09-19-2011
2100h
An unplanned day off, this Monday, as I have acquired a doozer of a cold yesterday, and they wouldn't let me sleep much last night at the First Feral Family house. A double whammy. All to seemingly repeat the experiences/timing of the summer, where I take Mondays off at the FFF house. Since the job restart, it has been Sundays off.
I got plenty of errands done, and picking up my UPS package in person and paying at $85 duty hit for China made sheets and ski pants. I got slotted into this notion of having a pair of softshell pants that were both waterproof and windproof, and an somehow this morphed into ski pants. Like WTF; I already have a blue pair of Patagonias that I have rarely worn, and somehow "forgot" in this headlong planted notion of getting softshell pants. A $150 down the drain, just to piss me off.
And of course, the perps plant notions of future portent that I am going to a cold weather location, but that cannot be relied upon as I have safety toe boots that I "needed" and haven't worn for three years. (All the construction jobs just didn't materialize). And on it goes; kitchen utensils that I "had to have", and they sit unused for over two years. As part of this campaign of perp touted job/training change they are promoting as upcoming this winter, they have me searching for cots and collapsible furniture. A fold-up table has already been secured, a cot is next they say, and then a few chairs. All to move in one pass in my mother's Ford Escape which she has put on offer at least 5x in the past two months.
The city bus freakshow was another swamping this afternoon. The usual story; reverse commute from suburbia to downtown, often only 10 to 15 passengers, but over 40 today. Even the commuting buses in the opposite direction weren't as full. The final coup was to have a fugly negro woman board the bus at my penultimate stop. Quite the scene she was, and my collective reaction was no doubt of considerable interest to the myriad of Fuckwits around me (as human biosensors). Though, I have to admit, they cut down on the freaks (read, Unfavored- e.g. tattoos, turbans, strange headwear, red or other unnatural hair, vagrants, shiftless dudes, skinheads, large gutted persons, ponytail males, loudmouths and geriatrics). Why so many "people" (read Fuckwits) were on that bus defies logic. Though, they did put on one curly haired Fat Girl (two Unfavoreds in one person), one who works at a kitchen shop I frequented and screwed me around last year as to where to get a particular kind of teapot- totally wrong direction. Not to mention that she was putting on the gangstalk in various front, back, L. side and R. side poses, standing there dumbstruck.
Other excitement for the perps today seems to be incrementing the "red count"; surrounding me with slightly more red vehicles, red shirted males, and ensuring there are plenty of extraneous red reflections in my vision. Often they would put five to eight white vehicles in a cluster and then insert a red one in the centre or at the end. This morphed into later larger clusters of red vehicles, some side by side and running a red light together.
And big noise eruptions when I was sowing grass seed at the FFF house, as part of the re-leveling of the NW corner ankle breaking humps the FF Father left as unfinished landscaping for over 40 years. The perps cannot get enough noise and disruption when they have me sowing grass seed for whatever reason. When I got back from my errands my mother wanted to get grass seed from Home Depot which is a 3 minute drive away. But first we have coffe together, as in getting "brown calibrated". And lo, if she wasn't wearing a yellow sweater and tan brown pants. And lo, when traversing the parking lot, a male pops out of his parked vehicle and crosses our paths dressed exactly in the same colors, sprinting almost. It is the first time I have ever seen anyone sprint into Home Depot for crissakes.
Then when in Home Depot and getting the grass seed and dealing with my mother's delaying and batshit wacko tactics, why, a couple cruises by with an orange plastic shopping cart and the identical grass seed product in it. ( I was grasping the selected grass seed product, no hand or shopping basket). And lo, if the woman isn't also dressed in a yellow top and same brown color pants. And lo, if this woman doesn't come past for a second gangstalking by herself. Like WTF; why do I need to see this again, not even attractive.
And then it finally dawned on me; this is the day I skip the meds, one being yellow colored. So, yes, extra yellow colored gangstalking today, the Yellow Cab out in profusion and sitting around doing nothing. And too, DHL's loud yellow trucks were pre-positioned at two of my errand stops, seeming to do nothing as well.
