almost as good as a recycling depot in one's neighborhood. (Been there, done that).
The drummer's group has also started up nearby for this pre-tea and chocolate time, one of the perps' obsessions as to why I don't mind chocolate, but cannot stand the color brown. Not my problem, why am I being harassed over it?
No power washing today; most strange. But more room shaking and front door noise; an operative herd is on the move again.
1540h
The tea and chocolate event is over; a Volvo 245 in an inky metallic blue came beneath my window for the event. A dark brown Volvo 245 also came for a short turnaround visit. A herd of at least four gangstalkers went up and down the stairs, and were surely dressed like clowns in yellow, purple and red. A male pony hair act was also running up and down the stairs on the opposite building outside. It seems this was all over loading up the Volvo wagon as it was gone by the time that I had a look again. The glass bottle bashing act erupted the second I put the first piece of chocolate in my mouth, and continued for the duration of eating that first piece. And the only time it has been busy outside was earlier with the two pickup truck acts, one being brown. More go figure.
The perps planted two parked Volvo wagons on my route this morning, a V70 and a 850 predecessor model, both station wagons. On the Volvo design front, the 850 (1993 to 2000) became the V (2001 and on) series, and then, they decided that this wasn't "interesting" enough and then in 2002 they "jelly-beaned" them with recessed side panels and other swoopy styling. The Volvo V70's then looked as if someone had booted the side doors in; not what I would pay for in a new car. And so it seems that the perps planted the two Volvo 245 successor models (above) without the booted in side panel look. Call it the vehicular equivalent to the blonde's "auric goodness".
But it follows the pattern of having something of aesthetic interest, and then fucking it up, almost purposely. It seems that the Audis are having a turn at this, another vehicle lineup I think are mostly attractive until 2007 model year. They created a gaping big hole where the front grille is to make it look more aggressive. And so, it is the 2007 Audi model year that looks as if it were purposely fucked with to look ugly from the front. Which really makes me wonder how the perps pull off messing with automotive design which takes a lead time of at least three years and access to the design studios and the executives that make the decisions. I have no idea, and it just maybe a genuine happenchance event, though based on my experience/trials, there is no such word.
The glass bashing act has returned, and has lasted (so far) for 20 minutes. All those past crockery smashing events at resturants comes to mind as likely planted events for creating torsional energies. Why anyone would play with glass bottles for that long is a total mystery. The story of returning them is getting a little thin, as he never takes them in for money, curiously.
01-22-2007
1240h
I am back from a night at my parents' and the usual Feral Family gangstalking fuckery that goes on. It isn't all them though, the TV is plenty glitchy and extra pixellated with a few blackouts with sound only.
My parents came by at ~1600h, and I met them in the adjacent parking lot outside. When I got out there, a light metallic brown Volvo 245 was pulling a U turn in the middle of the road and parking on the curb closest to my parents' vehicle at the parking lot driveway. And it so happens their Ford Escape is a similar light metallic brown, though with a darker tone than the Volvo. And I usually drive my parents' vehicle for them, which I did. As I was turning onto the street, exiting the parking lot, the driver of the light brown Volvo 745 was standing at her vehicle, door open, and was precisely aligned with another driver, two car lengths ahead, also standing at his vehicle with the door open as well. And his vehicle? Why, a deep metallic red Volvo V70 station wagon. (I formerly owned a silver grey Volvo 245 until 06-2006 when I gave it to my daughter)
So here we have two Volvo station wagon drivers doing the identical activity, standing at their vehicles, and where I "happened" to stop before entering the street, they were lined up one in front of the other. Which suggests some kind of chromatic glow must be visible to the perps, and they wanted to see their combined effect (aligned) and separately, as I drove past them having just got into the driver's seat of a light brown metallic Ford Escape . Fucking amazing.
Later, going back to my parents' place, there were two Volvos side by side at the lead of the stopped vehicles at an intersection where I turned in front of them.
I am getting extreme typing sabotage, time to post.
A 10 hour "sleep", only two hours more than the nominal normal (Before Overt Harassment, BOH). And an awakening to hear the putative neighbor coughing away, which will no doubt turn into a series for each hour of the night. I don't know when it was, but someone made sure I was to hear it when in BOH days I would of slept through it no problem. And as I stumble through that, at least three loud mufflered vehicles transited by for extra noisestalking.
After two shut-in days, I was allowed out to get groceries, and of course, walk the gangstalk gauntlet. Only two deep metallic red vehicles with one white one was lined up on the first leg, and darned if they didn't put a mobile red and white vehicle between them and me when out on the street. The gangstalk action was moderate, and this was unexpected, but I don't really care all that much.
