2025h
The gangstalker show wasn't too freakish today on the city bus. I had a weird at the bus stop keep rubbing his head and making funny faces and even came out of the bus shelter to be closer to me. Then I moved another 10' away. The red and white Coca-cola gangstalker truck was outside the bus stop, a putative delivery despite no deliveryman or associated activity. This is the same truck that "happens" to show up parked on my walking routes, outside my doctor's office, parked at a gas station for outbound and inbound travelling, at least three hours apart and a few more odd appearences that don't come to mind. All that red and white metal panels covering a brown beverage. Much like the rage-ification fuckover games when applying peanut butter and then jam to toast for breakfast.
Some five minutes into the bus trip a seeming herd of high school students boarded the bus and lo, if the sole negro didn't end up beside me in the back full-width seat. And she liked to wave her arms plenty too. Other brown skinned creatures also moved in and out in rotation, eventually building up to a hispanic looking man in a deep red shirt. There were no end of working age dudes on the bus, and it has never been explained to me why there are all there at 1100h instead of at day jobs. I don't expect an answer to that anytime soon. I rang the bell for getting off the bus, pulling on my immediate right side, and lo, if the negro woman didn't get up to let me out of my seat. As in, how did she know I rang the bus cord as she couldn't of seen me do it? Anyhow, I get these and plenty of other mysterious events in any given day, and I am sure that my perception of all these is highly managed, noting the incremental mind-fuck games that have progressively sapped my cognitive abilities in the last few years.
The perps had me get up at 1000h this morning at my perp-abetting parent's place, making for a 11 hour sleep which is at least three hours longer than normal. I get the sense the get-up time is more about shaping the rest of the morning, as in insufficient time to do any gardening work. And too, there wasn't anything too compelling since the weed re-growth was abated with weed whacking and herbicide.
Though it was an earlier visitation time yesterday, and I was employed for 1.5 hours in building a bamboo frame for the runner beans. I got jerked with the notion of drilling holes in the raised bed and got my drill box out from the crawl space. Only to "find out" (again) that some asshole has stolen my drill, and that the same asshole fucked me out out of remembering that when it first happened about two months ago. I don't forget that shit, ever, especially when something gets stolen, and so it was another never-before recall fuckover stunt. No doubt it was all about having me go through the same process of "discovery" of theft when outside the house in the sun, as opposed to inside the house like the first time. Such things make a huge difference to the assholes. As well, wearing my tan-through shirt while outside, though no tanning took place I learned this morning. I am not surprised. Again, the nature of sunlight upon one's skin is a huge subject of perp research and attendent fuckery.
My mother and I got my father from the old folk's hospital for the afternoon; I don't like hospitals or anything about them, so this exercise must serve some perp purpose, as have past imposed visitations. And lo, if there wasn't an attractive blonde woman in a short skirt on her cell phone at the entrance, loitering there while my mother did the sign-in. Regular readers will know that attractive blonde women are placed as some kind of entre, aka introductory gangstalker, before the rest of the unkempt gangstalker scum surface in the same vicinity. And this would of been my third visit to this location, and I suppose in perp-think, I was due to be given the eye-candy before the wheelchairs and other loathesome devices surface in number.
The perps had me all whacked-out over the 60 Minutes stories last night on TV, even if all were repeats. This is the state of what I call "emo trashing" where they have me in near tears over the plight of the aggrieved and defenceless. And too, that of the valiant protagonist, Alice Waters' food movement, aka "slow food", as in nourishing, just-picked freshness. I am getting fucking tired of being jerked with over these stories, especially repeats, when I know I would have had very little emotional linkage to them, and yet the "normal me" doesn't seem to serve the purposes of the gutless assholes that continue to manipulate my emotional state. Just tell me why to my face, asshole, and see if you have one left after that.
Other TV news goings on were the usual variations; crowds all over,- protests in Iran over election results, and the Golden Ears bridge opening in Vancouver was a gong show with 60,000 pedestrians arriving and plugging up the bridge, and some others that escape me. I haven't quite figured out why the perps like me to see huge crowds, but I am always glad I am not in them, and instead, get to see it on TV.
2300h
This one is done; plenty of motorcycle noise tonight, even too loud with the earmuffs on and forcing me to remove them and plug my ears. Such events are often timed when reading or thinking (har, har) about the various top perp themes, see the Consolidated Link List and the Pondering the Perps' Objectives. How can the motorcycle noise be as loud as streetside noise is a constant mystery being six stories up. Total Sensory Perversion might be the ideal book title should I ever undertake such an onerous task. I don't see it somehow, as I don't have the perseverence, and it is managed to be even less than what I would have.
I do a video shoot tomorrow of a local TI's location and the measurements on her electric and magnetic field detection instruments. I never get a word in edgewise, and if responding to a question I get cut off inside of 10 seconds. Like talking to a wall sometimes, a common and long time theme in this Potemkin Bubble I am kept in, and it has a longer history than that in certain circumstances.
Showing posts with label recall obstruction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recall obstruction. Show all posts
Monday, June 15, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Yoga Day
1630h
I was given some ugly dreams before getting up, the kind I would normally bail out of, but because some asshole can now defeat my "bad dream bailout" capabilities, I get to go the distance. More meat aerial games in the night, and I don't understand what they are for.
I did yoga today to no great difference than last time; the same masers and plasma beams coming off the lighting, carpets and other objects in the room, even the flowers where giving the ghosting plasma treatment. And no class member arranged behind the instructor from my vantage point, and that was a surprise as they nearly always have one Fuckwit aligned in this way, harkening the "blonde aura" games where the thuggy dude hangs out behind the attractive blonde woman. Some four days ago at the car dealership when I arrived for work they had one dude arrive at the entrance with the blonde saleswoman beside him, and had another three males on the other side of me. Why some innocuous dude in boring clothing needs a blonde escort in my proximity is beyond imagining, save my present theory of shared aura, penumbric ether, blonde goodness and the like. If any TI's have any idea, please let me know via comments or email.
And I get crumbs and lint arriving beside me or on me while at yoga, all the time now. It would seem the perps need these little color references nearby, and ones that don't move with me.
The instructor still has a partial military look, the color of her workout pants, though a black top with white lettering today. Last week it was a grey top, and the week before, her first time, was a same military green top, making her look very military-ish. But without the attitude thankfully, as she is really pleasant and never gets her left and right mixed up. There must be a reason for the perps to keep pushing the military look, and the only rationale they have supplied is the Indian Lake Project where children are being tested by the military. As regular readers know, I have no recollections of such, though there are some extended and perturbing lapses in time aged 2 to 5 y.o. "the lost years", that might be where I was exposed to military personnel in adverse circumstances. If you look at the photos of the children at the above link you will see that none of them are happy. Anyhow, this topic is getting tired, and if it seems that way to you, let me know. Like any blogger, one writes for the newcomers and the regulars both, and it is a judgement call as to how much old ground one should bring up.
I have had a few uncharacteristic memory drop outs in adulthood, not including the ones where I don't get it, or it is not important and the rest of them that simply fade away like high school physics. In about 1984 I bought a camera privately at the house of the owner. Then some 10 years later I did the same thing at the same house and seller. I was mostly done as the camera purchase price had been agreed upon when it came to me that I had been at the house with the same person before, and I said as much. The seller kept saying I hadn't, and only later I figured it out that I had, and was roundly shocked that I would of forgotten altogether as there were so many clues; location, house, seller, circumstances, and yet nothing really tripped off my recall save a generalized notion. I was so fucking annoyed that I had totally "forgot" as I never had known myself to forget a face or a place, both visual memory. Only when into this harassment did I become aware of the memory fucking tricks that the perps can do, even then it took them a year to tell me that I have been followed all my life. And it seems that they can now mess with very specific memories and knowledge thanks to their relentless experimentation on me. And also, they can now plant the notion of being absolutely sure about something, and then be totally wrong. That is another "never-before" memory debasement that hasn't occured until late 2008.
Back to yoga again; I notice that I am even more flexible in class, even more than the instructor for some exercises and as this is the only exercise I do, I find it extremely odd to be so supple. Which then points to the perps doing some messing around with my physiology; muscles, joints etc. Normally, everything (learning, life, physical exercise benefits) is adverse, including the assimilation of physical benefits of exercise, but this is one odd exception.
But I do find it odd that someone who was in the yoga class to be sucking on a cigarette afterward when I "happened" to cross paths with the person, a suspected operative that keeps "showing up" at all my yoga venues and then drops out for the longest time. Burning cigarettes convey some kind of localized space/time "ripping" games according to one of the science links of J. K. Harms. Also, it is brown tobacco and a white cover around it and may also serve as a local color reference. I notice that the perps are getting more daring with putting brown colored vehicles around me; deeper browns with an escort of black, white and silver grey vehicles around it. So perhaps the assholes are making progress on brown colors, in whatever way they measure it.
2030h
Like I figured, they did have extra gangstalkers on me when I set off to my part time job tonight. A halfwit act in the hallway, and another halfwit act in the elevator (my regulars), and all to meet another predominant same floor dwelling operative who I see more of than random chance would dictate, he of the smirk. And lo, if they didn't "know" each other and the halfwit hung with the operative just outside the elevator while I exited the building. Another one of those "instant street debates" that erupt in my presence. My theory is that there is something about my energetic interaction with the elevator halfwit standing behind me that then can be conveyed to the waiting operative at the lobby, and they are evaluating this energetic conveyance by remote means.
I had plenty of Fuckwit gangstalkers on my way to the place of work, a car dealership, but oddly, didn't get the greeters or their facsimile. Only later when I brought back the vacuum cleaner for the boss man did the Sales Manager appear with the blonde saleawoman, presumably to bask in her Favored auric penumbra. That is my theory, that the Unfavoreds, a male in this case, need to be placed with the Favoreds, blonde in this case, to somehow measure me for my subconscious reaction to each. This has been plenty consistent for the past seven years, and has nothing to do with what I say or how I behave. It cannot be a clinical event if the behavior of others is so strange and ordered.
2110h
I fixed up the On Blondes posting, cleaning it up mostly as nothing new was put in the posting.
Picture time for lack of anything to say.
Taken 01-27-2009, 1339h 05sec. A cute array of vehicles, from right to left, two slightly different hues of silver-grey, one with blue trim, then a Smart Car (the rage in this town) of two tone silver-grey and black behind the tree branches, and a white SUV in the lead of the file of parked vehicles. Not random IMHO, but arranged for silver grey gradations against white. There are three silver grey vehicles parked in file on the road on the left leading to the top of the picture, decidedly not random.
Taken 01-27-2009, 1338h 51sec. Taken before the above picture, showing an added white vehicle going by the arranged file (IMHO) behind it. I suppose the gangstalker colors are arranged too, but I don't see any particular pattern. Orange is a decidedly "go slow" color, one they meter out after a introductory run-up of other colors.
Taken 01-27-2009, 1339h 14sec. To the south (right) of the above pictures. Plenty of color ordered vehicles, many clustered; red, silver-grey, white and black and two light blue and one light brown. Not random IMHO.
This blog is done for the day, and I wonder what is in store for tomorrow and if it will be as dull as today.
I was given some ugly dreams before getting up, the kind I would normally bail out of, but because some asshole can now defeat my "bad dream bailout" capabilities, I get to go the distance. More meat aerial games in the night, and I don't understand what they are for.
I did yoga today to no great difference than last time; the same masers and plasma beams coming off the lighting, carpets and other objects in the room, even the flowers where giving the ghosting plasma treatment. And no class member arranged behind the instructor from my vantage point, and that was a surprise as they nearly always have one Fuckwit aligned in this way, harkening the "blonde aura" games where the thuggy dude hangs out behind the attractive blonde woman. Some four days ago at the car dealership when I arrived for work they had one dude arrive at the entrance with the blonde saleswoman beside him, and had another three males on the other side of me. Why some innocuous dude in boring clothing needs a blonde escort in my proximity is beyond imagining, save my present theory of shared aura, penumbric ether, blonde goodness and the like. If any TI's have any idea, please let me know via comments or email.
And I get crumbs and lint arriving beside me or on me while at yoga, all the time now. It would seem the perps need these little color references nearby, and ones that don't move with me.
The instructor still has a partial military look, the color of her workout pants, though a black top with white lettering today. Last week it was a grey top, and the week before, her first time, was a same military green top, making her look very military-ish. But without the attitude thankfully, as she is really pleasant and never gets her left and right mixed up. There must be a reason for the perps to keep pushing the military look, and the only rationale they have supplied is the Indian Lake Project where children are being tested by the military. As regular readers know, I have no recollections of such, though there are some extended and perturbing lapses in time aged 2 to 5 y.o. "the lost years", that might be where I was exposed to military personnel in adverse circumstances. If you look at the photos of the children at the above link you will see that none of them are happy. Anyhow, this topic is getting tired, and if it seems that way to you, let me know. Like any blogger, one writes for the newcomers and the regulars both, and it is a judgement call as to how much old ground one should bring up.
I have had a few uncharacteristic memory drop outs in adulthood, not including the ones where I don't get it, or it is not important and the rest of them that simply fade away like high school physics. In about 1984 I bought a camera privately at the house of the owner. Then some 10 years later I did the same thing at the same house and seller. I was mostly done as the camera purchase price had been agreed upon when it came to me that I had been at the house with the same person before, and I said as much. The seller kept saying I hadn't, and only later I figured it out that I had, and was roundly shocked that I would of forgotten altogether as there were so many clues; location, house, seller, circumstances, and yet nothing really tripped off my recall save a generalized notion. I was so fucking annoyed that I had totally "forgot" as I never had known myself to forget a face or a place, both visual memory. Only when into this harassment did I become aware of the memory fucking tricks that the perps can do, even then it took them a year to tell me that I have been followed all my life. And it seems that they can now mess with very specific memories and knowledge thanks to their relentless experimentation on me. And also, they can now plant the notion of being absolutely sure about something, and then be totally wrong. That is another "never-before" memory debasement that hasn't occured until late 2008.
Back to yoga again; I notice that I am even more flexible in class, even more than the instructor for some exercises and as this is the only exercise I do, I find it extremely odd to be so supple. Which then points to the perps doing some messing around with my physiology; muscles, joints etc. Normally, everything (learning, life, physical exercise benefits) is adverse, including the assimilation of physical benefits of exercise, but this is one odd exception.
But I do find it odd that someone who was in the yoga class to be sucking on a cigarette afterward when I "happened" to cross paths with the person, a suspected operative that keeps "showing up" at all my yoga venues and then drops out for the longest time. Burning cigarettes convey some kind of localized space/time "ripping" games according to one of the science links of J. K. Harms. Also, it is brown tobacco and a white cover around it and may also serve as a local color reference. I notice that the perps are getting more daring with putting brown colored vehicles around me; deeper browns with an escort of black, white and silver grey vehicles around it. So perhaps the assholes are making progress on brown colors, in whatever way they measure it.
2030h
Like I figured, they did have extra gangstalkers on me when I set off to my part time job tonight. A halfwit act in the hallway, and another halfwit act in the elevator (my regulars), and all to meet another predominant same floor dwelling operative who I see more of than random chance would dictate, he of the smirk. And lo, if they didn't "know" each other and the halfwit hung with the operative just outside the elevator while I exited the building. Another one of those "instant street debates" that erupt in my presence. My theory is that there is something about my energetic interaction with the elevator halfwit standing behind me that then can be conveyed to the waiting operative at the lobby, and they are evaluating this energetic conveyance by remote means.
I had plenty of Fuckwit gangstalkers on my way to the place of work, a car dealership, but oddly, didn't get the greeters or their facsimile. Only later when I brought back the vacuum cleaner for the boss man did the Sales Manager appear with the blonde saleawoman, presumably to bask in her Favored auric penumbra. That is my theory, that the Unfavoreds, a male in this case, need to be placed with the Favoreds, blonde in this case, to somehow measure me for my subconscious reaction to each. This has been plenty consistent for the past seven years, and has nothing to do with what I say or how I behave. It cannot be a clinical event if the behavior of others is so strange and ordered.
2110h
I fixed up the On Blondes posting, cleaning it up mostly as nothing new was put in the posting.
Picture time for lack of anything to say.
Taken 01-27-2009, 1339h 05sec. A cute array of vehicles, from right to left, two slightly different hues of silver-grey, one with blue trim, then a Smart Car (the rage in this town) of two tone silver-grey and black behind the tree branches, and a white SUV in the lead of the file of parked vehicles. Not random IMHO, but arranged for silver grey gradations against white. There are three silver grey vehicles parked in file on the road on the left leading to the top of the picture, decidedly not random.
Taken 01-27-2009, 1338h 51sec. Taken before the above picture, showing an added white vehicle going by the arranged file (IMHO) behind it. I suppose the gangstalker colors are arranged too, but I don't see any particular pattern. Orange is a decidedly "go slow" color, one they meter out after a introductory run-up of other colors.
Taken 01-27-2009, 1339h 14sec. To the south (right) of the above pictures. Plenty of color ordered vehicles, many clustered; red, silver-grey, white and black and two light blue and one light brown. Not random IMHO.