Yesterday's (Sunday) afternoon city bus trip to suburbia was also fraught. A standing room situation on the #27, so I hung back to get the #28 and put up with the 10 minute walk instead of the 4 minute walk after getting off. I still got five loud and raucous dudes at the back, who got off altogether two stops later thankfully, as they were making out they were drunk. Later on the bus trip, this ponytail dude sits down opposite with his skateboard, the perp's favorite street accouterment after bicycles. After a few minutes he then directs me to press the "next stop" notification button/bell for him. I point to the fact that there is a button just beside him on the pole, and he presses it. Like WTF; why am I suddenly some dumbshit's chosen bell-ringing servant? The Fuckwit wasn't even pretending to be friendly or communicative in the first place, and wasn't the least bit apologetic or contrite, he just carries on looking at the floor. Then he gets up, and stands in the rear exit, and instead of waiting for the doors to open, facing them, he backs up to the panel that separates me and the rear exit. Like WTF; this is where the rear door retracts, and he is in the way, and is backing up to me for no seeming reason. (Maybe to show off his ponytail, something I have come to learn that I loathe on males). He finally figures this out as the door opens and gets out two stops ahead of me. Why do these wacko Fuckwits on the city bus visit their crap on me? And why wasn't I allowed to ream this Fuckwit out for being a total dick, assuming I was his lackey? Contained and constrained in high strangeness, especially the behavior of others.
Getting to be 2145h, and bedtime for this 0530h get-up farmworker to do all his body shaving and prepare for the day ahead. Posting now, while listening to Lola Beltran, Mexicanisim. Fantastic, and it only took me three years to execute on my interest in this performer. Not bad in perp-constraint time.
Showing posts with label yellow color gangstalking on no yellow medication days. Show all posts
Showing posts with label yellow color gangstalking on no yellow medication days. Show all posts
Monday, September 19, 2011
Monday, January 24, 2011
On With Pruning
1610h
I can always count on landscaping pruning to be big perp attractant, and so it was today. It was today, after doing the hydrangeas at the First Feral Family house, as the rain came on, shortening the time permitted and then giving me availible time to make a sortie to the local mall to get a resume faxed. Talk about silly, the amount of vehicular gangstalking in spades, some 50 or more grayscale color vehicles in the first half mile of suburbia with the odd navy blue in the mix, and then the dude-force once I was parked, raining heavier by then. And they had me "miss" my turn, and vacated the street so I could turn in mid-road and return to the same intersection making a left instead of the right turn if they hadn't dithered me. By then, many more hundreds of vehicles were in place on the four lane thoroughfare, McKenzie at Gordon Head Rd. And at four jaywalking hoodie dudes, all supposedly independently traversing the intersection also arrived as part of the gangstalking panalopy. More vehicular activity erupted when I exited the office shop, and then the "big browns' were also moving about in the too tight parking lot.
2005h
Back to online action after reading Saturday's newspaper on Monday, today. I don't know what the perps get from this exercise, but they are cautious to make sure I don't purchase a newspaper each Saturday, and also that I skip-read sections of it, especially if Unfavored Fugly pictures are next to articles I would ordinarily read in full. Talking up the multicultural nonsense seemed to be part of the drift, not to mention all those baubles in the ads I have no hope of acquiring, should I have the interest in the first place. Just keeping this PC running will be a $500 exercise by the time it is done. I ordered a new power supply, and will need to have it put in, as the perps don't like me to do my own PC repairs, turning me into a fumbling wreck just for the occasion.
Which means, getting some income soon, which means at this time of year, going daffodil picking and getting paid by the buch, $0.20/bunch of 10. They only let me do two weeks of it before we locals were all laid off last year, and the horde of 60 import Mexicans worked on picking for the next few months. But I see the perps had me purchase cashews last week, one of my typical break-time foods, and I see my mother had a potted daffodil in the house today, so it looks like it is going to be another horticultural year of earnings, such as they are.
And too, they had me acquire my father's unused old laminated steel knife from my mother's place, to replace the same knife that I lost (also formerly his) because they screwed me into "forgetting" where I left it. The foreman was headed in that direction and I asked her to retrieve it for me, and she "forgot" too. I had a spare knife, and used it for a few days before the show was shut down, per above mentioned layoff.
