1120h
A "perfect confluence" of noise is erupting, just before I set off to do some digging at my ex's place. It is for a walkway ostensibly, and in keeping with me digging holes at my parents' place, my in-brother's place, my out-of-town brother's place in 2002, and of course, two summer months of scrabbling daffodil bulbs on the farm lands north of downtown. It is the year of digging dirt for the SS, (Sureptiticious Sickos) and who knows what is the next bizarre offshoot they have lined up for me. Even shifting online tasks from reading websites to begining today's blog posting is an exciting event for the SS, let alone walking around in my apartment. They cannot get enough of the pedantic action, never mind the rest of the plasma and maser games that pass for the imposed normal.
2125h
Back to blogging after being out for the afternoon. It was another "victim tour", where I am taken to a certain location for rather nebulous reasons. It was the ex's turn to invite me over to her place to advise on the concrete pathways she wants poured around the property. Where to place them, addition of drainage, project logistics, who does what, etc. (No digging as it "happened"; it was all to have me take my day pack with me). Then I was to write down all the items while she was in the phone in the other room, and then take the same list and go over them at lunch out at a large realestate development called Bear Mountain. A tour in effect, and the lunch was overlooking a traffic roundabout with golf carts and vehicles alike going in looping turns, and the odd one even going against the mandated direction. All these vehicular antics are long familiar to TI's. The golf cart exposure was interesting as they have a certain size/scale in the vehicular array, and the perps have long ensured that I get exposure to certain vehicle sizes, usually in a flush or formation of them. I don't know what the gangstalk vehicle size nonsense is about, but suffice to say, the ridiculous (IMHO) Smart Cars are prevalent in this town.
And while pondering, the overhead pounding erupted with a simultaneous body zapping, all to get me riled up, given that I fucking hate this, and I will club any known Fuckwits who do this to me into a pancake.
I did an eveningtime shopping visitation to the local supermarket with the usual posse of Fuckwits and other gangstalkers of the Unfavored. The most hurl-worthy was the woman ahead of me at the checkout in a hippie outfit which included a way fugly touque in red and orange and a burgundy patch quilt long skirt. The red and orange clashing color combination is especially vile to my visual aesthetics, and the perps will do all they can to get this inserted into the freakshow in any public venue. The hippie woman ahead of me was joined by a equally odious loitering touque wearing dude who managed to arrive just as she was picking up her shopping bags after delaying her departure for more in-close time I assume. The hippie woman had another woman in black beside her when I first got to the checkout, one dressed normally, and it always seems that the perps need to have a Favored demographic group member with an Unfavored one, or at least at the outset of any close-in gangstalking, or moreso, for a new venue. It is a common etheric (aura) penumbra arrangement the ambulatory gangstalkers like to arrange, where the Favored demographic group member is immediately in front or behind the Unfavored group member. In more familiar circumstances they don't seem to need blondes as much as they once used to. Blondes are one of the most Favored demographic groups, and their deployment as gangstalkers in new venues is often very consistent (e.g. first week of the summer time daffodil bulb picking crew).
I notice the nightime street lighting is being modified for some kind of extra-conventional visual effect. The traffic, head, and street lights are all flaring with extra glow that has an ordered crackled radiating look to it. Hard to describe, but disconcerting to some extent, and I don't where the Fuckwits are going with this one. Other day and nightime lighting games are to put on extra red reflections, as if tail and brakelights were casting strong reflections, even on whole panels of vehicles, making their real color indeterminant until I get closer to them. Very often, these setups include red vehicles, and there was one outside the supermarket when at the checkout tonight. And lo, if a red and white tow truck didn't stop beside it with yellow light flashing as service vehicles often do. It would seem that this was an outside to inside red color comparison exercise, the above hippie woman providing plenty of close-in red clothing colors under different light conditions inside the store. There were at least three other dudes on gangstalking duty wearing red clothing and having it appear from varying shadows to brighter lit locations. Also, when walking toward me, they create distance dependent characteristics that they seem to be looking for.