This blog is done for the day, and I wonder what is in store for tomorrow and if it will be as dull as today.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Packing Boxes Equals More Gangstalking
2000h
I went to the one hour cleaning job early to put away the three cardboard boxes of paper towels and toilet paper, and also lifted two flats of plastic wrapped toilet paper with the narrow diameter core. They have two kinds in the bathrooms at the car dealership where I work for an whole hour per day, and the incremental drawdown of roll paper, especially with that brown colored core, is of intense interest to the perps. Also, the perps go beserk over a new roll when removing the glued outside panel to stop it from unraveling. They do the same at my place, and of course with a commercial establishment have a wide open field to pull all kinds of stunts; rapid drawdown of small core diameter paper goods, then with large diameter sizes, and thwarting me when when attempting to undo the glued first panel of the toilet paper and all manner of combinations and permutations. One roll of toilet paper was totally delaminating, one ply plainly and continuously separated from the other. And they even pulled a most bizarre stunt three times; when loading the narrow core diameter toilet paper on the half inch diameter rod with a rounded end, why, "it didn't fit somehow" and the perps arranged it to push the core toilet paper forward, creating a sharp hump at the center of the roll, rendering it useless.
When hauling these boxes and flats of janitorial supplies I had at least six staff members and two "customers" crossing my path and posing nearby; one dude made three passbys for curious reasons, the mechanic was positioned in front of the sink I use for filling the mop bucket and then "happened" to be going out the back way when I was there at the supplies closet. Even the car dealership owner got in on it and was hauling up his suit pants when he said hello to me, even though I have been introduced to him. Another not-seen-before twit was walking up the stairs but looking backward at absolutely nothing; my first sight of him was on the stairs when he was twisted around and looking back. I was only 2' from him at the landing and he was pretending that he hadn't heard me for crissakes. Later, he came to loiter outside the Service area when I was cleaning it. It was worse than a British farce; all these Fuckwits doing their entrances and exits; constant crossing paths and up my asshole, almost literally.
What is interesting is that car sales are way down, and my boss man tells me all but two car salesman are inactive (laid off). So how is it that these two new dudes "show up", making themselves to be car salesman? Go figure. And I suspect that blonde males might be getting more gangstalking promotion/leverage as the teller at the bank was of the same variety this morning. Whatever auric goodness that blonde females exhibit that my mind keepers can remotely detect is somehow being cast/observed in blonde males. Or whatever; I am so fucking tired of attempting to figure out the objectives of this nonstop abuse and the ramifications of all the stunts and jerkarounds.
And I see that there was a pile of dirt left in the N. garage at the car dealership, and 2' from where I transited at least 5x there and back to the recycle bins storage area. In the Parts section they had a used exhaust system with a similar dirt dusted all over it. This isn't the first time that clods of dirt have "arrived" and are left there in mysterious circumstances, and it is most odd that it keeps occuring at this car dealership. I suspect that the perps are measuring my energetic interaction to all these car parts, new and used, and the soil on which some of them are driven, and then doing some kind of correlation to detect soil interactions separately from that of the vehicle. And there is plenty more plastic wrapped parts positioned to pinch down the Parts area aisleway egress, the same deal with cardboard and brown paper wrapped parts for the last two months. All this brown cardboard, brown anything contact even, makes for intensified gangstalking. Which was quite apparent when I walked back and stopped at the LD store for a new prescription. At least ten of them filed through one after the other once I was at the checkout that is next to the entrance. And to make sure of this, there were no other checkouts open, just more of the working weirds (Unfavored) on display; pony-tailed male, about the most hideous hair going. On of the gangstalkers I met when the boss man introduced me to, and the fucker looked at me but didn't say hello. The perps dithered me so I wasn't shure that I had seen him before at first, and then "figured it out" (read, planted recollection) afterward. I never, ever forget a face, and yet the fuckers are routinely interfering with my visual recall. It just pisses my off that I cannot be left alone and that the fuckers have taken on the most adverse possible research; on an nonconsenting subject by remote means. And so far, they have seven years to do this and are still at it.
And I note that the photo upload feature of this here Blogspot has been corrupted, hence I cannot get any pictures of arranged vehicles in this posting. Another fucking piss-off.
2255h
I did a perusal of ceramic knives for some reason; I read that they give off "bad energy" which might be why the perps are so intent on noisestalking me when I am using a kitchen knife. As if I have $100 to spare to aid my tormentors in their next quest. The 12" kitchen knife I have was of a steel that would leach iron oxide so it had to be handled carefully and dried soon after washing it. The perps through their extra-conventional means, converted it to a metal that was different. The nature of the metal changed over a week or so and it became a non-staining, no iron oxide leaching metal. All without it getting stolen or otherwise damaged. So, that begs the question now that the seed has been planted, just what is the agenda over ceramic knives? Just a way to piss around web surfing, or are they going to bug the hell out of me until I relent? Stay tuned.
Enough of the tedium for today's posting, and perhaps I will be allowed to get onto what I had planned two months ago until this dysthymic fugue was imposed upon me.
I went to the one hour cleaning job early to put away the three cardboard boxes of paper towels and toilet paper, and also lifted two flats of plastic wrapped toilet paper with the narrow diameter core. They have two kinds in the bathrooms at the car dealership where I work for an whole hour per day, and the incremental drawdown of roll paper, especially with that brown colored core, is of intense interest to the perps. Also, the perps go beserk over a new roll when removing the glued outside panel to stop it from unraveling. They do the same at my place, and of course with a commercial establishment have a wide open field to pull all kinds of stunts; rapid drawdown of small core diameter paper goods, then with large diameter sizes, and thwarting me when when attempting to undo the glued first panel of the toilet paper and all manner of combinations and permutations. One roll of toilet paper was totally delaminating, one ply plainly and continuously separated from the other. And they even pulled a most bizarre stunt three times; when loading the narrow core diameter toilet paper on the half inch diameter rod with a rounded end, why, "it didn't fit somehow" and the perps arranged it to push the core toilet paper forward, creating a sharp hump at the center of the roll, rendering it useless.
When hauling these boxes and flats of janitorial supplies I had at least six staff members and two "customers" crossing my path and posing nearby; one dude made three passbys for curious reasons, the mechanic was positioned in front of the sink I use for filling the mop bucket and then "happened" to be going out the back way when I was there at the supplies closet. Even the car dealership owner got in on it and was hauling up his suit pants when he said hello to me, even though I have been introduced to him. Another not-seen-before twit was walking up the stairs but looking backward at absolutely nothing; my first sight of him was on the stairs when he was twisted around and looking back. I was only 2' from him at the landing and he was pretending that he hadn't heard me for crissakes. Later, he came to loiter outside the Service area when I was cleaning it. It was worse than a British farce; all these Fuckwits doing their entrances and exits; constant crossing paths and up my asshole, almost literally.
What is interesting is that car sales are way down, and my boss man tells me all but two car salesman are inactive (laid off). So how is it that these two new dudes "show up", making themselves to be car salesman? Go figure. And I suspect that blonde males might be getting more gangstalking promotion/leverage as the teller at the bank was of the same variety this morning. Whatever auric goodness that blonde females exhibit that my mind keepers can remotely detect is somehow being cast/observed in blonde males. Or whatever; I am so fucking tired of attempting to figure out the objectives of this nonstop abuse and the ramifications of all the stunts and jerkarounds.
And I see that there was a pile of dirt left in the N. garage at the car dealership, and 2' from where I transited at least 5x there and back to the recycle bins storage area. In the Parts section they had a used exhaust system with a similar dirt dusted all over it. This isn't the first time that clods of dirt have "arrived" and are left there in mysterious circumstances, and it is most odd that it keeps occuring at this car dealership. I suspect that the perps are measuring my energetic interaction to all these car parts, new and used, and the soil on which some of them are driven, and then doing some kind of correlation to detect soil interactions separately from that of the vehicle. And there is plenty more plastic wrapped parts positioned to pinch down the Parts area aisleway egress, the same deal with cardboard and brown paper wrapped parts for the last two months. All this brown cardboard, brown anything contact even, makes for intensified gangstalking. Which was quite apparent when I walked back and stopped at the LD store for a new prescription. At least ten of them filed through one after the other once I was at the checkout that is next to the entrance. And to make sure of this, there were no other checkouts open, just more of the working weirds (Unfavored) on display; pony-tailed male, about the most hideous hair going. On of the gangstalkers I met when the boss man introduced me to, and the fucker looked at me but didn't say hello. The perps dithered me so I wasn't shure that I had seen him before at first, and then "figured it out" (read, planted recollection) afterward. I never, ever forget a face, and yet the fuckers are routinely interfering with my visual recall. It just pisses my off that I cannot be left alone and that the fuckers have taken on the most adverse possible research; on an nonconsenting subject by remote means. And so far, they have seven years to do this and are still at it.
And I note that the photo upload feature of this here Blogspot has been corrupted, hence I cannot get any pictures of arranged vehicles in this posting. Another fucking piss-off.
2255h
I did a perusal of ceramic knives for some reason; I read that they give off "bad energy" which might be why the perps are so intent on noisestalking me when I am using a kitchen knife. As if I have $100 to spare to aid my tormentors in their next quest. The 12" kitchen knife I have was of a steel that would leach iron oxide so it had to be handled carefully and dried soon after washing it. The perps through their extra-conventional means, converted it to a metal that was different. The nature of the metal changed over a week or so and it became a non-staining, no iron oxide leaching metal. All without it getting stolen or otherwise damaged. So, that begs the question now that the seed has been planted, just what is the agenda over ceramic knives? Just a way to piss around web surfing, or are they going to bug the hell out of me until I relent? Stay tuned.
Enough of the tedium for today's posting, and perhaps I will be allowed to get onto what I had planned two months ago until this dysthymic fugue was imposed upon me.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
The Blue Force for Financial Transactions
1540h
A busy morning with an informational interview and then onto Iris to order new glasses. As usual, the perps had me walking around elsewhere until finding the unmarked office of the software recruiting firm. The interview went OK, and it was more about the requirements of the training upgrade funding source to be than expecting to get a foot in the door jobwise. Six years out of working in technology is a long time, perhaps even two product change generations, if not more.
Then onto the optician's to view the eyeglasses that were going on sale this month. More correctly, there is a $100 "cash back", aka rebate, a strange way of discounting as there ever was. The entire rebate nonsense has got a bad name as the rebates are slow on coming, if at all. That was my experience when working in Seattle; some rebates never materialized. And as I had the perps covertly lurking in the background then, I still wonder what this is all about, as surely they had to be behind it.
After a suitable wait for the sales person, seeming to be only active one plus a woman in a tarty mid-blue shiny outfit with a short skirt and black and white cowboy boots, I finally recieved the sales assistant's attention. She, whom I had met before, is a middle aged blonde, attractive, save her smile for reasons I cannot quite define. I recall that she had crooked teeth, but I noticed that they were straight, whiter and tidy this time. I had her doting on me, not that I minded, and ended up ordering the progressive lenses and minimal frames so they won't be highly visible on my face. These are the same frame design as Sarah Palin's, but at less half the cost. There were some payment shenanigans, as I attempted to pay with my debit card that was rejected, and then paid with my charge card. My mother is going to subsidize the purchase a my Christmas present. The perps haven't let me build up any cash since last working the farming job in September. And just before the transactions were initiated another blonde woman customer arrives, and shortly afterward, a woman with a mid-blue scarf splayed across her chest arrived as well. This was the same hue and reflective fabric look as that of the other store assistant, the one in the ridiculous cowboy boots.
Regular readers might remember that the "Blue Force" has arrived for at least two financical transactions and buying decisions since September. They "arrived" for my decision as to which pair of safety toed boots to purchase (assuming it was me, and that it wasn't scripted), and kept walking around afterward, these two dudes who pretended not to know each other, and kept passing back and forth at the location I made the buying decision. Then, two weeks ago when helping my mother purchase a new phone set, two more blue dressed gangstalkers were loitering around, one in advance, and another immediately following the decision moment. I haven't figured out why the perps are so rabid about financial transactions, but they are, no matter the method or location; by check, online credit card, debit card, rebate mail out perhaps, and of course at the supermarket, clothing store and online. They also like to separate the acquisition decision from the location; when attempting to purchase the phone set for my mother, there was only one left in stock and no manual or box, so we left the store and went to Office Depot. There, the same phone set was also on sale, and it was then, with some orchestrated delays by my mother, she purchased the phone set.
At the optician's today, I got the reflective mid-blue dressed babe in the background, complemented by a big blue scarf of a purported customer arriving at payment time. And too, the woman sales assistant I was dealing with was blonde, the hair color of the first woman waiting customer. Curiously, they also put a East Indian dude to loiter around and almost revert into a senrry, so dumbstruck he was, by no seeming cause. Early in my visit to the optician they also had an red coated Asian woman doing the faux customer act, likely as some kind of reference or introductory color for calibration of some kind.
I have visited this particular eyeglasses store at least a half dozen times in the past year needing to replenish my lens cleaner as well as getting new nose pads for my current pair of glasses. (The perps dye the nosepads green in an incremental manner, as if this substance was some kind of oxidation, which it isn't, as the glasses are made of titanium. The dye "erupts" inside the nosepad and cannot be removed. I have never seen anyone's elses' glasses nosepads go green, so it must be some perp fuckery to apply some localized color near my eyes for their color reference games. This same substance also once "showed up" on the side of my Volvo for a few months, going back some 12 years or more.) This eyeglasses store has been the location of an number of way cute women sales assistants; interestingly, I knew at least two from other walks of life, and my recall of them was totally dithered so I was not allowed to recognize them at the time, and only hours later. As I have said, I never, ever, forget a face, and there has been two such incidents at this store. One past woman saleswoman/shill was a former neighbor of mine, a dancer by trade at the time, and then here she is, an optician's assistant. The second woman was a blonde woman I had met a year ago a few times in the course of volunteering at the Sierra Club. Funny how neither of them said anything about recognizing me, and as mentioned, my never-fail recall of facial features was fucked with so to not recognize them at the time.
So I reckon, this was the "big event" the perps had been leading up to; getting a series of visitations to the store over the past year, some with known associated individuals as store staff with recognition dithering applied to me, and then have me finally get on with ordering glasses, something I have put off for the past 10 years. There was two large commercial delivery trucks outside for the event, one a reflective metal, the other white. Some of the oncoming gangstalkers were wearing the same color of blue, and there additional red colored vehicles added on the street, and someone standing at the corner in a red shirt, not intending to cross at the crosswalks, but doing sentry duty. And lo, if another gangstalker wasn't wearing the same red hue and passing by, crossing the street.
1700h
Other likely perp excitement earlier today was their force play over a switch between bottles of olive oil when cooking the tortillas. The end of the first bottle coincided with cooking the first tortilla on both sides, and the start of the new bottle was with cooking the second tortilla in my ever regular diet (twice per day). This is big news, as they haven't attempted this in over five years of cooking the same foods the same way. Similarly, they have been arranging for a toilet paper roll swapover while taking a crap, twice in succession when needing a new roll. Not too exciting news for me though, as it means that after six years of abusive life-rape, this is where the assholes are at, fucking with differing lots, same package/brand eating mostly the same food, day after day. Regular readers might recall past olive oil flicking stunts of the perps, and in 2004 or 2005 they pulled a grocery plastic bag from my hand containing only olive oil and smashed it onto the ashphalt surface I was walking upon. Thereafter a big oil splat was in place for me to pass by to my vehicle.
1725h
It is cleaning time again, my one hour per day job for which I also get messed around as to how long it is taking. I was ready to quit after Saturday, attempting to get 115 minutes of work done in 60 minutes, and lo, if there wasn't a big "improvement" yesterday, now down to 75 minutes. Which suggests my watch was fucked with along with the boss chiming in to tell me it was "correct". I wonder what the next gig is, and when it is; the perps seem to be warming me up to the prospect of employment, but aren't ready to have me work fulltime at one location.
2010h
There were five gangstalkers waiting for me at my building entrance when I returned from the cleaning job at the local Mazda dealership. And of course, there, they can put vehicles all around me, new and used, and in whatever color they want, and even elevate them on the hoists. Tonight, a red Mazda was featured and raised about 5' on the hoist with two black colored ones parked in the service bays. And lo, if there wasn't a red Mazda gangstalking vehicle with two black pickups ahead of it, and a black sedan behind it, all four of them making the same turn at an intersection some 80' from my apartment building. Another red Mazda was parked facing the opposite direction as I was walking that last leg, and lo, if there wasn't five gangstalkers in front of the building, like greeters Two were on sentry duty leaning against respective buildings either side of the entry area, another at the door, and two oncoming dudes. Talk about coverage, the assholes were all over me tonight.
Other excitement for the assholes might have been that I wore my runners for the first time today at 1700h, my earlier town activities were in my dress shoes and nice slacks. They were a green grey color, and yes, there was an inordinant number of loitering Fuckwits wearing various shades of green while transiting from the interview to the optician.
And I see that the perps blocked me from using my debit card when I had plenty of line of credit to pay for the eyeglasses, and so I had to go through a second transaction to pay with my credit card. Funny how all these events keep "erupting" over paying for something. I also had two gangstalkers on me when mailing my rebate request envelope earlier. Should my mail have any financial contents I can be sure that a gangstalker is hanging around the mailbox too. They can't get enough of it, and routinely fuck me around when I was paying by check in the mail. Thank goodness those days are over and I am allowed to pay online like I was doing until they took out my PC in 2002-3.