The perps have revitalized their interest in knives, and knife sharpening today. I also came across some one sided razor blades as well as the knife, and when I walked through the dude gauntlet at the front of the building and got into my apartment, I washed up one of the razor blades to be used in a low angle scraper to clean up perp paint spots that arrive in the night. As soon as I finished setting the razor in its mount, a sudden need to take a crap came on, and so that had to be dealt with, plunging and shower and all.
Later I honed the knife with the same diamond file I used last year, and apart from drilling a hole in the handle to put a loop through, it is ready for daffodil flower cutting. I can hardly wait. And too, I have one lime green bootlace remaining from last year, the same ribbon I used then. So here we have the same make, model and steel of knife, the same diamond file honing/sharpening, and the same material and color for the loop ribbon as last year, all in readiness to undertake the same yellow flower cutting toil in the fields as last year. Maybe they will let me more deft fingered so I can cut more flowers and make extra coin to defray these expensive PC repairs they laid on me. But it does go to show how far ahead the perps are planning, and to what level of detail. With the big question as to whether they will steal my knife again, so they can compare the energetics of using different kinds of knife edges; the Swedish laminated steel (unusual nowadays, except for expensive kitchen knives) or a more modern day mild steel. Who knows, and I care even less.
And it is a No Yellow Medication Intake Day today, as it is most Sunday night stayovers at the First Feral Family house, and sure enough, the infernal DHL courier trucks in gaudy yellow and red signage were out on the gangtalking trail today. Then two big yellow school buses were on my tail for the aforementioned driving Mackenzie today, one next or behind me, and then another some 100' back. Just to think, that the daffodil picking will also entail pickups in a yellow school bus. And that this scenario is identical to last year should it come to pass. At least the currency isn't yellow.
And watching the ice skating last night, the Canadian championships, held here locally for the second year running. The perps were up to their pixellization games, freezing the skater in mid-program and then laying on some coarse pixels in black, white and their sweater color over top of the skater. And lo, if this didn't "happen" for most of the skaters. Now tell me, if one gets a glitchy digital signal, does it happen over top of the central object of the picture each time? Only in TI World can that "happen" and these tactical TV pixel glitches have an unerring ability to dither persons or faces, especially at their eyes. Go figure.
Other momentous perp event must of been yesterday's inaugural use of the coffee grinder I got for Christmas. The first time I have had self-ground coffee for over ten years, and they made sure the grinder sat unused for a month as I had plenty of store purchased ground coffee on hand. The first thing the perps did is have two coffee messes erupt from no seen cause, one on each counter, 90 degrees offset. I don't know how these messes arrived, as I took exceptional care that it didn't happen because I know they will exploit every possible event to create one. So I was fucking pissed over this, and they have me poised to chuck the grinder out for their mess games.
Yesterday afternoon, instead of the First Feral Family tea-time we had tea at the ex's place with out daughter present, so I can assume this too was all about gangstalking the TI Victim with different coffee in him, having it burr ground at home instead of purchased ground. The in-store coffee grinding ended a few months before, as the assholes kept sabotaging it to make another mess. Apparently, it wasn't enough that they had their Fuckwits in full flight around me while the brown coffee beans were being milled, so they had to fuck me over some more and have all three grinders in the store go glitchy and make coffee messes. So then, they allowed me to find the pre-ground coffee, as somehow I had missed seeing it for the previous two years, and that was working just fine until yesterday when another round of coffee messes started up, this time arriving from nowhere and on the first day of using the new burr grinder. I am sure the brown coffee battles have a long way to go yet, and it may well entail chucking the grinder for the simplicity of pre-ground coffee, assuming they won't constrict the supply or my cognition in seeing it in the store. Yet another asinine battle ground with the perps that was evident from early on in the overt/beserk stage, and ranks up there with Cling Wrap handling in terms of consistency and relentlessnes. Who would ever believe a limitlessly funded secret agency would be fucking over innocent citizens over the color of their coffee, where it came from, how it was ground and made for close to nine years and counting? And that they have legions of gangstalking Fuckwits parading the streets everytime when I am out, packing their coffee as card carrying members of the Coffee Corps? And now, on the city bus no less. Stupid and stupider.