I was also scripted for a nap earlier, for an hour before dinner, and not so long that I felt totally trashed by the experience. The perps have long had the ability to make me feel wasted after long daytime naps. I don't ordinarily need daytime naps, but when they come on, there is no resisting. In the long past of 2003, they would sometimes script a nap when I came back from the PC repair shop, presumably to access the internals to plant their partitions on and all the spyware. I have not been able to remove these partitions even with specialized software.
2300h
More online reading with the earmuffs on owing to annoying sustained noises. Every so often the perps put noise through the ear muffs and I suppose there is some advantage they are plumbing for. Time to call this one done for the day.
Showing posts with label vehicle scale. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vehicle scale. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
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.
Monday, March 26, 2007
House Whacking in the Night
1235h
I stayed at my parent's place last night and watch the usual two programs with lots of British accents, a planted theme of the perps. Nothing grating at least.
I was allowed to get to sleep in short order, but was awakened in the night to hear something whacking the house in rythmic fashion. Later I was awakened again to hear my parents talking and for thoughstalking reasons. That is, while thinking about something, one of them would cough or say something, whichever was appropriate at the moment.
1545h
My afternoon tea and chocolate has been cancelled; that is, I have no interest in having the tea even if no chocolate is on hand. The latter is a highly managed food item, and is integral to the perp's brown color problem they inflict on me, and both my usual sources were "out of stock" last week. That includes straight milk chocolate and the variety with added hazelnuts, the permitted alternative. And since I have gone through spells of not even liking the smell of chocolate, I can be sure that the assholes are governing this trait as it fits in with their color planting plans.
And on that note, the usual Monday morning light gold-brown metallic colored sedan that arrives on Mondays was duly parked under my window, per usual. It must be at leas six Mondays in succession, with perhaps one other non-Monday visitation. I even was allowed to convey to the doctor last week about the scheduled Monday-only getting to sleep problems, and he asked why I thought it was happening. I gave him my best answer that Mondays are the day following a stay at my parents' place and that whatever benefits accrue from being harassed and surveilled there are likely being attempted here on the following day, right to the end of it by protraction of my awake time. Anyhow, it was interesting that the perps allowed this nonclinical gem to be supplied to the doctor as usually they have me "forget" anything of this nature in a clinical environment. That is, they don't (usually) want to hear about it, and therefore dither my situational capability in recalling unwanted information.
I read an interesting article in Nexus about transplant patients undergoing personality changes akin to that of the donor. This isn't anything too new as transplants have been going on for over 30 years (heart, lungs, kidneys etc.), except the author makes a statistical inference is that it is not a coincidence. Which is interesting, as somehow the perps might be reading these energies off of organs as well as my brain. That they put at least eight deep burgundy colored vehicles around me in one block of a two lane residental artery suggests that perhaps my heart is their current quest as it is the same color. Then another four of them clustered around me outside this place when I pulled in with my mother's Ford Escape. Then the brother comportment-like gangstalker/"resident" "happened" to walk in front of the vehicle while she was spinning a story about a possible outing next week, before I got out.
It was interesting earlier that my mother was talking about kidneys this morning, as a news story had launched this conversational item. Not that I am any expert, but it did cause me to wonder what the need was.
And it was also interesting that the perps hammered me with vision impairments when I first sat down at the table, whenever I looked across the table at no particular feature. And lo, if my mother didn't sit there, in the center of the location for which I earlier recieved vision impairments. It was the particular view that was impaired, as they backed off if I looked somewhere else.
And it seems that there is a magical scourge that is attacking toilet plungers in my proximity; over the past month the one here, and the one at my parent's place, have taken on a list, and the handles can no longer be kept vertical. Even inanimate objects are taking on a generalized "behavior" in my proximity. No doubt mine will have taken this on when I am allowed to spring it out of storage next month as part of the upcoming move. I am to give my notice this week, and take the plunge that desirable place will come up for rent in the next week. Nothing in the newspaper this past weekend.