2205h
More covetous reading about high end stereo equipment for the last two hours, not that I am in the market, and that my music listening is highly constrained to say the least. About once per two months I get a music listening evening, and then nothing for a long time. I haven't yet figured out why I get directed to look at the stereo gear; there are a few theories though. The perps like me to read about such equipment as well as other things as if I want to own it, which is fiscally impossible. There is the bookmarking aspect which they like to noisestalk, and there is the predominant box shapes that they like me to view. Like I say, I cannot figure it out and it is an idle way to pass the time.
2235h
Two days ago, when watching 60 Minutes at my parent's place, the perps turned me into an emotional wreck when viewing the story of Monica Brown, an 18 year old who won the Silver Star for combat duty valor. I don't normally react to these kinds of stories, but the perps have been jerking with me so that I do, and made me teary over it. But the interesting coincidence component of this is in the name; Brown is my mother's maiden name, and by itself that isn't a big deal as it is a fairly common name. I haven't mentioned anything to date about the Monica name, but it has been prominently featured in the harassment mind games, as well as having me "happen" to read words such as "moniker", "Santa Monica" with a lot more frequency than pre-overt harassment normality. I will leave it at that, but it is at least interesting to have one person's first and last name embody two largely separate strands of names that have some bearing on my entire harassment show. I will leave it at that for now, and call this one done for the day.
A busy morning with an informational interview and then onto Iris to order new glasses. As usual, the perps had me walking around elsewhere until finding the unmarked office of the software recruiting firm. The interview went OK, and it was more about the requirements of the training upgrade funding source to be than expecting to get a foot in the door jobwise. Six years out of working in technology is a long time, perhaps even two product change generations, if not more.
Then onto the optician's to view the eyeglasses that were going on sale this month. More correctly, there is a $100 "cash back", aka rebate, a strange way of discounting as there ever was. The entire rebate nonsense has got a bad name as the rebates are slow on coming, if at all. That was my experience when working in Seattle; some rebates never materialized. And as I had the perps covertly lurking in the background then, I still wonder what this is all about, as surely they had to be behind it.
After a suitable wait for the sales person, seeming to be only active one plus a woman in a tarty mid-blue shiny outfit with a short skirt and black and white cowboy boots, I finally recieved the sales assistant's attention. She, whom I had met before, is a middle aged blonde, attractive, save her smile for reasons I cannot quite define. I recall that she had crooked teeth, but I noticed that they were straight, whiter and tidy this time. I had her doting on me, not that I minded, and ended up ordering the progressive lenses and minimal frames so they won't be highly visible on my face. These are the same frame design as Sarah Palin's, but at less half the cost. There were some payment shenanigans, as I attempted to pay with my debit card that was rejected, and then paid with my charge card. My mother is going to subsidize the purchase a my Christmas present. The perps haven't let me build up any cash since last working the farming job in September. And just before the transactions were initiated another blonde woman customer arrives, and shortly afterward, a woman with a mid-blue scarf splayed across her chest arrived as well. This was the same hue and reflective fabric look as that of the other store assistant, the one in the ridiculous cowboy boots.
Regular readers might remember that the "Blue Force" has arrived for at least two financical transactions and buying decisions since September. They "arrived" for my decision as to which pair of safety toed boots to purchase (assuming it was me, and that it wasn't scripted), and kept walking around afterward, these two dudes who pretended not to know each other, and kept passing back and forth at the location I made the buying decision. Then, two weeks ago when helping my mother purchase a new phone set, two more blue dressed gangstalkers were loitering around, one in advance, and another immediately following the decision moment. I haven't figured out why the perps are so rabid about financial transactions, but they are, no matter the method or location; by check, online credit card, debit card, rebate mail out perhaps, and of course at the supermarket, clothing store and online. They also like to separate the acquisition decision from the location; when attempting to purchase the phone set for my mother, there was only one left in stock and no manual or box, so we left the store and went to Office Depot. There, the same phone set was also on sale, and it was then, with some orchestrated delays by my mother, she purchased the phone set.
At the optician's today, I got the reflective mid-blue dressed babe in the background, complemented by a big blue scarf of a purported customer arriving at payment time. And too, the woman sales assistant I was dealing with was blonde, the hair color of the first woman waiting customer. Curiously, they also put a East Indian dude to loiter around and almost revert into a senrry, so dumbstruck he was, by no seeming cause. Early in my visit to the optician they also had an red coated Asian woman doing the faux customer act, likely as some kind of reference or introductory color for calibration of some kind.
I have visited this particular eyeglasses store at least a half dozen times in the past year needing to replenish my lens cleaner as well as getting new nose pads for my current pair of glasses. (The perps dye the nosepads green in an incremental manner, as if this substance was some kind of oxidation, which it isn't, as the glasses are made of titanium. The dye "erupts" inside the nosepad and cannot be removed. I have never seen anyone's elses' glasses nosepads go green, so it must be some perp fuckery to apply some localized color near my eyes for their color reference games. This same substance also once "showed up" on the side of my Volvo for a few months, going back some 12 years or more.) This eyeglasses store has been the location of an number of way cute women sales assistants; interestingly, I knew at least two from other walks of life, and my recall of them was totally dithered so I was not allowed to recognize them at the time, and only hours later. As I have said, I never, ever, forget a face, and there has been two such incidents at this store. One past woman saleswoman/shill was a former neighbor of mine, a dancer by trade at the time, and then here she is, an optician's assistant. The second woman was a blonde woman I had met a year ago a few times in the course of volunteering at the Sierra Club. Funny how neither of them said anything about recognizing me, and as mentioned, my never-fail recall of facial features was fucked with so to not recognize them at the time.
So I reckon, this was the "big event" the perps had been leading up to; getting a series of visitations to the store over the past year, some with known associated individuals as store staff with recognition dithering applied to me, and then have me finally get on with ordering glasses, something I have put off for the past 10 years. There was two large commercial delivery trucks outside for the event, one a reflective metal, the other white. Some of the oncoming gangstalkers were wearing the same color of blue, and there additional red colored vehicles added on the street, and someone standing at the corner in a red shirt, not intending to cross at the crosswalks, but doing sentry duty. And lo, if another gangstalker wasn't wearing the same red hue and passing by, crossing the street.
1700h
Other likely perp excitement earlier today was their force play over a switch between bottles of olive oil when cooking the tortillas. The end of the first bottle coincided with cooking the first tortilla on both sides, and the start of the new bottle was with cooking the second tortilla in my ever regular diet (twice per day). This is big news, as they haven't attempted this in over five years of cooking the same foods the same way. Similarly, they have been arranging for a toilet paper roll swapover while taking a crap, twice in succession when needing a new roll. Not too exciting news for me though, as it means that after six years of abusive life-rape, this is where the assholes are at, fucking with differing lots, same package/brand eating mostly the same food, day after day. Regular readers might recall past olive oil flicking stunts of the perps, and in 2004 or 2005 they pulled a grocery plastic bag from my hand containing only olive oil and smashed it onto the ashphalt surface I was walking upon. Thereafter a big oil splat was in place for me to pass by to my vehicle.
1725h
It is cleaning time again, my one hour per day job for which I also get messed around as to how long it is taking. I was ready to quit after Saturday, attempting to get 115 minutes of work done in 60 minutes, and lo, if there wasn't a big "improvement" yesterday, now down to 75 minutes. Which suggests my watch was fucked with along with the boss chiming in to tell me it was "correct". I wonder what the next gig is, and when it is; the perps seem to be warming me up to the prospect of employment, but aren't ready to have me work fulltime at one location.
2010h
There were five gangstalkers waiting for me at my building entrance when I returned from the cleaning job at the local Mazda dealership. And of course, there, they can put vehicles all around me, new and used, and in whatever color they want, and even elevate them on the hoists. Tonight, a red Mazda was featured and raised about 5' on the hoist with two black colored ones parked in the service bays. And lo, if there wasn't a red Mazda gangstalking vehicle with two black pickups ahead of it, and a black sedan behind it, all four of them making the same turn at an intersection some 80' from my apartment building. Another red Mazda was parked facing the opposite direction as I was walking that last leg, and lo, if there wasn't five gangstalkers in front of the building, like greeters Two were on sentry duty leaning against respective buildings either side of the entry area, another at the door, and two oncoming dudes. Talk about coverage, the assholes were all over me tonight.
Other excitement for the assholes might have been that I wore my runners for the first time today at 1700h, my earlier town activities were in my dress shoes and nice slacks. They were a green grey color, and yes, there was an inordinant number of loitering Fuckwits wearing various shades of green while transiting from the interview to the optician.
And I see that the perps blocked me from using my debit card when I had plenty of line of credit to pay for the eyeglasses, and so I had to go through a second transaction to pay with my credit card. Funny how all these events keep "erupting" over paying for something. I also had two gangstalkers on me when mailing my rebate request envelope earlier. Should my mail have any financial contents I can be sure that a gangstalker is hanging around the mailbox too. They can't get enough of it, and routinely fuck me around when I was paying by check in the mail. Thank goodness those days are over and I am allowed to pay online like I was doing until they took out my PC in 2002-3.
2205h
More covetous reading about high end stereo equipment for the last two hours, not that I am in the market, and that my music listening is highly constrained to say the least. About once per two months I get a music listening evening, and then nothing for a long time. I haven't yet figured out why I get directed to look at the stereo gear; there are a few theories though. The perps like me to read about such equipment as well as other things as if I want to own it, which is fiscally impossible. There is the bookmarking aspect which they like to noisestalk, and there is the predominant box shapes that they like me to view. Like I say, I cannot figure it out and it is an idle way to pass the time.
2235h
Two days ago, when watching 60 Minutes at my parent's place, the perps turned me into an emotional wreck when viewing the story of Monica Brown, an 18 year old who won the Silver Star for combat duty valor. I don't normally react to these kinds of stories, but the perps have been jerking with me so that I do, and made me teary over it. But the interesting coincidence component of this is in the name; Brown is my mother's maiden name, and by itself that isn't a big deal as it is a fairly common name. I haven't mentioned anything to date about the Monica name, but it has been prominently featured in the harassment mind games, as well as having me "happen" to read words such as "moniker", "Santa Monica" with a lot more frequency than pre-overt harassment normality. I will leave it at that, but it is at least interesting to have one person's first and last name embody two largely separate strands of names that have some bearing on my entire harassment show. I will leave it at that for now, and call this one done for the day.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Blood Sampling
1020h
A regular component of this harassment is being blood sampled in some way, and it is nothing like giving a sample at a medical lab. First off, my new sheets were soiled with a blood splat after their inaugural use last night. It was even a fresh red, and as before, there are no insect bites to account for it. (Though there is the ongoing cover story that the second bedbug spraying is now a week delayed). Then when washing my hands after a forced pee, the perps let me know that I had a spontaneous bleed on my right ear lobe which I cleaned up. Then when back at my desk, they put on a bedbug on my right arm which I crushed, sending blood over my fingers and necessitating another trip to the bathroom to clean up, inside of a minute of the prior blood sample. Then, they had me attend to the earlobe blood again, placing the stepic pencil on it in an attempt to staunch it. That makes four blood samples so far today, three inside of a minute.
The perps big event today is that after three weeks of intention, they finally let me get to the ATM and deposit my checks and cash. There was even an extra $50 bill that I couldn't account for. And I am sure their excitement relates to the fact that I was depositing $100's (brown) $50's (orange) and $20's (green) and thereby changing the color signature of my wallet, and of me by extension. (Kept in my back pocket). I also deposited two yellow colored checks, and given the escalated incidents related to that color of late, it seems that they want to test this color for wallet related effects as well. I did also have a purchase to make on the way back, using my debit card to acquire a box of pens, the Pilot V5, in blue color ink. And wouldn't you know, right in front of pens was a blue dressed male large gutted gangstalker, exactly in front these very pens, my standard make and model for the past six years of journalling this harassment.
I will be getting a haircut later today, and I am sure that this wallet utilization exercise if of significant timing for the perps. They always like me to get haircuts, sitting in a chair with various colored plastic sheets, and someone hovering over me.
The visit to the ATM this morning was fraught with the usual freakshow, including a mass of over 50 kids, aged 18 to 20 or so, at the opposite corner from the bank. They were there for both inbound and outbound legs, and I am sure had some kind of color reference duties, being entirely in the shade, while I was predominantly in the sunlit side of the street. And another gangstalker swarm to freeze me in place for a few seconds after exiting the bank, after my color signature change from depositing the above mentioned monies, as in colored paper.
And to also add to the ongoing yellow color games; I slept in my new off-white, almond colored sheets, and towel dried myself after my shower with similar colored towels. And too, an almond colored face cloth for shaving after using a pink facecloth (that morphed from a lilac color) for over six years. The latter suddenly got thin in the last month and its replacement was used for the first time this morning. So it would seem there is a big push on over the color yellow, partially confirmed by yesterday's pictures of yellow dressed gangstalkers in both shade and sunlit conditions at three discrete distances. Ever wonder why you don't see plain white Post-it Notes; or at least I don't get to see them in the stores.
1330h
Another futile expedition to the basement lockup to trove through stored clothing in preparation for an attempt at farm labor, and lo, no stored clothing of any kind. But in fact, it was a setup all round, as there is a 12" sewer pipe going through the lockups, and here was I, troving through blown boxes, some with a white finish on them. And to add to this, the perps hade take another crap and clean up with a shower, which followed lunch where I ate brown sprouted wheat tortillas. All that brown color activity. Most regular readers will know that the perp are totally obsessed with exposing me to brown colored objects, especially if it has anything to do with excrement, mine or someone else's. And too, that the perps dug up some 300' of road to put in two 30" sewer lines that would tie into this building. It was a very ambitious rebuild of the street, and that it would seem they aren't going to let me off the hook without solving their brown and shit problem. Not my problem, so why do I have this gang of supreme assholes in my life timing my crap to their brown color exposure initiatives?
There isn't an answer to that save the ongoing noisestalking, and typo sabotage to make me yell at them. There are still some missing things in the lockup, like a KVM cable I had, as well as a split RCA L/R cable from a single push-in cable. The latter went missing at least four years ago in a move, and I haven't been able to get one since. And moving is the perps favorite time to apply recall deletions; I am astonished that I did not recall there was no stored clothing downstairs in the storage lockup, but when some unbidden party can delete one's recall all to set up a futile search, why they will do it. Which suggests that they had this planned out over a year ago. It was a little over a year ago when I went through all my boxes and carted many off to the local charity that "happens" to be less than a half block away. So it would seem that this toss-out session was planned before then, along with any recall deletion games that they have long pulled on me at this time. I suspect that my native, uncontrolled ability to recollect was just too good for the assholes, as they have been doing this at every move I have made; all manner of objects go missing, and a few ones even show up again. The car stereo amplifier and speakers that went missing in 2006 from my parents place "arrived" in the boxes that were packed in 2003, as determined last year, 2007. And of course, they can somehow access these boxes remotely and dematerialize objects.
1810h
The perps have had me cranked up for the last hour, all as a precursor to me "discovering" Google Analytics while I was intending to delete this because it became an excuse for endless dialog popup boxes. That is how it goes, eliminate the excuses, or cover stories or whatever guise the harassment is in, even if you know it to be totally faked. There are so many things I do differently now just to eliminate the extra noise that gets added in, and yet they crank up the noise all the same, all to get me riled up. Just like the last 40 minutes; constant ranting at the assholes over these dumbshit dialog boxes that keep popping up the instant I intend to click on a link, now obscured by the dialog box.
I did the gym trip again today; it was another dreary freakshow, and I bailed early as the perps had me cranked up over their forced spasms and imbalancing, and before that, the bullshit humming by the fuckwit next to me on the treadmill. I bailed, and then another two dudes arrived after I left, one working on the machine I spent a whole minute on. So that made three dudes in a cluster of side-by-side treadmills, and the remaining five treadmills were availible. I have never seen three dudes cluster up like this before unless they know each other, which wasn't the case. There were also the usual "do-squats" sitting around doing nothing but leaning forward from their seated position, the long observed "lean forward" stalking. They even put a negro on duty, but pulled him after 10 minutes. They tried to keep him in the light, and therefore not as well defined, but once I saw that disgusting skinhead of his, that was it. The perps routinely pull planted negros in my proximity, usually within 5 to 10 minutes. I also had a negro accompany me in the elevator when outbound to the gym. He was dressed in black, with shades on even, and carried a flat black nylon condura briefcase. There are plenty of black gangstalking vehicles outside the apartment now, all since I brought the glossy black Antec PC case back last week. It is very possible that the perps had the case painted with automotive paint, just to "harmonize" the color energetics games that they indulge me in. They need to calibrate me on various colors and lighting, between this apartment and outside, so what better than having a glossy black steel case so it would be comparable to a glossy black monster vehicle parked outside the apartment doors when I get out.