But the perps have had a long standing pre-occupation with the color brown; when they invaded my apartment in 04-15-2002 they put on brown plasma displays that caused me to collapse in a heap. Five days later, while driving at 0500h on the I-5 N. of Seattle, they banked a brown plasma beam off the inside of my glasses and the same thing happened, I started to slide down in the seat as I hadn't the ability to keep myself up. Just then, a vehicle of four adults came up beside me and some kind of jolt was applied to me and stopped me from collapsing in the driver's seat. Which causes me to wonder how many vehicle accidents have been created in this manner, or was my brown plasma flash experience unique to me? I don't know, but they also plugged up my toilet with a balloon during the invasion, and I had to get a plumber's snake to unclog it, and taking a shit has been a high risk experience ever since. Not my problem, so why am I hounded by the brown-clowns everywhere I go?
And am I the only person who gets a Purolator tracking number and then gets the response that they don't have the number? Does the litany of insane trivial obsessional Fuckover games ever end? Just fucking bizarre to say the least, but since the overt/beserk harassment started I have all manner of odd parcel delivery events; not knowing that it was shipped and having the courier unexpectedly arriving, the parcels that stay in one place for a week, the parcels that the manager accepts on my behalf and doesn't tell me about for a week and only responds when I complain to the courier, the no-notice deliveries where no notice of the delivery was provided and having me find out via the tracking number, and so it goes. Constant intervention and fucking around over parcel delivery, and I won't get into the brown box color games that go with this stupid game, yet another one to join coffee mess and Cling Wrap as three of the Most Stupid Perp Obsession and Disruption Themes going.
2130h
Am I getting spoofed again? I had 22 Facebook messages today when I first went online, and another ten trickled in later. I don't have a Facebook account and I have not "friended" anyone, and haven't responded to any requests, and yet I get this spamming all the same. Any idea how that can happen?
2225h
More music listening tonight, and that is when this PC starts slowing down. Downloads too, when they weren't ever much of a problem before. Soo... not something a PSU would fix is my take on it. But I wanted the Seasonic 460W Fanless PSU so bad, (read, perp planted notion), that any excuse will do.
Anyhow, time to blog off and contemplate how long they are going to keep me up tonight, lying in bed awake, per usual Monday night post-FFF visitation.
I can always count on landscaping pruning to be big perp attractant, and so it was today. It was today, after doing the hydrangeas at the First Feral Family house, as the rain came on, shortening the time permitted and then giving me availible time to make a sortie to the local mall to get a resume faxed. Talk about silly, the amount of vehicular gangstalking in spades, some 50 or more grayscale color vehicles in the first half mile of suburbia with the odd navy blue in the mix, and then the dude-force once I was parked, raining heavier by then. And they had me "miss" my turn, and vacated the street so I could turn in mid-road and return to the same intersection making a left instead of the right turn if they hadn't dithered me. By then, many more hundreds of vehicles were in place on the four lane thoroughfare, McKenzie at Gordon Head Rd. And at four jaywalking hoodie dudes, all supposedly independently traversing the intersection also arrived as part of the gangstalking panalopy. More vehicular activity erupted when I exited the office shop, and then the "big browns' were also moving about in the too tight parking lot.
2005h
Back to online action after reading Saturday's newspaper on Monday, today. I don't know what the perps get from this exercise, but they are cautious to make sure I don't purchase a newspaper each Saturday, and also that I skip-read sections of it, especially if Unfavored Fugly pictures are next to articles I would ordinarily read in full. Talking up the multicultural nonsense seemed to be part of the drift, not to mention all those baubles in the ads I have no hope of acquiring, should I have the interest in the first place. Just keeping this PC running will be a $500 exercise by the time it is done. I ordered a new power supply, and will need to have it put in, as the perps don't like me to do my own PC repairs, turning me into a fumbling wreck just for the occasion.
Which means, getting some income soon, which means at this time of year, going daffodil picking and getting paid by the buch, $0.20/bunch of 10. They only let me do two weeks of it before we locals were all laid off last year, and the horde of 60 import Mexicans worked on picking for the next few months. But I see the perps had me purchase cashews last week, one of my typical break-time foods, and I see my mother had a potted daffodil in the house today, so it looks like it is going to be another horticultural year of earnings, such as they are.