And the housing coordinator phoned and asked about my house looking, and I told her nothing yet, and then she goes into raptures about how this was the best time to look as the student's are vacating apartments at term end. Well it so "happened" that is what I told her two weeks ago, when she suggested an April 15 end of tenancy which I was not too keen about. I then proposed the April 30 date, citing the aforementioned student turnover, and I asked for her validation, and she said she didn't know. Now she is singing the praises of an upcoming bountiful choice of availible apartments next weekend, the month-end, owing to the timing of student turnover. It is simply amazing how "my idea" (likely a planted thought) gets replayed back to me in glowing terms from someone who couldn't, or more likely wouldn't, validate it in the first place.
Regular readers will know that there is a component of this harassment called "generated coincidences", aka scenario or dialog setups. That is, a theme will come to mind, and often the words to use, in anticipation of an upcoming event. And when the event arrives, I typically find myself in a conversation where the (planted) thoughts and words are supplied as "my" contribution to the converstation. And other times, the theme is ignored entirely.
An example is the doctor's appointment past week which turned out to be relatively benign and no insulting games and other ruses to get me riled up. But, the week before that, they had me "discover" that the diagnosis of delusions requires some work on the doctor's behalf to ensure these events are not occuring. Well of course no doctor has done any spade work, even if I tell them there are books on gangstalking, and 18k Google hits on the topic, never mind the many web sites. So, the notion was that I would come out swinging in metaphoric terms in the doctor's appointment was planted; I would put the shoe on the other foot, and ask him for his research efforts as to what he had done to be sure that these events were not happening. As it so "happened", the doctor's visit was totally nonconfrontational, and was a cakewalk in that he ducked the issue of provability in advance by saying that he was prescribing medications that help me deal with the experiences I describe. Anyway, life is a constant mind game, some notions are planted to be disregarded, and some are planted to be discussed at length.
And sometimes this presaging of verbal content is managed to the very word, where I use a more obscure word which gets "jumped on" by the designated party, and I have no idea as to why they didn't understand its usage. I explain it, or define the word, and then they are OK with it. As the mind control extends to my vocabulary as of sometime in 2006, I don't worry about it now as it is all programmed exactly to what the script is.
1910h
I just finished commenting to another TI and that started the herd of operatives moving in the adjacent hallway, next door bathroom, loud muffered vehicles outside, the daily fan belt squeaking, again from outside, and the rest of the noisescape. And too, the select, cut and paste actions in Windows makes for a noise flurry as well.
And I read that Anna Nicole Smith died of an accidental overdose of a prescribed substance that conflicted with other medications. I haven't done the homework to know what all of the medications are, but I surely there must of been a contraindication warning from her doctor. And, no less, she travelled with a nurse, and in addition, still somehow ended up with an infection from the hypodermic jab. As always, I am suspicious of all premature celebrity deaths, but as I am not there, I cannot make a call as to what exactly went on. She was an iconic blonde, if over the top, but she had a certain appeal in that she made her own success, even if brazen at times. But I do wonder, is there a certain attrition rate for iconic blonde women? Princess Diana in 1996, Marilyn Munroe in 1962, and none come to mind for the 1970's and 1980's. As I said before, if I were Paris Hilton, I would start to lie low and stay out of the limelight.
2100h
I got up for a drink of water from the gallon jug, which is located near the window. True to form, meaning 95% of the time when at the counter, there was a vehicle slowly cruising by outside, red and white lights glowing, and then it reversed as they often do. Once I got back to my chair, the assholes jabbed me with some kind of internal pain, large intestine area. I assume it all relates to their ass-jabbing activities, and the sensation of shitting undigested straw whenever I get to take a crap. They have no end of interest in all matters related to shit, and have gone to great lengths to make taking a crap an abhorent experience.
2145h
More motorcycle noise from outside; the perps like that long trail-off of sound (or decay) and use both the loud throbbing two cycle motorbikes (Harley Davidsons usually) and the higher revving four stroke typical Japanese motorcycle noise.