There were two class freaks in gym; Ethnic Gut was featuring himself at a distance though, over 20' and being relatively discreet. And Fatboy was sucking on a cigarette outside the gym; talk about setting the tone for a workout. No wonder he doesn't get to a state of running on the treadmill. Another freak was the Grotesque Granny, who made sure to be seen close in at least two locations; I was hoping that I had seen the last of this one, but no, she is back again. Another freak was the goatee bearded fat man, perhaps Fat Goatee will be his assigned name should he surface at another gym class.
The infernal Oak Bay Fire Department put on their deep red colored firetruck outside the OB Rec. Center (the gym) again. This has to be at least the sixth time they have come by for outside gangstalking with their vehicles, and only once did they stage an emergency. And it wasn't too much of a surprise that three of the fire department goofs showed up in the gym, "happening" to be leading ahead of me when I was headed to the treadmills. They were all their navy blue uniforms, and walked in file, not exactly an inspection by my determination.
1910h
I am in the beam again; an impossible illumination from a "reflection" that does not have a direct line of sight, and "somehow" reaches some 8' into this apartment, lighting up the floor where I am seated. (As pictured in recent past blogs). And this was arranged in the same circumstances as last night; after (brown colored) dinner, doing Quicken updates (today's deposits), rasping and filing noise from above, and generalized other noise from outside.
I finally was able to access my Google Blogger site statistics, and it wasn't too preposessing; 29 page reads in the past three weeks, all occuring in two days, back to back. I suspect the statistics might be arranged, so I am not too concerned that they represent reality. This is a specialized group, us TI's, selected to be cast into hell on earth, all because of their agenda of not declaring themselves to be doing nonconsensual human experimentation. I don't get it, but it has been this way for over 54 years now.
The perps have me cranked up to attempt some farm labor work this week. They are still beating me over this one, and ensuring all other job options just "don't happen somehow" and Craigslist is drying up.
And some detail on the trivial pursuits of the perps; as another one erupted today. I consider the above jerkaround of depleting my recall as to what was in the basement locker to be one such, and this is another. After leaving gym early, I needed to kill some time before my haircut, so I went to the nearby pharmacy that has plenty of food items, and bought some nuts and juice, something I might need soon. I paid cash, and ended up with some coins in my pocket, as I had none in my pocket at the time, taking only enough for the lockers at the gym. While later walking back to my place, I heard coins rattling and "wondered" what it was, as the perps had deleted my recall that I had put some coins in my pocket. They planted the notion that it was a made up noise. When I got back to my place and changed out of my gym pants, there was the pocket change to my "surprise". In other words, the mere knowledge of having pocket change was deleted my my recall and I was screwed into thinking that I didn't have any when I did. And of course, all my faculties of curiousity were also dithered and blocked. It is almost unbelievable that a billion dollar per year budgeted criminal harassment organization stoops so low as to fuck someone out of knowing if they are carrying pocket change or not. It is utterly bizarre as it is stunning and depraved as well as infuriating.
2035h
Another part of the TI experience is getting ripped off. I always purchase Pilot V5 pens with blue ink by the box of 12 at Monk's Office Supply. Today, I got nailed for the per pen price that came to $29. And lo, if I don't find that the competitor's box of 12 is $20. More of the jerking around, enough to take it back which might be what this gambit is all about. And also, I got fucked out of querying the bill at the time; totally fucked with to accomodate the script.
2145h
The perps are working me over tonight; they pulled a total PC lockup. Even the three finger salute was dysfunctional (cntrl, alt, del) so a one-fingered salute was in order, the off button. They kept the music playing while the rest of the browser was locked. Freaking bizarre.
Another jerkaround is the perp spoofing the music player and then having two artists playing at the same time. This jerkaround has been going on for the last year, but they have stepped it up over the past 10 months with more permitted music listening.
2300h
A new muse has come upon me after some troving through the Calgary Folk Festival performer listings; Basia Bulat. Take a listen here, I find her captivating, on par with Jill Barber with whom I am transfixed over as regular readers will know.
Time to call this one done for the day, and ponder what my night might be like tonight. I had the typical harassment Monday night last night; overhead poundings, 1.5 hours of sleeplessness, and a few other stunts to keep me pissed off.
A regular component of this harassment is being blood sampled in some way, and it is nothing like giving a sample at a medical lab. First off, my new sheets were soiled with a blood splat after their inaugural use last night. It was even a fresh red, and as before, there are no insect bites to account for it. (Though there is the ongoing cover story that the second bedbug spraying is now a week delayed). Then when washing my hands after a forced pee, the perps let me know that I had a spontaneous bleed on my right ear lobe which I cleaned up. Then when back at my desk, they put on a bedbug on my right arm which I crushed, sending blood over my fingers and necessitating another trip to the bathroom to clean up, inside of a minute of the prior blood sample. Then, they had me attend to the earlobe blood again, placing the stepic pencil on it in an attempt to staunch it. That makes four blood samples so far today, three inside of a minute.
The perps big event today is that after three weeks of intention, they finally let me get to the ATM and deposit my checks and cash. There was even an extra $50 bill that I couldn't account for. And I am sure their excitement relates to the fact that I was depositing $100's (brown) $50's (orange) and $20's (green) and thereby changing the color signature of my wallet, and of me by extension. (Kept in my back pocket). I also deposited two yellow colored checks, and given the escalated incidents related to that color of late, it seems that they want to test this color for wallet related effects as well. I did also have a purchase to make on the way back, using my debit card to acquire a box of pens, the Pilot V5, in blue color ink. And wouldn't you know, right in front of pens was a blue dressed male large gutted gangstalker, exactly in front these very pens, my standard make and model for the past six years of journalling this harassment.
I will be getting a haircut later today, and I am sure that this wallet utilization exercise if of significant timing for the perps. They always like me to get haircuts, sitting in a chair with various colored plastic sheets, and someone hovering over me.
The visit to the ATM this morning was fraught with the usual freakshow, including a mass of over 50 kids, aged 18 to 20 or so, at the opposite corner from the bank. They were there for both inbound and outbound legs, and I am sure had some kind of color reference duties, being entirely in the shade, while I was predominantly in the sunlit side of the street. And another gangstalker swarm to freeze me in place for a few seconds after exiting the bank, after my color signature change from depositing the above mentioned monies, as in colored paper.
And to also add to the ongoing yellow color games; I slept in my new off-white, almond colored sheets, and towel dried myself after my shower with similar colored towels. And too, an almond colored face cloth for shaving after using a pink facecloth (that morphed from a lilac color) for over six years. The latter suddenly got thin in the last month and its replacement was used for the first time this morning. So it would seem there is a big push on over the color yellow, partially confirmed by yesterday's pictures of yellow dressed gangstalkers in both shade and sunlit conditions at three discrete distances. Ever wonder why you don't see plain white Post-it Notes; or at least I don't get to see them in the stores.
1330h
Another futile expedition to the basement lockup to trove through stored clothing in preparation for an attempt at farm labor, and lo, no stored clothing of any kind. But in fact, it was a setup all round, as there is a 12" sewer pipe going through the lockups, and here was I, troving through blown boxes, some with a white finish on them. And to add to this, the perps hade take another crap and clean up with a shower, which followed lunch where I ate brown sprouted wheat tortillas. All that brown color activity. Most regular readers will know that the perp are totally obsessed with exposing me to brown colored objects, especially if it has anything to do with excrement, mine or someone else's. And too, that the perps dug up some 300' of road to put in two 30" sewer lines that would tie into this building. It was a very ambitious rebuild of the street, and that it would seem they aren't going to let me off the hook without solving their brown and shit problem. Not my problem, so why do I have this gang of supreme assholes in my life timing my crap to their brown color exposure initiatives?
There isn't an answer to that save the ongoing noisestalking, and typo sabotage to make me yell at them. There are still some missing things in the lockup, like a KVM cable I had, as well as a split RCA L/R cable from a single push-in cable. The latter went missing at least four years ago in a move, and I haven't been able to get one since. And moving is the perps favorite time to apply recall deletions; I am astonished that I did not recall there was no stored clothing downstairs in the storage lockup, but when some unbidden party can delete one's recall all to set up a futile search, why they will do it. Which suggests that they had this planned out over a year ago. It was a little over a year ago when I went through all my boxes and carted many off to the local charity that "happens" to be less than a half block away. So it would seem that this toss-out session was planned before then, along with any recall deletion games that they have long pulled on me at this time. I suspect that my native, uncontrolled ability to recollect was just too good for the assholes, as they have been doing this at every move I have made; all manner of objects go missing, and a few ones even show up again. The car stereo amplifier and speakers that went missing in 2006 from my parents place "arrived" in the boxes that were packed in 2003, as determined last year, 2007. And of course, they can somehow access these boxes remotely and dematerialize objects.
1810h
The perps have had me cranked up for the last hour, all as a precursor to me "discovering" Google Analytics while I was intending to delete this because it became an excuse for endless dialog popup boxes. That is how it goes, eliminate the excuses, or cover stories or whatever guise the harassment is in, even if you know it to be totally faked. There are so many things I do differently now just to eliminate the extra noise that gets added in, and yet they crank up the noise all the same, all to get me riled up. Just like the last 40 minutes; constant ranting at the assholes over these dumbshit dialog boxes that keep popping up the instant I intend to click on a link, now obscured by the dialog box.
I did the gym trip again today; it was another dreary freakshow, and I bailed early as the perps had me cranked up over their forced spasms and imbalancing, and before that, the bullshit humming by the fuckwit next to me on the treadmill. I bailed, and then another two dudes arrived after I left, one working on the machine I spent a whole minute on. So that made three dudes in a cluster of side-by-side treadmills, and the remaining five treadmills were availible. I have never seen three dudes cluster up like this before unless they know each other, which wasn't the case. There were also the usual "do-squats" sitting around doing nothing but leaning forward from their seated position, the long observed "lean forward" stalking. They even put a negro on duty, but pulled him after 10 minutes. They tried to keep him in the light, and therefore not as well defined, but once I saw that disgusting skinhead of his, that was it. The perps routinely pull planted negros in my proximity, usually within 5 to 10 minutes. I also had a negro accompany me in the elevator when outbound to the gym. He was dressed in black, with shades on even, and carried a flat black nylon condura briefcase. There are plenty of black gangstalking vehicles outside the apartment now, all since I brought the glossy black Antec PC case back last week. It is very possible that the perps had the case painted with automotive paint, just to "harmonize" the color energetics games that they indulge me in. They need to calibrate me on various colors and lighting, between this apartment and outside, so what better than having a glossy black steel case so it would be comparable to a glossy black monster vehicle parked outside the apartment doors when I get out.
There were two class freaks in gym; Ethnic Gut was featuring himself at a distance though, over 20' and being relatively discreet. And Fatboy was sucking on a cigarette outside the gym; talk about setting the tone for a workout. No wonder he doesn't get to a state of running on the treadmill. Another freak was the Grotesque Granny, who made sure to be seen close in at least two locations; I was hoping that I had seen the last of this one, but no, she is back again. Another freak was the goatee bearded fat man, perhaps Fat Goatee will be his assigned name should he surface at another gym class.
The infernal Oak Bay Fire Department put on their deep red colored firetruck outside the OB Rec. Center (the gym) again. This has to be at least the sixth time they have come by for outside gangstalking with their vehicles, and only once did they stage an emergency. And it wasn't too much of a surprise that three of the fire department goofs showed up in the gym, "happening" to be leading ahead of me when I was headed to the treadmills. They were all their navy blue uniforms, and walked in file, not exactly an inspection by my determination.
1910h
I am in the beam again; an impossible illumination from a "reflection" that does not have a direct line of sight, and "somehow" reaches some 8' into this apartment, lighting up the floor where I am seated. (As pictured in recent past blogs). And this was arranged in the same circumstances as last night; after (brown colored) dinner, doing Quicken updates (today's deposits), rasping and filing noise from above, and generalized other noise from outside.
I finally was able to access my Google Blogger site statistics, and it wasn't too preposessing; 29 page reads in the past three weeks, all occuring in two days, back to back. I suspect the statistics might be arranged, so I am not too concerned that they represent reality. This is a specialized group, us TI's, selected to be cast into hell on earth, all because of their agenda of not declaring themselves to be doing nonconsensual human experimentation. I don't get it, but it has been this way for over 54 years now.
The perps have me cranked up to attempt some farm labor work this week. They are still beating me over this one, and ensuring all other job options just "don't happen somehow" and Craigslist is drying up.
And some detail on the trivial pursuits of the perps; as another one erupted today. I consider the above jerkaround of depleting my recall as to what was in the basement locker to be one such, and this is another. After leaving gym early, I needed to kill some time before my haircut, so I went to the nearby pharmacy that has plenty of food items, and bought some nuts and juice, something I might need soon. I paid cash, and ended up with some coins in my pocket, as I had none in my pocket at the time, taking only enough for the lockers at the gym. While later walking back to my place, I heard coins rattling and "wondered" what it was, as the perps had deleted my recall that I had put some coins in my pocket. They planted the notion that it was a made up noise. When I got back to my place and changed out of my gym pants, there was the pocket change to my "surprise". In other words, the mere knowledge of having pocket change was deleted my my recall and I was screwed into thinking that I didn't have any when I did. And of course, all my faculties of curiousity were also dithered and blocked. It is almost unbelievable that a billion dollar per year budgeted criminal harassment organization stoops so low as to fuck someone out of knowing if they are carrying pocket change or not. It is utterly bizarre as it is stunning and depraved as well as infuriating.
2035h
Another part of the TI experience is getting ripped off. I always purchase Pilot V5 pens with blue ink by the box of 12 at Monk's Office Supply. Today, I got nailed for the per pen price that came to $29. And lo, if I don't find that the competitor's box of 12 is $20. More of the jerking around, enough to take it back which might be what this gambit is all about. And also, I got fucked out of querying the bill at the time; totally fucked with to accomodate the script.
2145h
The perps are working me over tonight; they pulled a total PC lockup. Even the three finger salute was dysfunctional (cntrl, alt, del) so a one-fingered salute was in order, the off button. They kept the music playing while the rest of the browser was locked. Freaking bizarre.
Another jerkaround is the perp spoofing the music player and then having two artists playing at the same time. This jerkaround has been going on for the last year, but they have stepped it up over the past 10 months with more permitted music listening.
2300h
A new muse has come upon me after some troving through the Calgary Folk Festival performer listings; Basia Bulat. Take a listen here, I find her captivating, on par with Jill Barber with whom I am transfixed over as regular readers will know.
Time to call this one done for the day, and ponder what my night might be like tonight. I had the typical harassment Monday night last night; overhead poundings, 1.5 hours of sleeplessness, and a few other stunts to keep me pissed off.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Digging for Plastic
1700h
I am back in the hot seat after a First Feral Family dinner last night, and a stayover at my parent's place, and then digging in their garden to perform directed maintenance. As I have been doing backyard work for some months, today wasn't too different. The neighbors, or faux neighbors, start up their chainsaws, lawn mowers, usually in a prescribed sequential order, and I get my noise barrage in that form, rather than the downtown vehicular traffic roar that I get here at my apartment. Lucky me; there is a noise campaign everywhere I go.
The perps like me to do digging, soil excavation, planting trees and related horticultural work. I am a professional forester when I am allowed to work, and I suppose that is no coincidence either. I had the usual extra-conventional gravitic manipulations and harasssment applied to me while doing the work; extra runny nose, a whack in the back as if I wasn't crouching low enough (I was, this is an old "trick"), a whack in the face "from" a whippy shrub, and a few other imposed adversities. It is odd that I never "remember" to ask my mother for extra pay while being fucked over like this, but if I get paid out like all the other shills and quislings, it should be a decent payday.
I notice that the perps have arranged for my parents to install an irrigation system in their frontyard. A 60' trench has been dug, and the sods stacked beside the trench. I reckon this is a method to expose the subsoil to me while staying there, as it seems that mere gardening activity, including digging, isn't enough. And of course I was only allowed to figure out this now, and not when my mother was going on about the "slack" workers not showing up to finish the job
There has been a surfeit of irrigation installations on my walking beat; at least two public boulevards have been redone with irrigation (~300'), and of course, the work going on with the pipes and heads while walking past. I reckon there is a plastic (PVC) water energetic interaction that the perps are attempting to determine, and are using me as some kind of guinea pig. Regular readers will know that I installed 600' of 2" PVC water line at the farm I once owned with the ex, a financial disaster. From my perspective, it is another of the "been there, done that" category, and they don't have any fucking business to hound me over their problems that might relate to what they don't understand about PVC.
I once had two successive neighbors that burned PVC pipe in their garden refuse, and I always wondered how unlucky I was to have this occur, as dangerous dioxins get released. Now I know; a once covert agency knows that I have certain pollutants in me, and this creates a problem for them and their remote assay fuckery. They tell me, and I have not substantiated this, that the pollutants have certain quantum energy properties that cannot be predicted. So what, it isn't my problem, so why am I involved in it?
The typo sabotage is getting severe, as well as severe rage reactions are being imposed, so it is time to give this one a rest until the assholes settle down. Pre-mealtime is primetime harassment and abuse time.