The perps are still into their games of darkening down faces; if the gangstalker has a peaked hat, or unbrella, they will darken the shadows substanially. This might be part of the black and brown skinned races members they selectively place near me on most gangstalking sorties. Today, I only got an native Indian woman, only one block from my place. What that means I don't know, perhaps a last desperation move.
No Globe and Mail newspaper was allowed today, all sold out again. There is this on-off obsession the perps have with me reading the newspaper; sometimes once a week for a few weeks, then no more for a while, Though I am allowed to read them at my parents when I visit, usually Sundays (later today). Go figure.
More room shaking, hallway tromping.
1455h
The tin can rattling act has started up in the hallway, almost as good as a recycling depot in one's neighborhood. (Been there, done that).
The drummer's group has also started up nearby for this pre-tea and chocolate time, one of the perps' obsessions as to why I don't mind chocolate, but cannot stand the color brown. Not my problem, why am I being harassed over it?
No power washing today; most strange. But more room shaking and front door noise; an operative herd is on the move again.
1540h
The tea and chocolate event is over; a Volvo 245 in an inky metallic blue came beneath my window for the event. A dark brown Volvo 245 also came for a short turnaround visit. A herd of at least four gangstalkers went up and down the stairs, and were surely dressed like clowns in yellow, purple and red. A male pony hair act was also running up and down the stairs on the opposite building outside. It seems this was all over loading up the Volvo wagon as it was gone by the time that I had a look again. The glass bottle bashing act erupted the second I put the first piece of chocolate in my mouth, and continued for the duration of eating that first piece. And the only time it has been busy outside was earlier with the two pickup truck acts, one being brown. More go figure.
The perps planted two parked Volvo wagons on my route this morning, a V70 and a 850 predecessor model, both station wagons. On the Volvo design front, the 850 (1993 to 2000) became the V (2001 and on) series, and then, they decided that this wasn't "interesting" enough and then in 2002 they "jelly-beaned" them with recessed side panels and other swoopy styling. The Volvo V70's then looked as if someone had booted the side doors in; not what I would pay for in a new car. And so it seems that the perps planted the two Volvo 245 successor models (above) without the booted in side panel look. Call it the vehicular equivalent to the blonde's "auric goodness".
But it follows the pattern of having something of aesthetic interest, and then fucking it up, almost purposely. It seems that the Audis are having a turn at this, another vehicle lineup I think are mostly attractive until 2007 model year. They created a gaping big hole where the front grille is to make it look more aggressive. And so, it is the 2007 Audi model year that looks as if it were purposely fucked with to look ugly from the front. Which really makes me wonder how the perps pull off messing with automotive design which takes a lead time of at least three years and access to the design studios and the executives that make the decisions. I have no idea, and it just maybe a genuine happenchance event, though based on my experience/trials, there is no such word.
The glass bashing act has returned, and has lasted (so far) for 20 minutes. All those past crockery smashing events at resturants comes to mind as likely planted events for creating torsional energies. Why anyone would play with glass bottles for that long is a total mystery. The story of returning them is getting a little thin, as he never takes them in for money, curiously.
01-22-2007
1240h
I am back from a night at my parents' and the usual Feral Family gangstalking fuckery that goes on. It isn't all them though, the TV is plenty glitchy and extra pixellated with a few blackouts with sound only.
My parents came by at ~1600h, and I met them in the adjacent parking lot outside. When I got out there, a light metallic brown Volvo 245 was pulling a U turn in the middle of the road and parking on the curb closest to my parents' vehicle at the parking lot driveway. And it so happens their Ford Escape is a similar light metallic brown, though with a darker tone than the Volvo. And I usually drive my parents' vehicle for them, which I did. As I was turning onto the street, exiting the parking lot, the driver of the light brown Volvo 745 was standing at her vehicle, door open, and was precisely aligned with another driver, two car lengths ahead, also standing at his vehicle with the door open as well. And his vehicle? Why, a deep metallic red Volvo V70 station wagon. (I formerly owned a silver grey Volvo 245 until 06-2006 when I gave it to my daughter)
So here we have two Volvo station wagon drivers doing the identical activity, standing at their vehicles, and where I "happened" to stop before entering the street, they were lined up one in front of the other. Which suggests some kind of chromatic glow must be visible to the perps, and they wanted to see their combined effect (aligned) and separately, as I drove past them having just got into the driver's seat of a light brown metallic Ford Escape . Fucking amazing.
Later, going back to my parents' place, there were two Volvos side by side at the lead of the stopped vehicles at an intersection where I turned in front of them.
I am getting extreme typing sabotage, time to post.
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