And too, they had me acquire my father's unused old laminated steel knife from my mother's place, to replace the same knife that I lost (also formerly his) because they screwed me into "forgetting" where I left it. The foreman was headed in that direction and I asked her to retrieve it for me, and she "forgot" too. I had a spare knife, and used it for a few days before the show was shut down, per above mentioned layoff.
The perps have revitalized their interest in knives, and knife sharpening today. I also came across some one sided razor blades as well as the knife, and when I walked through the dude gauntlet at the front of the building and got into my apartment, I washed up one of the razor blades to be used in a low angle scraper to clean up perp paint spots that arrive in the night. As soon as I finished setting the razor in its mount, a sudden need to take a crap came on, and so that had to be dealt with, plunging and shower and all.
Later I honed the knife with the same diamond file I used last year, and apart from drilling a hole in the handle to put a loop through, it is ready for daffodil flower cutting. I can hardly wait. And too, I have one lime green bootlace remaining from last year, the same ribbon I used then. So here we have the same make, model and steel of knife, the same diamond file honing/sharpening, and the same material and color for the loop ribbon as last year, all in readiness to undertake the same yellow flower cutting toil in the fields as last year. Maybe they will let me more deft fingered so I can cut more flowers and make extra coin to defray these expensive PC repairs they laid on me. But it does go to show how far ahead the perps are planning, and to what level of detail. With the big question as to whether they will steal my knife again, so they can compare the energetics of using different kinds of knife edges; the Swedish laminated steel (unusual nowadays, except for expensive kitchen knives) or a more modern day mild steel. Who knows, and I care even less.
And it is a No Yellow Medication Intake Day today, as it is most Sunday night stayovers at the First Feral Family house, and sure enough, the infernal DHL courier trucks in gaudy yellow and red signage were out on the gangtalking trail today. Then two big yellow school buses were on my tail for the aforementioned driving Mackenzie today, one next or behind me, and then another some 100' back. Just to think, that the daffodil picking will also entail pickups in a yellow school bus. And that this scenario is identical to last year should it come to pass. At least the currency isn't yellow.
And watching the ice skating last night, the Canadian championships, held here locally for the second year running. The perps were up to their pixellization games, freezing the skater in mid-program and then laying on some coarse pixels in black, white and their sweater color over top of the skater. And lo, if this didn't "happen" for most of the skaters. Now tell me, if one gets a glitchy digital signal, does it happen over top of the central object of the picture each time? Only in TI World can that "happen" and these tactical TV pixel glitches have an unerring ability to dither persons or faces, especially at their eyes. Go figure.
Other momentous perp event must of been yesterday's inaugural use of the coffee grinder I got for Christmas. The first time I have had self-ground coffee for over ten years, and they made sure the grinder sat unused for a month as I had plenty of store purchased ground coffee on hand. The first thing the perps did is have two coffee messes erupt from no seen cause, one on each counter, 90 degrees offset. I don't know how these messes arrived, as I took exceptional care that it didn't happen because I know they will exploit every possible event to create one. So I was fucking pissed over this, and they have me poised to chuck the grinder out for their mess games.
Yesterday afternoon, instead of the First Feral Family tea-time we had tea at the ex's place with out daughter present, so I can assume this too was all about gangstalking the TI Victim with different coffee in him, having it burr ground at home instead of purchased ground. The in-store coffee grinding ended a few months before, as the assholes kept sabotaging it to make another mess. Apparently, it wasn't enough that they had their Fuckwits in full flight around me while the brown coffee beans were being milled, so they had to fuck me over some more and have all three grinders in the store go glitchy and make coffee messes. So then, they allowed me to find the pre-ground coffee, as somehow I had missed seeing it for the previous two years, and that was working just fine until yesterday when another round of coffee messes started up, this time arriving from nowhere and on the first day of using the new burr grinder. I am sure the brown coffee battles have a long way to go yet, and it may well entail chucking the grinder for the simplicity of pre-ground coffee, assuming they won't constrict the supply or my cognition in seeing it in the store. Yet another asinine battle ground with the perps that was evident from early on in the overt/beserk stage, and ranks up there with Cling Wrap handling in terms of consistency and relentlessnes. Who would ever believe a limitlessly funded secret agency would be fucking over innocent citizens over the color of their coffee, where it came from, how it was ground and made for close to nine years and counting? And that they have legions of gangstalking Fuckwits parading the streets everytime when I am out, packing their coffee as card carrying members of the Coffee Corps? And now, on the city bus no less. Stupid and stupider.