1745h
The perps got me cranked up, and then dithered as to what I have in the fridge to eat. I had two options, and they wouldn't let me remember or know that this was the case, that there was leftovers from yesterday. That is how tight I am managed; I am not allowed to know in advance what my dinner will be, and nor am I allowed to recall what I have in the fridge. Fucking sick, and sad that some billion dollar budget operation had the wherewithal and the "need" to do this.
Yesterday's First Feral Family outing was scripted to have a visit to LD, the local superdrug store, comparable to Rite Aid. My mother needed some antihistamines, and so I drove the half block to park at the location that is viewable from this very office chair. How convenient it was availible. So with my father, mother and me making an ambulatory visit to the drug store I frequent, it was a golden gangstalk opportunity. There wasn't any Arab sheiks dressed up in robes this time, but it was fully stocked with the aisleway loitering nitwits attempting to look out of place, and my mother seemed to know where to go in the store, as I didn't, not having purchased antihistamines before. Then after a protracted "decision" as to which brand/price etc. she then "needed" to protract the exercise some more by consulting with the pharmacist. Anyhow, there was native Indian woman in a carmine red top ahead of her, and then vagrant type who got into a long voluble harangue all the time she was speaking with the pharmacist. There was at least one other vile red shirted individual coursing around, and he sauntered off ahead of the native Indian woman. The perps had me "interested" in the nearby omega 3,6,9 supplements, and to no surprise given the perps interests in this, there was a huge display, separated by an aisle so to expose me to both sides.
Once we left the store we went past the three white colored vehicles parked together, and then the three red colored vehicles, and no one said anything. Then the vile blonde helmet headed granny who stalks me mostly at my apartment "happened" to be coming by, and it was as if I hadn't gone anywhere. My in-apartment stalker had come to the LD store to gangstalk the three of us together. Later, when on the last suburban leg of the trip, my brother's new neighbor put on the lead-ahead vehicular gangstalk in a light metallic brown SUV to "welcome" us to the neighborhood, and made sure to have their kid on display some 10' from his driveway when I drove in.
At the First Feral Family dinner last night at my brother's place there was the usual fuckery and transparent activities; his sort-of native Indian (for brown skin "need" of the perps) came when we were all sitting at the table. Her arrivals have been highly varied; long in advance, after we arrive, making neighborhood "trips" while I was walking there from the bus trip, and other variants of timing with respect to our, or my, arrival. Her wine was poured at least 30 minutes before she arrived, and yet my brother was still suggesting that she "might" arrive.
And to heighten the fuckery, my brother passed three dishes right over top of my plate, then loaded with dinner, and didn't "somehow" have the fucking manners to ask me to pass the dish to his late arriving gangstalker pal. I thought it was outrageous the first time, but the perps would not let me reconcile this stunt with my knowledge of dinnertime manners, so I was made to fume over it, and not scream in his face which I would have done. (And have done in the past, and he somehow smirks, as the entire event was staged, and my "reactions" are all mind controlled to the script which he has likely rehearsed in advance).
Other games came later, with my father on his supposed Alzheimer's "agitation", standing up for no reason, spinning around in his chair to look at absolutely nothing. Sometimes I ask his what he is looking at at and he gives me this bullshit "huh". Other times he knows exactly what is going on, so I am not convinced the "condition" is for real, or is arranged as his cover story. I mentioned to my brother yesterday that I am not so sure it isn't an act and he didn't say anything. I guess he didn't have the chops to lie, so he said nothing, per perp script. I once asked my brother about an event when he "happened" to be out hiking when I was, though looking a little different so I wasn't sure. When he responded the perps made sure that I was not allowed to look him in the face when he was answering my question. Once I realized I was screwed out of exacting the circumspection I normally apply to quislings and like detritus, I knew he was culpable.
Other strange Feral Family goings-on yesterday was my in-town brother kicking the vehicle tires before we departed, with me as the only vehicle occupant at that moment. His "ersatz" safety check is the cover story, and then he got onto a new stunt. He rubbed the back window and the passenger side mirror in an apparent "attempt" to clean them when there was no cleaned needed whatsover. This seemed to be a method to apply his bioenergetic signature to the glass surfaces when he wasn't there. Every departure from his house is a stupid event; last time he got out the hose in an attempt to spray the vehicle for some imagined "problem", and I backed out before he could. Having seen this bullshit of partial vehicle spraying before, e.g. street boulevard sprinklers, it is time the perps gave this one a rest. I am not allowed to access my knowledge of the entire studpidity and the transparent perp fuckery that it embraces, and nor his extra uncharacteristic cheeriness.
I have the buzzy feet currently; they have been imparted this sensation of high vibration, and it continues even when I go to bed. It must me a way of correlating my bioenergetics between locations in my apartment as well as the prone position, in bed. The overhead clunking is noisestalking me on my typo corrections or anytime the perps make me annoyed over the typo sabotage that is going on, and hopefully repaired. The train whistle nonsense noise has started up; my mother told me that this was a common noise when we lived in Montreal in 1956-7, though I have no recall of this. No doubt the noise was perps managed, though in they do have a better cover story there than here. (One day train, and we are a half mile from the station, with at least 10 blocks of buildings in the way).
1825h
I am getting extensive forehead numbing applied to me, and it is highly agitating. This is where one's forehead is numbed, and it feels like it doesn't belong, and is instantly alleviated by rubbing my head, and changing the bioenergetic signature. This relief lasts a few minutes at best before it is applied again. I sense the real objective is the head rubbing exercise, given the high percentage of perp operatives rubbing their heads in public for no seeming reason, and even following the same protocol.
1830h
More rage-ification over typo sabotage repairs. And more noisestalking while this occurs. Regular readers will know that the stayover at my parents on Sunday nights, and the Monday departure, are prime harassment days, even to the point of extending it my keeping me awake for an extra four hours, or only allowing a REM sleep only. It is one day they go fucking beserk, and yet keep me inside once I return.
When I drove up in the vehicle after lunch, the perps had an adult dwarf "hanging around" the entrance to this apartment building. My mother was even scripted to give the topic more airtime by mentioning it, which I had already noticed. The person was dressed in black pants and a a white shirt, and I have no idea why this particular freak was assigned for sentry duty at that particular juncture. This kind of freak is rare, but the perps made sure that I noticed. Regular readers will know that I am constantly exposed to a freakshow, but as this was a instance of only 20 seconds of being outside on foot, they felt compelled to freakify that short interval. And lo, if they even put on a "doorman", someone suddenly exiting as I was approaching the front door; he less freakish, but still one of the Unfavored, a redhaired dude seeming in a hurry, maximizing his bioenergetic interaction, much like swiping a magnet; the faster it is swiped past a coil, the more electromagnetism it creates. And lo, if I didn't "happen" to forget all about this until I was reading about dwarf stars, and bingo, yet another "theme for the day" wasn't invoked.
The same theme fuckery has been "happening" over haircuts; I am going to get one tomorrow, and there has been at least three conversations that have been arranged where this topic has "somehow" been introduced.
2100h
More overhead rumbling that folllowed my every mouseclick; the perps have removed my link annotation that denotes past use, the purple color, and replaced it with blue again, all to have me re-visit past links. They combine this with recall deletion to effectively replicate linking and reading a web page anew. This is impossible in the unharassed world; once something is seen or read, it is old; seen previously. Well now, they can delete any of my recall, and do so routinely along with the converting the link color back to blue, and then walking me through I web page as if I hadn't seen it before, which is not true. Somewhere about halfway through do they all me to know what I know, and "recognize" the web page as one that was seen before. Only in this sick predicament is one's thoughts and knowledge kept from them.
2230h
Some interesting web troving on modified stereos caught my attention for a time, and that was duly noisestalked by the overhead pounding, albeit the soft thudding kind. The perps are very interested in anything that I find interesting as it seems they cannot yet fuck with this kind of mental process. Give then a few more weeks at best, and I won't know the difference.
A brutal day for typo sabotage and all round enragement games. Thank goodness I don't do anything complex, as it would be impossible to do with these assholes on my back. With stuttered navy blue plasma beams sitting over top of my hands, it is time to blog off, refrain from editing anymore and hope the above is coherent.
I am back in the hot seat after a First Feral Family dinner last night, and a stayover at my parent's place, and then digging in their garden to perform directed maintenance. As I have been doing backyard work for some months, today wasn't too different. The neighbors, or faux neighbors, start up their chainsaws, lawn mowers, usually in a prescribed sequential order, and I get my noise barrage in that form, rather than the downtown vehicular traffic roar that I get here at my apartment. Lucky me; there is a noise campaign everywhere I go.
The perps like me to do digging, soil excavation, planting trees and related horticultural work. I am a professional forester when I am allowed to work, and I suppose that is no coincidence either. I had the usual extra-conventional gravitic manipulations and harasssment applied to me while doing the work; extra runny nose, a whack in the back as if I wasn't crouching low enough (I was, this is an old "trick"), a whack in the face "from" a whippy shrub, and a few other imposed adversities. It is odd that I never "remember" to ask my mother for extra pay while being fucked over like this, but if I get paid out like all the other shills and quislings, it should be a decent payday.
I notice that the perps have arranged for my parents to install an irrigation system in their frontyard. A 60' trench has been dug, and the sods stacked beside the trench. I reckon this is a method to expose the subsoil to me while staying there, as it seems that mere gardening activity, including digging, isn't enough. And of course I was only allowed to figure out this now, and not when my mother was going on about the "slack" workers not showing up to finish the job
There has been a surfeit of irrigation installations on my walking beat; at least two public boulevards have been redone with irrigation (~300'), and of course, the work going on with the pipes and heads while walking past. I reckon there is a plastic (PVC) water energetic interaction that the perps are attempting to determine, and are using me as some kind of guinea pig. Regular readers will know that I installed 600' of 2" PVC water line at the farm I once owned with the ex, a financial disaster. From my perspective, it is another of the "been there, done that" category, and they don't have any fucking business to hound me over their problems that might relate to what they don't understand about PVC.
I once had two successive neighbors that burned PVC pipe in their garden refuse, and I always wondered how unlucky I was to have this occur, as dangerous dioxins get released. Now I know; a once covert agency knows that I have certain pollutants in me, and this creates a problem for them and their remote assay fuckery. They tell me, and I have not substantiated this, that the pollutants have certain quantum energy properties that cannot be predicted. So what, it isn't my problem, so why am I involved in it?
The typo sabotage is getting severe, as well as severe rage reactions are being imposed, so it is time to give this one a rest until the assholes settle down. Pre-mealtime is primetime harassment and abuse time.
1745h
The perps got me cranked up, and then dithered as to what I have in the fridge to eat. I had two options, and they wouldn't let me remember or know that this was the case, that there was leftovers from yesterday. That is how tight I am managed; I am not allowed to know in advance what my dinner will be, and nor am I allowed to recall what I have in the fridge. Fucking sick, and sad that some billion dollar budget operation had the wherewithal and the "need" to do this.
Yesterday's First Feral Family outing was scripted to have a visit to LD, the local superdrug store, comparable to Rite Aid. My mother needed some antihistamines, and so I drove the half block to park at the location that is viewable from this very office chair. How convenient it was availible. So with my father, mother and me making an ambulatory visit to the drug store I frequent, it was a golden gangstalk opportunity. There wasn't any Arab sheiks dressed up in robes this time, but it was fully stocked with the aisleway loitering nitwits attempting to look out of place, and my mother seemed to know where to go in the store, as I didn't, not having purchased antihistamines before. Then after a protracted "decision" as to which brand/price etc. she then "needed" to protract the exercise some more by consulting with the pharmacist. Anyhow, there was native Indian woman in a carmine red top ahead of her, and then vagrant type who got into a long voluble harangue all the time she was speaking with the pharmacist. There was at least one other vile red shirted individual coursing around, and he sauntered off ahead of the native Indian woman. The perps had me "interested" in the nearby omega 3,6,9 supplements, and to no surprise given the perps interests in this, there was a huge display, separated by an aisle so to expose me to both sides.
Once we left the store we went past the three white colored vehicles parked together, and then the three red colored vehicles, and no one said anything. Then the vile blonde helmet headed granny who stalks me mostly at my apartment "happened" to be coming by, and it was as if I hadn't gone anywhere. My in-apartment stalker had come to the LD store to gangstalk the three of us together. Later, when on the last suburban leg of the trip, my brother's new neighbor put on the lead-ahead vehicular gangstalk in a light metallic brown SUV to "welcome" us to the neighborhood, and made sure to have their kid on display some 10' from his driveway when I drove in.
At the First Feral Family dinner last night at my brother's place there was the usual fuckery and transparent activities; his sort-of native Indian (for brown skin "need" of the perps) came when we were all sitting at the table. Her arrivals have been highly varied; long in advance, after we arrive, making neighborhood "trips" while I was walking there from the bus trip, and other variants of timing with respect to our, or my, arrival. Her wine was poured at least 30 minutes before she arrived, and yet my brother was still suggesting that she "might" arrive.
And to heighten the fuckery, my brother passed three dishes right over top of my plate, then loaded with dinner, and didn't "somehow" have the fucking manners to ask me to pass the dish to his late arriving gangstalker pal. I thought it was outrageous the first time, but the perps would not let me reconcile this stunt with my knowledge of dinnertime manners, so I was made to fume over it, and not scream in his face which I would have done. (And have done in the past, and he somehow smirks, as the entire event was staged, and my "reactions" are all mind controlled to the script which he has likely rehearsed in advance).
Other games came later, with my father on his supposed Alzheimer's "agitation", standing up for no reason, spinning around in his chair to look at absolutely nothing. Sometimes I ask his what he is looking at at and he gives me this bullshit "huh". Other times he knows exactly what is going on, so I am not convinced the "condition" is for real, or is arranged as his cover story. I mentioned to my brother yesterday that I am not so sure it isn't an act and he didn't say anything. I guess he didn't have the chops to lie, so he said nothing, per perp script. I once asked my brother about an event when he "happened" to be out hiking when I was, though looking a little different so I wasn't sure. When he responded the perps made sure that I was not allowed to look him in the face when he was answering my question. Once I realized I was screwed out of exacting the circumspection I normally apply to quislings and like detritus, I knew he was culpable.
Other strange Feral Family goings-on yesterday was my in-town brother kicking the vehicle tires before we departed, with me as the only vehicle occupant at that moment. His "ersatz" safety check is the cover story, and then he got onto a new stunt. He rubbed the back window and the passenger side mirror in an apparent "attempt" to clean them when there was no cleaned needed whatsover. This seemed to be a method to apply his bioenergetic signature to the glass surfaces when he wasn't there. Every departure from his house is a stupid event; last time he got out the hose in an attempt to spray the vehicle for some imagined "problem", and I backed out before he could. Having seen this bullshit of partial vehicle spraying before, e.g. street boulevard sprinklers, it is time the perps gave this one a rest. I am not allowed to access my knowledge of the entire studpidity and the transparent perp fuckery that it embraces, and nor his extra uncharacteristic cheeriness.
I have the buzzy feet currently; they have been imparted this sensation of high vibration, and it continues even when I go to bed. It must me a way of correlating my bioenergetics between locations in my apartment as well as the prone position, in bed. The overhead clunking is noisestalking me on my typo corrections or anytime the perps make me annoyed over the typo sabotage that is going on, and hopefully repaired. The train whistle nonsense noise has started up; my mother told me that this was a common noise when we lived in Montreal in 1956-7, though I have no recall of this. No doubt the noise was perps managed, though in they do have a better cover story there than here. (One day train, and we are a half mile from the station, with at least 10 blocks of buildings in the way).
1825h
I am getting extensive forehead numbing applied to me, and it is highly agitating. This is where one's forehead is numbed, and it feels like it doesn't belong, and is instantly alleviated by rubbing my head, and changing the bioenergetic signature. This relief lasts a few minutes at best before it is applied again. I sense the real objective is the head rubbing exercise, given the high percentage of perp operatives rubbing their heads in public for no seeming reason, and even following the same protocol.
1830h
More rage-ification over typo sabotage repairs. And more noisestalking while this occurs. Regular readers will know that the stayover at my parents on Sunday nights, and the Monday departure, are prime harassment days, even to the point of extending it my keeping me awake for an extra four hours, or only allowing a REM sleep only. It is one day they go fucking beserk, and yet keep me inside once I return.
When I drove up in the vehicle after lunch, the perps had an adult dwarf "hanging around" the entrance to this apartment building. My mother was even scripted to give the topic more airtime by mentioning it, which I had already noticed. The person was dressed in black pants and a a white shirt, and I have no idea why this particular freak was assigned for sentry duty at that particular juncture. This kind of freak is rare, but the perps made sure that I noticed. Regular readers will know that I am constantly exposed to a freakshow, but as this was a instance of only 20 seconds of being outside on foot, they felt compelled to freakify that short interval. And lo, if they even put on a "doorman", someone suddenly exiting as I was approaching the front door; he less freakish, but still one of the Unfavored, a redhaired dude seeming in a hurry, maximizing his bioenergetic interaction, much like swiping a magnet; the faster it is swiped past a coil, the more electromagnetism it creates. And lo, if I didn't "happen" to forget all about this until I was reading about dwarf stars, and bingo, yet another "theme for the day" wasn't invoked.
The same theme fuckery has been "happening" over haircuts; I am going to get one tomorrow, and there has been at least three conversations that have been arranged where this topic has "somehow" been introduced.