I am doing some reading on Alien Jigsaw by Kathrina Wilson which has some articles on mind control as well, and it seems the central question is one of nonconsensual experimentation; by aliens, or by ones own species. In each case, it is a life under duress as the author points out, though she didn't imagine the nature of been totally controlled with the entire city taking part in an ongoing charade, with the central character being kept in the dark as to what is going on, and all support being pulled, or else highly compromised.
Then to top it off, the perps launch into vision impairment activity, designed to stop me reading. But at the same time, they want me online and to flick through web pages for noisestalking coordination and whatever else they do.
For a Monday, this has been a fairly calm evening; I am getting plenty of furnace oil smell jammed up my nose, but not the usual 3 per 5 minutes of room shaking and the hallway jocularity or cell phone activity.
In the ongoing vehicular gangstalking that went on this morning when I drove my mother's Ford Escape to my place, there were the burgundy red vehicles I mentioned, and later in the journey they added a burgundy and sliver-grey combination Smart Car which are all the rage here. It seems that the perps were building a scale of small (Smart Car) to large (vans) of the burgundy color. I have never seen them do this in one journey so obviously, but it goes without saying almost, that I have also been "shown" plenty of motorcycles, sports cars, sedans, dump trucks and others in the range of scale they seem to be attempting for each color of interest.
And in the stupid driving realm, another first today; someone stopped in mid-street, oncoming with the passenger door open, just sitting there and not attempting to pull over to the curb where there was plenty of room. This was facing my parents' place 300m away, and if any traffic had turned from the nearby thoroughfare, they would of slammed into this absurdity. So it seems, that this stunt, looking like bozos gone wild, was carefully arranged for the idiots to pretend to be putzing in mid-road for the few minutes or so that they were in view. It did not surprise me that the vehicle was silver-grey, the most often used reference color, and that of my former Volvo, now driven by my sixteen y.o. daughter who can afford it. How's that for penury?
Time to call this one a wrap, and take on the consideration of tomorrow's events; it is an "outing day", Tuesdays as I go to the so-called "drop-in" center, which for all purposes is a gangstalk center. Last week, morph-overs of my father and brother were the first two fuckers to "greet me", even before I got into the house to sign in. Both these assholes had the same comportment as the respective individuals, hence my interpretation as being morphed-over family members. That they were there first, and before I got in the house suggests that these were the most important gangstalkers of the lot. In my view, both are fucking sick to be taking part in this protracted and vile depravity. I just hope I don't see them in any like form tommorow.
I stayed at my parent's place last night and watch the usual two programs with lots of British accents, a planted theme of the perps. Nothing grating at least.
I was allowed to get to sleep in short order, but was awakened in the night to hear something whacking the house in rythmic fashion. Later I was awakened again to hear my parents talking and for thoughstalking reasons. That is, while thinking about something, one of them would cough or say something, whichever was appropriate at the moment.
1545h
My afternoon tea and chocolate has been cancelled; that is, I have no interest in having the tea even if no chocolate is on hand. The latter is a highly managed food item, and is integral to the perp's brown color problem they inflict on me, and both my usual sources were "out of stock" last week. That includes straight milk chocolate and the variety with added hazelnuts, the permitted alternative. And since I have gone through spells of not even liking the smell of chocolate, I can be sure that the assholes are governing this trait as it fits in with their color planting plans.
And on that note, the usual Monday morning light gold-brown metallic colored sedan that arrives on Mondays was duly parked under my window, per usual. It must be at leas six Mondays in succession, with perhaps one other non-Monday visitation. I even was allowed to convey to the doctor last week about the scheduled Monday-only getting to sleep problems, and he asked why I thought it was happening. I gave him my best answer that Mondays are the day following a stay at my parents' place and that whatever benefits accrue from being harassed and surveilled there are likely being attempted here on the following day, right to the end of it by protraction of my awake time. Anyhow, it was interesting that the perps allowed this nonclinical gem to be supplied to the doctor as usually they have me "forget" anything of this nature in a clinical environment. That is, they don't (usually) want to hear about it, and therefore dither my situational capability in recalling unwanted information.