But the perps have had a long standing pre-occupation with the color brown; when they invaded my apartment in 04-15-2002 they put on brown plasma displays that caused me to collapse in a heap. Five days later, while driving at 0500h on the I-5 N. of Seattle, they banked a brown plasma beam off the inside of my glasses and the same thing happened, I started to slide down in the seat as I hadn't the ability to keep myself up. Just then, a vehicle of four adults came up beside me and some kind of jolt was applied to me and stopped me from collapsing in the driver's seat. Which causes me to wonder how many vehicle accidents have been created in this manner, or was my brown plasma flash experience unique to me? I don't know, but they also plugged up my toilet with a balloon during the invasion, and I had to get a plumber's snake to unclog it, and taking a shit has been a high risk experience ever since. Not my problem, so why am I hounded by the brown-clowns everywhere I go?
And am I the only person who gets a Purolator tracking number and then gets the response that they don't have the number? Does the litany of insane trivial obsessional Fuckover games ever end? Just fucking bizarre to say the least, but since the overt/beserk harassment started I have all manner of odd parcel delivery events; not knowing that it was shipped and having the courier unexpectedly arriving, the parcels that stay in one place for a week, the parcels that the manager accepts on my behalf and doesn't tell me about for a week and only responds when I complain to the courier, the no-notice deliveries where no notice of the delivery was provided and having me find out via the tracking number, and so it goes. Constant intervention and fucking around over parcel delivery, and I won't get into the brown box color games that go with this stupid game, yet another one to join coffee mess and Cling Wrap as three of the Most Stupid Perp Obsession and Disruption Themes going.
2130h
Am I getting spoofed again? I had 22 Facebook messages today when I first went online, and another ten trickled in later. I don't have a Facebook account and I have not "friended" anyone, and haven't responded to any requests, and yet I get this spamming all the same. Any idea how that can happen?
2225h
More music listening tonight, and that is when this PC starts slowing down. Downloads too, when they weren't ever much of a problem before. Soo... not something a PSU would fix is my take on it. But I wanted the Seasonic 460W Fanless PSU so bad, (read, perp planted notion), that any excuse will do.
Anyhow, time to blog off and contemplate how long they are going to keep me up tonight, lying in bed awake, per usual Monday night post-FFF visitation.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Monday Wrap Rap
2025h
Late to be starting to blog the slings of arrows of unconventional abuse, and a sudden sinus leak has joined the fray as I type this.
I stayed overnight at the First Feral Family home, in an ridiculous 10 hour sleep, likely timed for whatever the deemed exposure is planned for the morning, My mother was on "get in my way" or "tail me tight" duty this morning, adroitly managing to obstruct the access to the mugs when coffee was ready, ditto for he plates when needing one for my toast that she was also blocking. And as always, I get totally jerked around now, I would know all these feints and fuckarounds and "somehow" I "forget", ever since mid-2006.
Another near-affront is dealing with incongrous babble from my mother, she indicating that she needed to go to "do her income tax" and somehow adding "bank" into the story as well as a third place that I am not allowed to recall. I had to ask her what one had to do with the other, a first time that I haven't been allowed to decode the inferences she artfully strings together under the cover of old age dither.
I got the drift eventually, and in the process was assigned to plant her two varieties of onions in the raised garden beds I built. Then another round of circumlocution as to which of the two raised beds and where in the bed did she want them and how many and the relative proportions of each and so on. She actually said "east west" which is way out of character as I don't believe she really knows, even after having lived there for over 40 years. Of course she was pointing north-south with her hands when saying that, but eventually I did get a consistent story of where to plant the onions. I find it rather strange that for the important part of gardening, planting the seed or plants, she takes off for a half hour or so while the work is begun and only arrives at the very end of the task when I was covering up the plants for possible squirrel digging. Ditto for my in-town brother; he has a rock wall he wants me to start and takes off after putting the string line in the wrong place. Obviously he knew which instructions I was to follow. Later, he finished the wall himself, but the starter course is the most important and he left it to me absenting himself for no specific reason. This same wierd behavior of "task abandonment" at the critical stage of the job is most curious to say the least, and has been noted before in other First Feral Family encounters.