2100h
More overhead rumbling that folllowed my every mouseclick; the perps have removed my link annotation that denotes past use, the purple color, and replaced it with blue again, all to have me re-visit past links. They combine this with recall deletion to effectively replicate linking and reading a web page anew. This is impossible in the unharassed world; once something is seen or read, it is old; seen previously. Well now, they can delete any of my recall, and do so routinely along with the converting the link color back to blue, and then walking me through I web page as if I hadn't seen it before, which is not true. Somewhere about halfway through do they all me to know what I know, and "recognize" the web page as one that was seen before. Only in this sick predicament is one's thoughts and knowledge kept from them.
2230h
Some interesting web troving on modified stereos caught my attention for a time, and that was duly noisestalked by the overhead pounding, albeit the soft thudding kind. The perps are very interested in anything that I find interesting as it seems they cannot yet fuck with this kind of mental process. Give then a few more weeks at best, and I won't know the difference.
A brutal day for typo sabotage and all round enragement games. Thank goodness I don't do anything complex, as it would be impossible to do with these assholes on my back. With stuttered navy blue plasma beams sitting over top of my hands, it is time to blog off, refrain from editing anymore and hope the above is coherent.
Monday, February 18, 2008
More Masers More Than Ever
1340h
It is a post-parent's place stay day, that being Monday. And true to form, within 20 minutes of a meal the perps are pressuring my prefrontal cortex, the brain part behind my forehead. The masers also start to get more frequent then, these grey or black blobs, wispy trails or fluffballs that course around in my vision, sometimes in concert with outside noises, but mostly like flotsam in a river backeddy. At my parent's place last night the perps were lauching maser flashes off the TV, usually a section of an object as it was portrayed, though I cannot recall what type of object.
And another round of shit games last night too, and one where my parents were each individually participating in the nonconsensual human experimental games. It was a small shit leak in my underwear, and my mother took a bath which was behind my head one half story up, and my father took about 20 minutes to cover all of 4' of carpet, standing up all the time and moving ever so slowly on a W track beside his chair. His final gangstalk position before sitting down was to stand with one leg either side of the chair arm, all to look even more absurd as the final standing gangstalk position. This would be considered gangstalking in slow motion, and his dementia is the cover story, but I don't buy that for a second as he is way too consistent and methodical, never mind being a paid-up accomplice for everything else, selling his first born to the perps for chrissakes. Forgiveness is not even a concept, and only wholesale mind fuckery will change that, and it had better not.
I was exactly between them, in a line, with my mother behind the wall in the bathroom, taking a bath, an activity that is highly correlated with harassment abettment. My father was doing the very slow incremental walk 4' in front of me while watching the TV. Bizarre, even for a demential patient which I don't think he is.
Another bizarre event on two accounts, and made so for me to blog about it, was the passing of a friend of my parent's, an Oak Bay mayor and councillor for 26 years, Mr. Watts on Feb. 08, 2008 (last week). I visited my parents last weekend, Feb. 10 and they didn't tell me anything about it. Then on Feb. 15 when talking to my brother in Kamloops, he told me. Fine. The next day my in-town brother "happened" to need me, and he mentions the "funeral" somehow knowing that I knew about it. Then yesterday, my mother talks about the "funeral", again somehow knowing that I knew when she would of been the logical person to tell me, but didn't. The funeral was on Feb. 11, so I wasn't expected to be there, but it is most strange that I am informed after the fact and then everyone seems to know when I became informed. My ex drove my parents to the funeral, scooping my usual duties, and so it would seem that I wasn't to know until long after the fact. (And no, they don't talk much among themselves unlike close families). Anyhow, this might all be to get me to blog about it as death, demise, obituaries and all things related to this topic are of intense perp interest all the time. The noisestalking immediately starts should I be controlled to even glance at the "d" word.
Yesterday's trip to Linen and Things was the usual First Feral Family gangstalking, and there were at least three reprises from an East Indian woman; at the front, middle and back of the store. Her coming around caused me to think (or was a planted suggestion), that it might have been my sister-in-law in morphover form. Anyhow, I got two new pillows and pillow covers and got rid of the disgusting yellowized ones the perps did in. A photo below. I kept the items in their vehicle overnight which might have been the reason the shiftless male fuckers were all over me this morning when I got dropped off. Out from nowhere they come, always when I am not looking, and I even got a black leather dressed dude in the elevator to accompany me after looking through my mail, putting on the banter about a nice day it was and how nice it would be for a walk when he was heading indoors. Go figure.
A visit to a housegoods store is also a tour of the many plastics items that are on display, as they tell me that plastics pollution causes uncharacteristic variations in electromagnetic response, making this a near six year campaign so far. Not my problem. By touring the store with my parents and toting around their purchase, a stainless steel garbage can wrapped in poly plastic inside a brown cardboard box (parent's purchase), it was a prime moment to be remotely assessed for the perp's major fixations; the color brown and plastic interactions. There was the usual MIB in fleece sweeping the aisle ahead of us before we got to look at yet more plastics, the vinyls in this case, my mother "needing" to look, but not to buy.
This morning, when still at my parent's place, thinking that mattress stalking games were done, why, my mother "needed" my help to rotate hers this morning. Not a big deal, and I was reminded of last week's mattress stalking when they brought it into the elevator for chrissakes. Funny how I only learned that now, and wasn't allowed to make the association at the time. There is too much of this recall obstruction going on, and also too many garbage associations (read, planted) coming into mind.
Yesterday, my daughter and my ex came by to my parent's place, and she had her new (used) Hyundai vehicle to show off. It is a two door model plus hatchback, white with a custom blue swoosh-like detail line on it, and had all the comforts. I gave her my vehicle in 2006, a silver-grey 1982 Volvo 245 in good condition, but that didn't cut it. I suspect the perps bought it off her, if only as a souvenir as the most tailed vehicle in the history of mankind. Now that my ex and my daughter have a white colored vehicle, plus a silver grey Subaru, the perps should be in harassment heaven, making comparisons as to the energetics interactions between them and their respective vehicles. This also tells me that the perps don't have a clue as to how colors interact between vehicle and driver, and that my harassment has at least a year or two to run before the clowns get this one figured out.
Here are some recent pictures from my apartment. This pair of concentric 180 degree turning vehicles was scripted for me to see, and there is nothing unusual for my orchestrated existence about this vehicle configuration, and the red and white paired combination. Not bad, a blocked off street gets two vehicles doing the same thing with perfect comprehension between the drivers' respective U turns as to who is doing what.
14:31 37sec on 02-01-2008
14:31 50 sec on 02-01-2008
Nothing too far out in this picture; these vehicles are all stopped at the traffic light. The closest lane are mobile vehicle, the further lane with the blue vehicle is parked with one of my least favorite vehicles to look at. The stopped vehicles are all spaced by a vehicle length between them, which is becoming very common now, even this morning, I had the vehicle ahead of me leaving a big gap, and the one behind me backed off by 12'. The lead vehicle is stopped over the stop line and this is now pretty much universal anytime I see stopped traffic. At least 20% of the time they even stop in the crosswalk now, a "new" mass driving behavior since mid-2007.
Taken 14:28 on 02-09-2008. All vehicles are either parked or stopped. The closest two lanes are stopped at their respective traffic controls, and the furtherest most lane is parked. Again, notice that the lead vehicle in the stopped lane (red sedan) is stopped over the stop line, per above. And notice that there is extra spacing between the vehicles, also noted in above photo. The parked vehicles exibit organized order in having two silver grey vehicles parked behind two black pickup trucks. The perps are getting more bold with displaying brown colored vehicles now; a light metallic brown vehicle is second in the file facing right, closest lane.
This is of my bed and the change over of the pillows, something the perps did that has been pissing me off. The old yellow pillows are on the floor with the old pillow cases on top, incrementally yellowized by some means since I got them in 2003. I could not launder the color out, and it only served as the excuse by the perps to blow a hole in the seam to reveal the stuffing thereafter. The new ones are on the bed, the left one in its new pillow case, and the right one as it is out of the plastic packaging. As this is where I place my head for 8 to 11 hours per night per the script, pillow and bedding color has an enormous impact on the remote assay of me and all my energetic interactions.
And many more arranged coincidences these days, usually when talking to someone. An image, a repeat, or a theme will be repeated, sometimes within the minute. My mother was talking about the grounds of her property and the gardening load, and what to do with the "dead branches" while I was driving into downtown. And lo, if my attention wasn't directed to a clump of dead branches placed at the side of the road within two seconds of her making that statement. There is getting to be too many of these to document, and the perps also delete them from my recall as I have come to know. (The "d" word again).
1935h
After some attentive reading about leading edge stereo equipment, the clunking started up, the annoying noises to force earmuff use, noises through the earmuffs, and then the whirr of a vacuum cleaner from my "neighbors".
2200h
Another forced crap, and the perps made me need a shower to clean up. They like these late day showers without shampooing my hair. This morning, owing to the forced "forget" of my toiletries bag with shampoo in it, and the sudden "disappearance" of the shampoo I left at my parents place, and no other shampoo, I was obliged to clean my hair with conditioner only. This might sound like a juvenile prank, and it is, but also tells me the assholes are still attempting to figure out the energetic signature of each, and the plastic container colors that they come in. They forced me off using Pantene products which I liked by dithering my knowledge of the bottles and their contents as well as removing the terms " shampoo" and "conditioner" from the label, making me into a befuddled mess to force an alternative brand in blue plastic bottles. This is one more example of the myriad of games that they are following and harassing the fuck out of me over. And the real root of the plastic problem (for them) is that I have ingested plastic pollutants in me, like anyone else. The perps have their hand in every major industrial process, and so this problem sits on their doorstep and as a consequence, have decided to take in out on me. A fuck the victim mentality, emboldened by fucking up. Go figure.
And I note a big meat recall in the US in the news. That maybe all there is to it, but given the amount of effort they devote to gangstalking me for my once per week red meat that I eat at my parent's place, I have a notion their dark hand is behind this, though the particulars aren't apparent to me as there seems to be a number of interacting factors at play. Another "not my problem", so why am I being sampled only once per week on red meat?
And there won't be any answer to that, as there are way too many objectives that have been dumped on my back, most of which are esoteric and not understood beyond observing the harassment trends. My take on this is at this link, and the next.
That should be it for tonight; I was allowed some detailed reading for once, and sucked up some interesting stereo reviews and was duly mind controlled into reveries over building my dream system. Quite the escapism for being under the perps thumb; three CD players have been whacked by them, three pairs of headphones have also been taken out, and they only let me listen to music about once every three days or else they turn the event into an auditory assault, pumping through Windows popup tones, courtesy of their duty juvies.
It is a post-parent's place stay day, that being Monday. And true to form, within 20 minutes of a meal the perps are pressuring my prefrontal cortex, the brain part behind my forehead. The masers also start to get more frequent then, these grey or black blobs, wispy trails or fluffballs that course around in my vision, sometimes in concert with outside noises, but mostly like flotsam in a river backeddy. At my parent's place last night the perps were lauching maser flashes off the TV, usually a section of an object as it was portrayed, though I cannot recall what type of object.
And another round of shit games last night too, and one where my parents were each individually participating in the nonconsensual human experimental games. It was a small shit leak in my underwear, and my mother took a bath which was behind my head one half story up, and my father took about 20 minutes to cover all of 4' of carpet, standing up all the time and moving ever so slowly on a W track beside his chair. His final gangstalk position before sitting down was to stand with one leg either side of the chair arm, all to look even more absurd as the final standing gangstalk position. This would be considered gangstalking in slow motion, and his dementia is the cover story, but I don't buy that for a second as he is way too consistent and methodical, never mind being a paid-up accomplice for everything else, selling his first born to the perps for chrissakes. Forgiveness is not even a concept, and only wholesale mind fuckery will change that, and it had better not.
I was exactly between them, in a line, with my mother behind the wall in the bathroom, taking a bath, an activity that is highly correlated with harassment abettment. My father was doing the very slow incremental walk 4' in front of me while watching the TV. Bizarre, even for a demential patient which I don't think he is.
Another bizarre event on two accounts, and made so for me to blog about it, was the passing of a friend of my parent's, an Oak Bay mayor and councillor for 26 years, Mr. Watts on Feb. 08, 2008 (last week). I visited my parents last weekend, Feb. 10 and they didn't tell me anything about it. Then on Feb. 15 when talking to my brother in Kamloops, he told me. Fine. The next day my in-town brother "happened" to need me, and he mentions the "funeral" somehow knowing that I knew about it. Then yesterday, my mother talks about the "funeral", again somehow knowing that I knew when she would of been the logical person to tell me, but didn't. The funeral was on Feb. 11, so I wasn't expected to be there, but it is most strange that I am informed after the fact and then everyone seems to know when I became informed. My ex drove my parents to the funeral, scooping my usual duties, and so it would seem that I wasn't to know until long after the fact. (And no, they don't talk much among themselves unlike close families). Anyhow, this might all be to get me to blog about it as death, demise, obituaries and all things related to this topic are of intense perp interest all the time. The noisestalking immediately starts should I be controlled to even glance at the "d" word.
Yesterday's trip to Linen and Things was the usual First Feral Family gangstalking, and there were at least three reprises from an East Indian woman; at the front, middle and back of the store. Her coming around caused me to think (or was a planted suggestion), that it might have been my sister-in-law in morphover form. Anyhow, I got two new pillows and pillow covers and got rid of the disgusting yellowized ones the perps did in. A photo below. I kept the items in their vehicle overnight which might have been the reason the shiftless male fuckers were all over me this morning when I got dropped off. Out from nowhere they come, always when I am not looking, and I even got a black leather dressed dude in the elevator to accompany me after looking through my mail, putting on the banter about a nice day it was and how nice it would be for a walk when he was heading indoors. Go figure.
A visit to a housegoods store is also a tour of the many plastics items that are on display, as they tell me that plastics pollution causes uncharacteristic variations in electromagnetic response, making this a near six year campaign so far. Not my problem. By touring the store with my parents and toting around their purchase, a stainless steel garbage can wrapped in poly plastic inside a brown cardboard box (parent's purchase), it was a prime moment to be remotely assessed for the perp's major fixations; the color brown and plastic interactions. There was the usual MIB in fleece sweeping the aisle ahead of us before we got to look at yet more plastics, the vinyls in this case, my mother "needing" to look, but not to buy.
This morning, when still at my parent's place, thinking that mattress stalking games were done, why, my mother "needed" my help to rotate hers this morning. Not a big deal, and I was reminded of last week's mattress stalking when they brought it into the elevator for chrissakes. Funny how I only learned that now, and wasn't allowed to make the association at the time. There is too much of this recall obstruction going on, and also too many garbage associations (read, planted) coming into mind.
Yesterday, my daughter and my ex came by to my parent's place, and she had her new (used) Hyundai vehicle to show off. It is a two door model plus hatchback, white with a custom blue swoosh-like detail line on it, and had all the comforts. I gave her my vehicle in 2006, a silver-grey 1982 Volvo 245 in good condition, but that didn't cut it. I suspect the perps bought it off her, if only as a souvenir as the most tailed vehicle in the history of mankind. Now that my ex and my daughter have a white colored vehicle, plus a silver grey Subaru, the perps should be in harassment heaven, making comparisons as to the energetics interactions between them and their respective vehicles. This also tells me that the perps don't have a clue as to how colors interact between vehicle and driver, and that my harassment has at least a year or two to run before the clowns get this one figured out.
Here are some recent pictures from my apartment. This pair of concentric 180 degree turning vehicles was scripted for me to see, and there is nothing unusual for my orchestrated existence about this vehicle configuration, and the red and white paired combination. Not bad, a blocked off street gets two vehicles doing the same thing with perfect comprehension between the drivers' respective U turns as to who is doing what.
14:31 37sec on 02-01-2008
14:31 50 sec on 02-01-2008
Nothing too far out in this picture; these vehicles are all stopped at the traffic light. The closest lane are mobile vehicle, the further lane with the blue vehicle is parked with one of my least favorite vehicles to look at. The stopped vehicles are all spaced by a vehicle length between them, which is becoming very common now, even this morning, I had the vehicle ahead of me leaving a big gap, and the one behind me backed off by 12'. The lead vehicle is stopped over the stop line and this is now pretty much universal anytime I see stopped traffic. At least 20% of the time they even stop in the crosswalk now, a "new" mass driving behavior since mid-2007.
Taken 14:28 on 02-09-2008. All vehicles are either parked or stopped. The closest two lanes are stopped at their respective traffic controls, and the furtherest most lane is parked. Again, notice that the lead vehicle in the stopped lane (red sedan) is stopped over the stop line, per above. And notice that there is extra spacing between the vehicles, also noted in above photo. The parked vehicles exibit organized order in having two silver grey vehicles parked behind two black pickup trucks. The perps are getting more bold with displaying brown colored vehicles now; a light metallic brown vehicle is second in the file facing right, closest lane.