I read an interesting article in Nexus about transplant patients undergoing personality changes akin to that of the donor. This isn't anything too new as transplants have been going on for over 30 years (heart, lungs, kidneys etc.), except the author makes a statistical inference is that it is not a coincidence. Which is interesting, as somehow the perps might be reading these energies off of organs as well as my brain. That they put at least eight deep burgundy colored vehicles around me in one block of a two lane residental artery suggests that perhaps my heart is their current quest as it is the same color. Then another four of them clustered around me outside this place when I pulled in with my mother's Ford Escape. Then the brother comportment-like gangstalker/"resident" "happened" to walk in front of the vehicle while she was spinning a story about a possible outing next week, before I got out.
It was interesting earlier that my mother was talking about kidneys this morning, as a news story had launched this conversational item. Not that I am any expert, but it did cause me to wonder what the need was.
And it was also interesting that the perps hammered me with vision impairments when I first sat down at the table, whenever I looked across the table at no particular feature. And lo, if my mother didn't sit there, in the center of the location for which I earlier recieved vision impairments. It was the particular view that was impaired, as they backed off if I looked somewhere else.
And it seems that there is a magical scourge that is attacking toilet plungers in my proximity; over the past month the one here, and the one at my parent's place, have taken on a list, and the handles can no longer be kept vertical. Even inanimate objects are taking on a generalized "behavior" in my proximity. No doubt mine will have taken this on when I am allowed to spring it out of storage next month as part of the upcoming move. I am to give my notice this week, and take the plunge that desirable place will come up for rent in the next week. Nothing in the newspaper this past weekend.
And the housing coordinator phoned and asked about my house looking, and I told her nothing yet, and then she goes into raptures about how this was the best time to look as the student's are vacating apartments at term end. Well it so "happened" that is what I told her two weeks ago, when she suggested an April 15 end of tenancy which I was not too keen about. I then proposed the April 30 date, citing the aforementioned student turnover, and I asked for her validation, and she said she didn't know. Now she is singing the praises of an upcoming bountiful choice of availible apartments next weekend, the month-end, owing to the timing of student turnover. It is simply amazing how "my idea" (likely a planted thought) gets replayed back to me in glowing terms from someone who couldn't, or more likely wouldn't, validate it in the first place.
Regular readers will know that there is a component of this harassment called "generated coincidences", aka scenario or dialog setups. That is, a theme will come to mind, and often the words to use, in anticipation of an upcoming event. And when the event arrives, I typically find myself in a conversation where the (planted) thoughts and words are supplied as "my" contribution to the converstation. And other times, the theme is ignored entirely.
An example is the doctor's appointment past week which turned out to be relatively benign and no insulting games and other ruses to get me riled up. But, the week before that, they had me "discover" that the diagnosis of delusions requires some work on the doctor's behalf to ensure these events are not occuring. Well of course no doctor has done any spade work, even if I tell them there are books on gangstalking, and 18k Google hits on the topic, never mind the many web sites. So, the notion was that I would come out swinging in metaphoric terms in the doctor's appointment was planted; I would put the shoe on the other foot, and ask him for his research efforts as to what he had done to be sure that these events were not happening. As it so "happened", the doctor's visit was totally nonconfrontational, and was a cakewalk in that he ducked the issue of provability in advance by saying that he was prescribing medications that help me deal with the experiences I describe. Anyway, life is a constant mind game, some notions are planted to be disregarded, and some are planted to be discussed at length.
And sometimes this presaging of verbal content is managed to the very word, where I use a more obscure word which gets "jumped on" by the designated party, and I have no idea as to why they didn't understand its usage. I explain it, or define the word, and then they are OK with it. As the mind control extends to my vocabulary as of sometime in 2006, I don't worry about it now as it is all programmed exactly to what the script is.
1910h
I just finished commenting to another TI and that started the herd of operatives moving in the adjacent hallway, next door bathroom, loud muffered vehicles outside, the daily fan belt squeaking, again from outside, and the rest of the noisescape. And too, the select, cut and paste actions in Windows makes for a noise flurry as well.