And a doctor appointment today in the early afternoon, my mother dropping me off with the red vehicle cavalcade (gangstalkers) all about us. And a 15 minute wait in the waiting room so the shiftless males in their red coats could slither in one by one, have their mouths hanging open and read newspapers. This seemed to be the set up for the Fuckwit that came later and paced back and forth, dressed in brown with an orange bag slung from his shoulder. This seemed to be the big deal, having the bag exposed, then when he walked the other direction it was behind him, and then other Fuckwits would pass in front of him and behind him, presumably as some kind of "color stacking" interaction games, the all too familiar "peekaboo" games the assholes like to indulge in.
And too, I was sitting on the copper colored seats in the waiting area, the third round of interior design improvement in six years, and there was nothing wrong with the last two sets of chairs. The first set was deep burgandy red colored, the next set was brown, and now copper color. That I sat on a mid-brown couch last night for some four hours watching the news, 60 Minutes, Prime Suspect, Thrilla From Manila documentary and the National was likely part of the perp's "brown testing", but I am long past any kind of interest in follow on perp manifestations.
The doctor visitation was uneventful save for the number of times he was looking elsewhere when I was talking to him, at least eight times in 25 minutes. I have long seen this behavior, going back decades, and could never understand at the time as to why this was so prevalent; if they asked the question then surely they would be interested in the answer? Not in TI World where the interactions are scripted and rehearsed, and now that the sickos are in overt-beserk mode, they don't make any bones about it if they want to break off visual interaction. It is not unlike the phone calls, especially to new parties, that begin with back and forths via voice mails, then they are busy and will call later, and then a call gets underway and then they get pullled off, and finally, the call gets completed. The same incremental exposure to the individual via telephone is also applied to in person engagements of any duration. Go figure, but it has been totally consistent for over seven years now and is a sure way to pick off TI collaborators.
I got to tell my doctor my story as to three rounds of impasses, now five weeks long and counting, as to getting a removable hard drive rack for this PC, and lo, if by coincidence I hadn't told my mother about it the day before. It seems the assholes like me to tell their chosen quislings about their antics, telling the same story about the lastest jerkaround, and "naturally", to no empathy or useful responses. It just seems like an excuse to have me sound off, and in this blog too.
I took the bus from the doctor's appointment to downtown and had my usual freakshow around me. The sickos had the Big Yellow coat next to the babe at a nearby seat, he in a PVC rain coat when it wasn't raining or even a threat of it. As Mondays after a First Feral Family stayover are without me taking any yellow colored medication, it is a prime yellow gangstalker day. Another Unfavored freak was a male suit getting on in a residential area, going one stop and getting off with the person behind him doing the exact same thing. I haven't seen this particular antic before, combining fellow travellers (who pretend to not know each other) with short bus hops, but there are always new combinations of their repetoire of stupid bullshit, and this was one more.
And I am still getting skunked on Milka chocolate at the LD store, making a much gangstalked stop after getting off the bus; a week of an empty shelf location where the Milka bars were, but no replacement. Second best is the Ritter bars, which were 18" deep in the shelf, making me reach in between shelves inches from my arm. This seems to be the trend of late; put the desired item deep in the shelf. This was done with milk last week, replaced sooner because of premature souring of the milk on hand, and has also been exercised in getting gluten free bread from the freezer section.
Then to the lobby of this apartment building where there were ready for me with the off/on assistant manager on the couch and a motorized wheelchair act blocking stairway access as the elevators are still down to one working elevator. Just when I thought this was a squeeze play to keep me in place with the gangstalking company, the elevator arrives, and lo, if it wasn't another motorized wheelchair case. I haven't seen one of these in the building for close to three years of tenancy, and here there was a lobby eruption of two at once, just to keep me jangled, as I fucking hate the sight of wheelchairs. Or, at least, that is the way I am being run, as I didn't really care before 2002 when the perps went overt-beserk. Now, I am hounded all the time by these specters and the perps make sure I am hightly "reactive", read, mind-controlled/planted reaction. It is all part of the Favored and Unfavored scenario, (link at the right) though in the case of motorized wheelchairs, I don't think they really existed back in the "lost years" of 1956 to 1960, when there was recall deletion applied to what I witnessed and what was done to me. Perhaps these motorized wheelchairs don't have the same traumatization associations like manual ones, and hence have comparative value for the sickos. Who knows.