This is of my bed and the change over of the pillows, something the perps did that has been pissing me off. The old yellow pillows are on the floor with the old pillow cases on top, incrementally yellowized by some means since I got them in 2003. I could not launder the color out, and it only served as the excuse by the perps to blow a hole in the seam to reveal the stuffing thereafter. The new ones are on the bed, the left one in its new pillow case, and the right one as it is out of the plastic packaging. As this is where I place my head for 8 to 11 hours per night per the script, pillow and bedding color has an enormous impact on the remote assay of me and all my energetic interactions.
And many more arranged coincidences these days, usually when talking to someone. An image, a repeat, or a theme will be repeated, sometimes within the minute. My mother was talking about the grounds of her property and the gardening load, and what to do with the "dead branches" while I was driving into downtown. And lo, if my attention wasn't directed to a clump of dead branches placed at the side of the road within two seconds of her making that statement. There is getting to be too many of these to document, and the perps also delete them from my recall as I have come to know. (The "d" word again).
1935h
After some attentive reading about leading edge stereo equipment, the clunking started up, the annoying noises to force earmuff use, noises through the earmuffs, and then the whirr of a vacuum cleaner from my "neighbors".
2200h
Another forced crap, and the perps made me need a shower to clean up. They like these late day showers without shampooing my hair. This morning, owing to the forced "forget" of my toiletries bag with shampoo in it, and the sudden "disappearance" of the shampoo I left at my parents place, and no other shampoo, I was obliged to clean my hair with conditioner only. This might sound like a juvenile prank, and it is, but also tells me the assholes are still attempting to figure out the energetic signature of each, and the plastic container colors that they come in. They forced me off using Pantene products which I liked by dithering my knowledge of the bottles and their contents as well as removing the terms " shampoo" and "conditioner" from the label, making me into a befuddled mess to force an alternative brand in blue plastic bottles. This is one more example of the myriad of games that they are following and harassing the fuck out of me over. And the real root of the plastic problem (for them) is that I have ingested plastic pollutants in me, like anyone else. The perps have their hand in every major industrial process, and so this problem sits on their doorstep and as a consequence, have decided to take in out on me. A fuck the victim mentality, emboldened by fucking up. Go figure.
And I note a big meat recall in the US in the news. That maybe all there is to it, but given the amount of effort they devote to gangstalking me for my once per week red meat that I eat at my parent's place, I have a notion their dark hand is behind this, though the particulars aren't apparent to me as there seems to be a number of interacting factors at play. Another "not my problem", so why am I being sampled only once per week on red meat?
And there won't be any answer to that, as there are way too many objectives that have been dumped on my back, most of which are esoteric and not understood beyond observing the harassment trends. My take on this is at this link, and the next.
That should be it for tonight; I was allowed some detailed reading for once, and sucked up some interesting stereo reviews and was duly mind controlled into reveries over building my dream system. Quite the escapism for being under the perps thumb; three CD players have been whacked by them, three pairs of headphones have also been taken out, and they only let me listen to music about once every three days or else they turn the event into an auditory assault, pumping through Windows popup tones, courtesy of their duty juvies.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Post Spreadsheet Perspective
2020h
I have done some 6 hours of spreadsheet activity today, and have concluded that I, or anyone else, can be roundly mind-controlled over every minute aspect of select, copy, cut, paste, keystroking, selecting and applying fill colors, copying, merging and demerging whole cells, font changes, border changes, finding my place after looking at another spreadsheet and the rest of the Excel experience. And plenty of recall obliterations of read cell content as well. There is no end of mileage the perps get from forcing me to make mistakes, from the smallest to largest, no matter the context, the minutae of Excel to major life decisions.
I also had a noise and activity coincidences; the exact moment that I picked up a green binder (plastic), a woman burst forth from her office, the door locks making an excessive clicking noise, and she parading past in her hideous orange outfit. The background noise of the German male speaking heavily accented English was back, as were a few other individuals, and the excessive coughing and sneezing passbys. I was also rudely followed in the office; I was let in through a locked door, and this pony-tailed dude ended up instantly on my heels walking at my same fast pace, following me around the corner, still on my ass for some 30 linear feet of travel. He had to of been teleported to get on me without hearing his approach. Nothing new there, but as a volunteer to aid their laudable public activities, I am pissed off that this is how I get treated. Two days ago at the same location and doing the same activity I was subject to getting a copper colored vinyl handbag stuffed in my face. Fucking outrageous, being kept there as stalking bait, the thankless jerks.
11-29-2007
1010h
A forced "forget" to post this last night; without any editorial review even.
I have done some 6 hours of spreadsheet activity today, and have concluded that I, or anyone else, can be roundly mind-controlled over every minute aspect of select, copy, cut, paste, keystroking, selecting and applying fill colors, copying, merging and demerging whole cells, font changes, border changes, finding my place after looking at another spreadsheet and the rest of the Excel experience. And plenty of recall obliterations of read cell content as well. There is no end of mileage the perps get from forcing me to make mistakes, from the smallest to largest, no matter the context, the minutae of Excel to major life decisions.
I also had a noise and activity coincidences; the exact moment that I picked up a green binder (plastic), a woman burst forth from her office, the door locks making an excessive clicking noise, and she parading past in her hideous orange outfit. The background noise of the German male speaking heavily accented English was back, as were a few other individuals, and the excessive coughing and sneezing passbys. I was also rudely followed in the office; I was let in through a locked door, and this pony-tailed dude ended up instantly on my heels walking at my same fast pace, following me around the corner, still on my ass for some 30 linear feet of travel. He had to of been teleported to get on me without hearing his approach. Nothing new there, but as a volunteer to aid their laudable public activities, I am pissed off that this is how I get treated. Two days ago at the same location and doing the same activity I was subject to getting a copper colored vinyl handbag stuffed in my face. Fucking outrageous, being kept there as stalking bait, the thankless jerks.
11-29-2007
1010h
A forced "forget" to post this last night; without any editorial review even.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Application Clobbering
1315h
The first attempt to create this posting also got clobbered; the remote controlled finger fumble "miskey" stunt, and poof, the first take was erased.
The instignating event was a download that got clobbered by a Google search that wiped it out, and thereby having the download repeat. This is such a common event, that it has likely got no mention in these pages until now. That is, an application, a phone call, a conference call, the typing of a word, or any routine activity has been, or will be, clobbered, "cancelled", interupted or otherwise interfered with to cause a restart of the activity. I cannot think of a single instance where this hasn't happened.
Even one-on-one meetings will be routinely interupted, often by a phone call, and the other person is absent for a few minutes, and then returns. Even hyphenating words in this paragraph gets screwed with, and only later am I allowed to know that it is needed. The axiom that I live by is; "do it twice, or more, once for them, and finally for me". And I am sure that is a planted phrase as well. Hence the faux brake squealing noise that erupted outside when I typed it.
I had my very own Remeberance parade outside my place today, shortly after having lunch, timed for the post-meal digestion period. Pictures to follow.
And more gratuitous and prolonged jabbing and like pains are also becoming the norm. It would seem that Thursday is the intense action day for the perps with plenty of spine stretching yoga followed by a gym workout in the afternoon. And as it happens, the planted testicle jabbing goes on while walking, though not yet at a wincing level.
A like persistent pain has started up in my right hand; a piece of seeming metal was stuck there last night after logging off for the day, and when it came time to deal with it, it was "gone". And without any provocation or touch, this needle jab like pain keeps recurring, as if something was there. Other pain jabbings "happen" in my knees when standing at the kitchen counter and handling food. This seems to be minimal for now, though it wouldn't take much for the assholes to fake an event and have it at near permanent levels. This has been done in the past; a spiral fracture in my left hand when timber cruising some 30 years ago seemed to have all the attributes of being "managed". One of the tip-offs is that it happens at the end of the day or journey, with the perps benefitting from a full day of relatively "normal". A cut eyelid a few years later had the same timing in the same line of work. Nothing can be taken for normal, as there are too many of these events, and their timing is most often the same.
Anyhow, on with another perp infatuation and intense research topic, that of the substance in all its forms called petroleum. I note there is a Russian oil tanker that has split apart in the Black Sea and is leaking its cargo. I cannot be sure that this is a managed event, but what I will say is that the perps are on top of me with extra gangstalking whenever I am around gasoline, filling the vehicle tank, "spilling" it, etc. and this is likely related to their similar obsession with asphalt, also a petroleum product. Other strange events in the long past have been Rudolph Diesel, inventor of the diesel engine, mysteriously dying when promoting plant sources for diesel fuel. Petroleum, aka "rock oil" was not considered to be a viable fuel source at the time. The only other tie-in that I can think of with respect to the perp's obsession with petroleum products is that it may relate to their interest over provenance, where things come from and related energetics. A big topic, and I will stop there as this is about all I am permitted to recollect on this topic.
And I found out last night that the perps can now block recall of my knowledge of a singer while singing a song; the song played on YouTube unrelated slides, and it was familiar, as was the singer, but all my knowledge of any possible singer who it might of been was totally blocked. I was not allowed to even think of potential possibilities or like musicians. The thread of my entire knowlege of female vocalists (better than average) was rendered unrecallable. As soon as the song was over, the singer's name came to me, or was supplied. Another never-before recall "failure" event.
Another example of what goes on; the Save command on Bolgspot has been blocked to delay me updating the template.
Today's pictures, that being a Rememberance Day parade. Now all those red poppies will be done.
Just for me, they put on two different parked red colored vehicles and added red color to three of the seeming bystanders' clothing.
Then onto the intersection with some faux vagrants as bystanders, and two marching along in parallel on the sidewalk, one in uniform behind a pole. Funny how that worked out.
Taking up the rear of the parade is a military vehicle, replendent in the red and white medical cross, and a grey police vehicle at the tail end. One more person marching in parallel on the sidewalk. And in the foreground parking lot below my suite are three degrees of grey vehicles, simulating an applicable grey scale for the event. These parking stalls are never populated with the same vehicles, but serve as the "common area" where the vehicle colors of the day are rotated; e.g. reds, whites, greys, blacks and sometimes a green or a blue vehicle.
1500h
A forced pee, and then when I came back to the desk, the ambient lighting had being noticeably reduced, and this application greyed in at the outer vertical edges of the LCD panel. Nothing new in all that, except for both at once and so much earlier in the day.
And it will be a shorter post today as I am due to be picked up by my perp-abetting parents for "family" dinner, such as it is. Tonight, my in-town brother is putting on the dinner, and I get to do the night driving, something my mother, the only active driver, does not like to do.
1510h
Another jerkaround; the download file that disappears to unknown places, and there is no control on download, another feature that I have become familiar with. The perps like it very much when I am looking for something; a file on a PC or physical objects. I cannot count the number of times in my life when something has gone inexplicably missing. I reckon the hyper alertness state is what is preferred, and hence more brain bioenegetic signals that the could remotely detect.
1535h
Now four "inadvertebt" downloads of the same file, and I cannot stop it as the cancel button has been removed. All for showing the progressive progress bar, colored light blue I suspect.
More *.pdf file reading interference and a takedown of the web page while I was reading it. This would be an example of the above mentioned "do it twice, once for them, and once for me" fuckover stunt they continue to jerk me around with.
More plasma beams are spewing off this LCD panel so it it time to wrap this one up for the day and blog off.
The first attempt to create this posting also got clobbered; the remote controlled finger fumble "miskey" stunt, and poof, the first take was erased.
The instignating event was a download that got clobbered by a Google search that wiped it out, and thereby having the download repeat. This is such a common event, that it has likely got no mention in these pages until now. That is, an application, a phone call, a conference call, the typing of a word, or any routine activity has been, or will be, clobbered, "cancelled", interupted or otherwise interfered with to cause a restart of the activity. I cannot think of a single instance where this hasn't happened.
Even one-on-one meetings will be routinely interupted, often by a phone call, and the other person is absent for a few minutes, and then returns. Even hyphenating words in this paragraph gets screwed with, and only later am I allowed to know that it is needed. The axiom that I live by is; "do it twice, or more, once for them, and finally for me". And I am sure that is a planted phrase as well. Hence the faux brake squealing noise that erupted outside when I typed it.
I had my very own Remeberance parade outside my place today, shortly after having lunch, timed for the post-meal digestion period. Pictures to follow.
And more gratuitous and prolonged jabbing and like pains are also becoming the norm. It would seem that Thursday is the intense action day for the perps with plenty of spine stretching yoga followed by a gym workout in the afternoon. And as it happens, the planted testicle jabbing goes on while walking, though not yet at a wincing level.
A like persistent pain has started up in my right hand; a piece of seeming metal was stuck there last night after logging off for the day, and when it came time to deal with it, it was "gone". And without any provocation or touch, this needle jab like pain keeps recurring, as if something was there. Other pain jabbings "happen" in my knees when standing at the kitchen counter and handling food. This seems to be minimal for now, though it wouldn't take much for the assholes to fake an event and have it at near permanent levels. This has been done in the past; a spiral fracture in my left hand when timber cruising some 30 years ago seemed to have all the attributes of being "managed". One of the tip-offs is that it happens at the end of the day or journey, with the perps benefitting from a full day of relatively "normal". A cut eyelid a few years later had the same timing in the same line of work. Nothing can be taken for normal, as there are too many of these events, and their timing is most often the same.
Anyhow, on with another perp infatuation and intense research topic, that of the substance in all its forms called petroleum. I note there is a Russian oil tanker that has split apart in the Black Sea and is leaking its cargo. I cannot be sure that this is a managed event, but what I will say is that the perps are on top of me with extra gangstalking whenever I am around gasoline, filling the vehicle tank, "spilling" it, etc. and this is likely related to their similar obsession with asphalt, also a petroleum product. Other strange events in the long past have been Rudolph Diesel, inventor of the diesel engine, mysteriously dying when promoting plant sources for diesel fuel. Petroleum, aka "rock oil" was not considered to be a viable fuel source at the time. The only other tie-in that I can think of with respect to the perp's obsession with petroleum products is that it may relate to their interest over provenance, where things come from and related energetics. A big topic, and I will stop there as this is about all I am permitted to recollect on this topic.
And I found out last night that the perps can now block recall of my knowledge of a singer while singing a song; the song played on YouTube unrelated slides, and it was familiar, as was the singer, but all my knowledge of any possible singer who it might of been was totally blocked. I was not allowed to even think of potential possibilities or like musicians. The thread of my entire knowlege of female vocalists (better than average) was rendered unrecallable. As soon as the song was over, the singer's name came to me, or was supplied. Another never-before recall "failure" event.
Another example of what goes on; the Save command on Bolgspot has been blocked to delay me updating the template.
Today's pictures, that being a Rememberance Day parade. Now all those red poppies will be done.
Just for me, they put on two different parked red colored vehicles and added red color to three of the seeming bystanders' clothing.
Then onto the intersection with some faux vagrants as bystanders, and two marching along in parallel on the sidewalk, one in uniform behind a pole. Funny how that worked out.
Taking up the rear of the parade is a military vehicle, replendent in the red and white medical cross, and a grey police vehicle at the tail end. One more person marching in parallel on the sidewalk. And in the foreground parking lot below my suite are three degrees of grey vehicles, simulating an applicable grey scale for the event. These parking stalls are never populated with the same vehicles, but serve as the "common area" where the vehicle colors of the day are rotated; e.g. reds, whites, greys, blacks and sometimes a green or a blue vehicle.
1500h
A forced pee, and then when I came back to the desk, the ambient lighting had being noticeably reduced, and this application greyed in at the outer vertical edges of the LCD panel. Nothing new in all that, except for both at once and so much earlier in the day.
And it will be a shorter post today as I am due to be picked up by my perp-abetting parents for "family" dinner, such as it is. Tonight, my in-town brother is putting on the dinner, and I get to do the night driving, something my mother, the only active driver, does not like to do.
1510h
Another jerkaround; the download file that disappears to unknown places, and there is no control on download, another feature that I have become familiar with. The perps like it very much when I am looking for something; a file on a PC or physical objects. I cannot count the number of times in my life when something has gone inexplicably missing. I reckon the hyper alertness state is what is preferred, and hence more brain bioenegetic signals that the could remotely detect.
1535h
Now four "inadvertebt" downloads of the same file, and I cannot stop it as the cancel button has been removed. All for showing the progressive progress bar, colored light blue I suspect.
More *.pdf file reading interference and a takedown of the web page while I was reading it. This would be an example of the above mentioned "do it twice, once for them, and once for me" fuckover stunt they continue to jerk me around with.
More plasma beams are spewing off this LCD panel so it it time to wrap this one up for the day and blog off.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Visit the Doctor
1930h
I intended to get onto blogging much earlier in the day, but as always, it is another "can't happen" from the perp assholes.
I was treated to a needless 1.5 hour nap, and the perps even had me wake up after an hour, sit up in the expectation that I would get up, and then controlled me to lie down and nap for another 30 minutes. And if that wasn't enough fuckery, they kept planting the notion that I had woken up at my brother's place, as per the recent travelling. Fucking outrageous my own notions and thoughts are being fucked with in this fundamental way.
An earlier doctor visit, walking most of the same route as yesterday to my fitness, and it even seemed to be almost a pleasant visit for once. I was mind-fucked to me more chipper and energetic, and he was also in a humorous mood. All for the "medical student" perhaps, who was sitting in on the session, she being a plain blonde woman in the now vogue glasses with the large black plastic side panels and the thing black rectangular frames. One operative was even cleaning such a pair of glasses in the elevator a week or so ago.