And I read that Anna Nicole Smith died of an accidental overdose of a prescribed substance that conflicted with other medications. I haven't done the homework to know what all of the medications are, but I surely there must of been a contraindication warning from her doctor. And, no less, she travelled with a nurse, and in addition, still somehow ended up with an infection from the hypodermic jab. As always, I am suspicious of all premature celebrity deaths, but as I am not there, I cannot make a call as to what exactly went on. She was an iconic blonde, if over the top, but she had a certain appeal in that she made her own success, even if brazen at times. But I do wonder, is there a certain attrition rate for iconic blonde women? Princess Diana in 1996, Marilyn Munroe in 1962, and none come to mind for the 1970's and 1980's. As I said before, if I were Paris Hilton, I would start to lie low and stay out of the limelight.
2100h
I got up for a drink of water from the gallon jug, which is located near the window. True to form, meaning 95% of the time when at the counter, there was a vehicle slowly cruising by outside, red and white lights glowing, and then it reversed as they often do. Once I got back to my chair, the assholes jabbed me with some kind of internal pain, large intestine area. I assume it all relates to their ass-jabbing activities, and the sensation of shitting undigested straw whenever I get to take a crap. They have no end of interest in all matters related to shit, and have gone to great lengths to make taking a crap an abhorent experience.
2145h
More motorcycle noise from outside; the perps like that long trail-off of sound (or decay) and use both the loud throbbing two cycle motorbikes (Harley Davidsons usually) and the higher revving four stroke typical Japanese motorcycle noise.
I am doing some reading on Alien Jigsaw by Kathrina Wilson which has some articles on mind control as well, and it seems the central question is one of nonconsensual experimentation; by aliens, or by ones own species. In each case, it is a life under duress as the author points out, though she didn't imagine the nature of been totally controlled with the entire city taking part in an ongoing charade, with the central character being kept in the dark as to what is going on, and all support being pulled, or else highly compromised.
Then to top it off, the perps launch into vision impairment activity, designed to stop me reading. But at the same time, they want me online and to flick through web pages for noisestalking coordination and whatever else they do.
For a Monday, this has been a fairly calm evening; I am getting plenty of furnace oil smell jammed up my nose, but not the usual 3 per 5 minutes of room shaking and the hallway jocularity or cell phone activity.
In the ongoing vehicular gangstalking that went on this morning when I drove my mother's Ford Escape to my place, there were the burgundy red vehicles I mentioned, and later in the journey they added a burgundy and sliver-grey combination Smart Car which are all the rage here. It seems that the perps were building a scale of small (Smart Car) to large (vans) of the burgundy color. I have never seen them do this in one journey so obviously, but it goes without saying almost, that I have also been "shown" plenty of motorcycles, sports cars, sedans, dump trucks and others in the range of scale they seem to be attempting for each color of interest.
And in the stupid driving realm, another first today; someone stopped in mid-street, oncoming with the passenger door open, just sitting there and not attempting to pull over to the curb where there was plenty of room. This was facing my parents' place 300m away, and if any traffic had turned from the nearby thoroughfare, they would of slammed into this absurdity. So it seems, that this stunt, looking like bozos gone wild, was carefully arranged for the idiots to pretend to be putzing in mid-road for the few minutes or so that they were in view. It did not surprise me that the vehicle was silver-grey, the most often used reference color, and that of my former Volvo, now driven by my sixteen y.o. daughter who can afford it. How's that for penury?
Time to call this one a wrap, and take on the consideration of tomorrow's events; it is an "outing day", Tuesdays as I go to the so-called "drop-in" center, which for all purposes is a gangstalk center. Last week, morph-overs of my father and brother were the first two fuckers to "greet me", even before I got into the house to sign in. Both these assholes had the same comportment as the respective individuals, hence my interpretation as being morphed-over family members. That they were there first, and before I got in the house suggests that these were the most important gangstalkers of the lot. In my view, both are fucking sick to be taking part in this protracted and vile depravity. I just hope I don't see them in any like form tommorow.
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