The putative medical student had pink pants on and a whitish top, and was not involved in the discussions or banter. At the end of the session she wished me a good weekend, and I was made to be totally unaware that such a calendar event was coming up, and even her inadvertent reminder was dismissed by a perp mind-fuck, as only in the past hour or so since getting up was I allowed to know what the relevance of that statement meant. In other words, the concept and all the mental associations around what a weekend is, were totally purged from my mind. Again, fundamental neural processing thoughts are being totally fucked with, even as to the notion of where I live, per above paragraph.
The doctor then preceded me out (aka gangstalking me) with the excuse about the secretary "needing" more personal information on top of the address and phone number updates that he requested today, and lo, if that wasn't the excuse to re-visit the East Indian woman in the reception area, and then by "happenchance" meet my caseworker, who I was lead to believe, was not part of my care anymore. All very confusing with this two way meet-up, and being led to the reception booth to then engage in an unexpected conversation with the caseworker about a topic I did not know was conveyed to her.
As I explained to the doctor some months back that I was reluctant to take a job owing to some of the complications related to continuing disability payments, I needed to know of a precise dollar amount should I take on any remunerative work, so that my status would not be imperiled. Curiously, the doctor did not tell me that he conveyed this to the caseworker today, and nor did he tell me that he hoped that the caseworker would be outside in the reception area to meet me in this respect. It was all so happenchance-like arranged.
Anyhow, the caseworker took me on a conversational tangent as to referencing my "pension", which has nothing to do with anything as I don't get a pension as I am too young. Then she let me in on what she was really talking about, "disability", and then the thought association train went off, as the Canadian Pension Plan (CPP), administers the national disability program, given that it is much the same business, like Social Security in the US. Anyhow, the long mystery as to how much I can earn under this arrangement without imperilling my current "disabled" status is $4300 per annum. What it takes to get an answer these days, as I had phoned her in August over this, but she was away on holiday supposedly, and I never phoned again, per mind-fuck arrangement IMHO. And I hope that I remembered that dollar figure correctly, as the perps can plant no end of mind-fuck games with my recall, being certain about something that is totally wrong, another never-before experience state.
This was all outside the receptionist's booth, and lo, if some more operatives didn't close in to gangstalk, including an 300lb male in a cream colored sweater. Then another like sized male fucker showed up ten seconds later as I was heading out. A totally strange set up, but as always, the hospital, where the doctor's office is, is gangstalker's wet dream as the mental illness act is exploited as a cover story for unusual public perp behavior.
The route to the doctor's office is nearly the same as that of the recreation center where I work out, and I had my usual accompaniment of 500 to 800 vehicles in color coordinated arrangements all around me, and the perps even put on a two ambulance flashing light show for me when walking back. Yesterday, they put on a same colored ambulance outside the recreation center front doors when there had been no emergency, and there was at least one more ambulance sighting in the past two days that I am not allowed to recall as to the circumstances.
The big deal the doctor was on about me spending too much time on the web, as he has intimated in past consultations. And lo, if I wasn't introduced to a volunteer program by my caseworker in the above mentioned ersatz appointment. It will be something that might unfold as a new adventure, hopefully with some remuneration to dig me out of the hole again, given that the current subsidy strategy does exactly that, and no one asks any particulars.
I am getting some extreme right eye vision fucking; plasma beamings with replicated projections in the cover of some kind of vision clouding, except that the beam edges are discrete and orthogonal, unlike the mucus-on-the-eye games of the past.
2310h
Time to call this day done, even if I have been slack in not putting up more photos from my recent travels. It seems continuity of effort is another fuckable offense in perpland.
I intended to get onto blogging much earlier in the day, but as always, it is another "can't happen" from the perp assholes.
I was treated to a needless 1.5 hour nap, and the perps even had me wake up after an hour, sit up in the expectation that I would get up, and then controlled me to lie down and nap for another 30 minutes. And if that wasn't enough fuckery, they kept planting the notion that I had woken up at my brother's place, as per the recent travelling. Fucking outrageous my own notions and thoughts are being fucked with in this fundamental way.
An earlier doctor visit, walking most of the same route as yesterday to my fitness, and it even seemed to be almost a pleasant visit for once. I was mind-fucked to me more chipper and energetic, and he was also in a humorous mood. All for the "medical student" perhaps, who was sitting in on the session, she being a plain blonde woman in the now vogue glasses with the large black plastic side panels and the thing black rectangular frames. One operative was even cleaning such a pair of glasses in the elevator a week or so ago.
The putative medical student had pink pants on and a whitish top, and was not involved in the discussions or banter. At the end of the session she wished me a good weekend, and I was made to be totally unaware that such a calendar event was coming up, and even her inadvertent reminder was dismissed by a perp mind-fuck, as only in the past hour or so since getting up was I allowed to know what the relevance of that statement meant. In other words, the concept and all the mental associations around what a weekend is, were totally purged from my mind. Again, fundamental neural processing thoughts are being totally fucked with, even as to the notion of where I live, per above paragraph.
The doctor then preceded me out (aka gangstalking me) with the excuse about the secretary "needing" more personal information on top of the address and phone number updates that he requested today, and lo, if that wasn't the excuse to re-visit the East Indian woman in the reception area, and then by "happenchance" meet my caseworker, who I was lead to believe, was not part of my care anymore. All very confusing with this two way meet-up, and being led to the reception booth to then engage in an unexpected conversation with the caseworker about a topic I did not know was conveyed to her.
As I explained to the doctor some months back that I was reluctant to take a job owing to some of the complications related to continuing disability payments, I needed to know of a precise dollar amount should I take on any remunerative work, so that my status would not be imperiled. Curiously, the doctor did not tell me that he conveyed this to the caseworker today, and nor did he tell me that he hoped that the caseworker would be outside in the reception area to meet me in this respect. It was all so happenchance-like arranged.
Anyhow, the caseworker took me on a conversational tangent as to referencing my "pension", which has nothing to do with anything as I don't get a pension as I am too young. Then she let me in on what she was really talking about, "disability", and then the thought association train went off, as the Canadian Pension Plan (CPP), administers the national disability program, given that it is much the same business, like Social Security in the US. Anyhow, the long mystery as to how much I can earn under this arrangement without imperilling my current "disabled" status is $4300 per annum. What it takes to get an answer these days, as I had phoned her in August over this, but she was away on holiday supposedly, and I never phoned again, per mind-fuck arrangement IMHO. And I hope that I remembered that dollar figure correctly, as the perps can plant no end of mind-fuck games with my recall, being certain about something that is totally wrong, another never-before experience state.
This was all outside the receptionist's booth, and lo, if some more operatives didn't close in to gangstalk, including an 300lb male in a cream colored sweater. Then another like sized male fucker showed up ten seconds later as I was heading out. A totally strange set up, but as always, the hospital, where the doctor's office is, is gangstalker's wet dream as the mental illness act is exploited as a cover story for unusual public perp behavior.
The route to the doctor's office is nearly the same as that of the recreation center where I work out, and I had my usual accompaniment of 500 to 800 vehicles in color coordinated arrangements all around me, and the perps even put on a two ambulance flashing light show for me when walking back. Yesterday, they put on a same colored ambulance outside the recreation center front doors when there had been no emergency, and there was at least one more ambulance sighting in the past two days that I am not allowed to recall as to the circumstances.
The big deal the doctor was on about me spending too much time on the web, as he has intimated in past consultations. And lo, if I wasn't introduced to a volunteer program by my caseworker in the above mentioned ersatz appointment. It will be something that might unfold as a new adventure, hopefully with some remuneration to dig me out of the hole again, given that the current subsidy strategy does exactly that, and no one asks any particulars.
I am getting some extreme right eye vision fucking; plasma beamings with replicated projections in the cover of some kind of vision clouding, except that the beam edges are discrete and orthogonal, unlike the mucus-on-the-eye games of the past.
2310h
Time to call this day done, even if I have been slack in not putting up more photos from my recent travels. It seems continuity of effort is another fuckable offense in perpland.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Head Pressurization
1200h
I am getting an internal pressure on my forehead, just over my brow, which is adding to the dissonance that is being imposed. It is immediately alleviated by rubbing my head, but only for some 20 seconds at most. I am also getting the "stoned: sensation, the denergized temporal lobe "floaties", which tells me that the perps are hard at work, attempting to leverage my overhight stay at my parent's place, aka the First Feral Family. Mondays are also the days when I get messed with and not allowed to go to sleep for hours. That remains to be seen, but the stoned sensation started this morning, and continued while I was driving my parent's vehicle into downtown. Only in perpland is it encouraged, if not mandatory, to drive while in an altered state while a host of vehicles cluster around me; six red vehicles, then later, three abreast at the stop line at an controlled intersection. Then a collection of at least 8 male riff-raff when I got out of the vehicle and went to the entrance of my apartment building. One as a postman "waiting" at the box, something I have never seen before, a postman as a sentry.
1405h
Th overhead pounding has started up, and was very active while reading the email of the current dustups on MCActivism, a Yahoo group I regularly visit. Then a siren cascade with a coincident brake squealing, and now just the latter with the overhead pounding. Getting back to normal.
And more brown cardboad box packing gangstalkers, and it is getting silly with one woman packing a 6" flattened stack of them while walking through a residential area. And the moving and delivery services are also increasing their "appearances", as are the ambulatory nutters packing empty boxes and manipulating them (e.g. flipping them upside down) for no apparent reason.
And here is a strange van; white on the outside, orange on the inside, and "shows up" in different places when transiting on my two workout days, Tuesday and Thursday, 08-21, and 08-23-2007. And in keeping with a now common event, the doors are kept open for me to see, or otherwise interact with. First on brown cardboard box duty, and then the second appearance, just parked and further away.
So far, the weirdest brown colored object to be "featured" on the streets is a couch that was being packed as if a street move were taking place, though the lack of a plausible cover story didn't get in the way of the stunt.
Call it visual relief, adding these photos; in Picasa the album software, it adds up all the pictures, even the originals where so many of them "turned out" to be overly dark and were recoverable with the lighting feature. I have many hundreds of photos which display anomalous configurations of vehicles parked or in motion, sometimes alternating white and red, then a later date, alternating silver grey and red. Unless I hear otherwise, I will refrain from adding this subject matter into the blog, as it is a continous event, and it will be tiresome if I documented it every posting.
2015h
The notion of putting my photos on Flicker.com was planted, and I duly checked it out as something helpful to spread the reality of being harassed 24x7. I got an id set up, jhughes164, and started to upload the photos. Bang, only two of twelve were uploaded, the rest just "didn't happen". I do the tagging and collection naming for those two, and then upload another two. Emboldened with "my" newfound abilities to use this software I then tried to upload larger block of ten photos. The session ran for over 30 minutes and stayed stuck at 41% loaded. Back to software and computer obstruction and sabotage, as obviously, I am now being gamed to play the oldest perp invoked stunt going; do it twice (or more), once for yourself, and the rest of the attempts for us as we fuck you around and have you go through the same hoops again and again. Needless to say, the Flicker account is going to be one of those slow projects, where it takes forever, and I work on it every few days. And I did discover a person on Flicker getting harassed by the same color vehicle colors as I am.
The perps are constantly obsessed with me seeing the scale of everything; pictures reduced to thumbnail size, zooming in to crop my digital pictures, and of course the entire panoply of vehicle sizes that they present as part of the vehicular gangstalking that goes on. I even get golf carts being driven on city streets to "fill in" the size between a economy car and a motorcycle. The Smart cars are the biggest thing going in this city, and probably for this very reason of being a scaled down vehicle, seating only two. Every day that I go out I see at least a half dozen, and some of them are parked at the same street location each time.
2320h
A late evening, getting carried away with Puremusic again; this time the perps put a fruit fly on to buzz me, and when I attempted to grab it, it became a maser. At other moments the perps mixed the two, both being small and black, having me grab at the maser instead. Fascinating juvenility for the assholes at the other end.
A big evening; two phone calls, tonight. One from an associate of the working days, and another from my in-town brother over some orchestrated vagueness. "Moving a couch" he says, but of course I wasn't allowed to suggest that it might be brown colored. Nor was I allowed to exclaim that someone is shunting my shit around in my colon as I was on the phone.
And I also learned first hand that the perps can now fuck with my sense of continuity as to what web page I was on, what location on the page, and what was my last link (most recent web page navigation recall). Just what the sickos ordered; more ways to fuck with my mind as if they hadn't done this enough.
Its late, and time to catch some sleep, or whatever the perps have lined up for me, as Mondays are usually the day they keep me thrashing around for an hour or longer.
I am getting an internal pressure on my forehead, just over my brow, which is adding to the dissonance that is being imposed. It is immediately alleviated by rubbing my head, but only for some 20 seconds at most. I am also getting the "stoned: sensation, the denergized temporal lobe "floaties", which tells me that the perps are hard at work, attempting to leverage my overhight stay at my parent's place, aka the First Feral Family. Mondays are also the days when I get messed with and not allowed to go to sleep for hours. That remains to be seen, but the stoned sensation started this morning, and continued while I was driving my parent's vehicle into downtown. Only in perpland is it encouraged, if not mandatory, to drive while in an altered state while a host of vehicles cluster around me; six red vehicles, then later, three abreast at the stop line at an controlled intersection. Then a collection of at least 8 male riff-raff when I got out of the vehicle and went to the entrance of my apartment building. One as a postman "waiting" at the box, something I have never seen before, a postman as a sentry.
1405h
Th overhead pounding has started up, and was very active while reading the email of the current dustups on MCActivism, a Yahoo group I regularly visit. Then a siren cascade with a coincident brake squealing, and now just the latter with the overhead pounding. Getting back to normal.
And more brown cardboad box packing gangstalkers, and it is getting silly with one woman packing a 6" flattened stack of them while walking through a residential area. And the moving and delivery services are also increasing their "appearances", as are the ambulatory nutters packing empty boxes and manipulating them (e.g. flipping them upside down) for no apparent reason.
And here is a strange van; white on the outside, orange on the inside, and "shows up" in different places when transiting on my two workout days, Tuesday and Thursday, 08-21, and 08-23-2007. And in keeping with a now common event, the doors are kept open for me to see, or otherwise interact with. First on brown cardboard box duty, and then the second appearance, just parked and further away.
So far, the weirdest brown colored object to be "featured" on the streets is a couch that was being packed as if a street move were taking place, though the lack of a plausible cover story didn't get in the way of the stunt.
Call it visual relief, adding these photos; in Picasa the album software, it adds up all the pictures, even the originals where so many of them "turned out" to be overly dark and were recoverable with the lighting feature. I have many hundreds of photos which display anomalous configurations of vehicles parked or in motion, sometimes alternating white and red, then a later date, alternating silver grey and red. Unless I hear otherwise, I will refrain from adding this subject matter into the blog, as it is a continous event, and it will be tiresome if I documented it every posting.
2015h
The notion of putting my photos on Flicker.com was planted, and I duly checked it out as something helpful to spread the reality of being harassed 24x7. I got an id set up, jhughes164, and started to upload the photos. Bang, only two of twelve were uploaded, the rest just "didn't happen". I do the tagging and collection naming for those two, and then upload another two. Emboldened with "my" newfound abilities to use this software I then tried to upload larger block of ten photos. The session ran for over 30 minutes and stayed stuck at 41% loaded. Back to software and computer obstruction and sabotage, as obviously, I am now being gamed to play the oldest perp invoked stunt going; do it twice (or more), once for yourself, and the rest of the attempts for us as we fuck you around and have you go through the same hoops again and again. Needless to say, the Flicker account is going to be one of those slow projects, where it takes forever, and I work on it every few days. And I did discover a person on Flicker getting harassed by the same color vehicle colors as I am.
The perps are constantly obsessed with me seeing the scale of everything; pictures reduced to thumbnail size, zooming in to crop my digital pictures, and of course the entire panoply of vehicle sizes that they present as part of the vehicular gangstalking that goes on. I even get golf carts being driven on city streets to "fill in" the size between a economy car and a motorcycle. The Smart cars are the biggest thing going in this city, and probably for this very reason of being a scaled down vehicle, seating only two. Every day that I go out I see at least a half dozen, and some of them are parked at the same street location each time.
2320h
A late evening, getting carried away with Puremusic again; this time the perps put a fruit fly on to buzz me, and when I attempted to grab it, it became a maser. At other moments the perps mixed the two, both being small and black, having me grab at the maser instead. Fascinating juvenility for the assholes at the other end.
A big evening; two phone calls, tonight. One from an associate of the working days, and another from my in-town brother over some orchestrated vagueness. "Moving a couch" he says, but of course I wasn't allowed to suggest that it might be brown colored. Nor was I allowed to exclaim that someone is shunting my shit around in my colon as I was on the phone.
And I also learned first hand that the perps can now fuck with my sense of continuity as to what web page I was on, what location on the page, and what was my last link (most recent web page navigation recall). Just what the sickos ordered; more ways to fuck with my mind as if they hadn't done this enough.
Its late, and time to catch some sleep, or whatever the perps have lined up for me, as Mondays are usually the day they keep me thrashing around for an hour or longer.
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