And who in the fuck stands directly behind someone else waiting for a pedestrian traffic signal when there is plenty of room at the curb? I was the only person at the crosswalk corner, and I wouldn't of known she was there until I heard a noise behind me. Another "never before" of public behavior at crosswalks, this doe-eyed babe directly behind me with her coffee in hand, all part of the Coffee Corps that hounds me in public. As in Browning Around, sicko major theme.
That is all the excitement for today, and I get to do gardening and soil sieving tomorrow, an activity that is always of interest to the perps.
--
Add -on;
Two guitar stalkings today, odd for how little I was out. An electric guitar bearing Fuckwit, sans case, on the street my mother lives on, some 200 meters from her place, passing by in her vehicle. Then a "just standing there" Fuckwit with a guitar on his back in the grounds of the hospital some 60' distant, staring at the trees from 4' away for crissakes. I haven't seen an electric guitar out of its case in public before, and only in the past four months did I encounter a case-less acoustic guitar packing gangstalker. I reckon the harmomics from the strings are what interests the perps, and they DO LOVE wires that are wound with more wire, like the steel strings and plumbing snakes.
Late to be starting to blog the slings of arrows of unconventional abuse, and a sudden sinus leak has joined the fray as I type this.
I stayed overnight at the First Feral Family home, in an ridiculous 10 hour sleep, likely timed for whatever the deemed exposure is planned for the morning, My mother was on "get in my way" or "tail me tight" duty this morning, adroitly managing to obstruct the access to the mugs when coffee was ready, ditto for he plates when needing one for my toast that she was also blocking. And as always, I get totally jerked around now, I would know all these feints and fuckarounds and "somehow" I "forget", ever since mid-2006.
Another near-affront is dealing with incongrous babble from my mother, she indicating that she needed to go to "do her income tax" and somehow adding "bank" into the story as well as a third place that I am not allowed to recall. I had to ask her what one had to do with the other, a first time that I haven't been allowed to decode the inferences she artfully strings together under the cover of old age dither.
I got the drift eventually, and in the process was assigned to plant her two varieties of onions in the raised garden beds I built. Then another round of circumlocution as to which of the two raised beds and where in the bed did she want them and how many and the relative proportions of each and so on. She actually said "east west" which is way out of character as I don't believe she really knows, even after having lived there for over 40 years. Of course she was pointing north-south with her hands when saying that, but eventually I did get a consistent story of where to plant the onions. I find it rather strange that for the important part of gardening, planting the seed or plants, she takes off for a half hour or so while the work is begun and only arrives at the very end of the task when I was covering up the plants for possible squirrel digging. Ditto for my in-town brother; he has a rock wall he wants me to start and takes off after putting the string line in the wrong place. Obviously he knew which instructions I was to follow. Later, he finished the wall himself, but the starter course is the most important and he left it to me absenting himself for no specific reason. This same wierd behavior of "task abandonment" at the critical stage of the job is most curious to say the least, and has been noted before in other First Feral Family encounters.
And a doctor appointment today in the early afternoon, my mother dropping me off with the red vehicle cavalcade (gangstalkers) all about us. And a 15 minute wait in the waiting room so the shiftless males in their red coats could slither in one by one, have their mouths hanging open and read newspapers. This seemed to be the set up for the Fuckwit that came later and paced back and forth, dressed in brown with an orange bag slung from his shoulder. This seemed to be the big deal, having the bag exposed, then when he walked the other direction it was behind him, and then other Fuckwits would pass in front of him and behind him, presumably as some kind of "color stacking" interaction games, the all too familiar "peekaboo" games the assholes like to indulge in.
And too, I was sitting on the copper colored seats in the waiting area, the third round of interior design improvement in six years, and there was nothing wrong with the last two sets of chairs. The first set was deep burgandy red colored, the next set was brown, and now copper color. That I sat on a mid-brown couch last night for some four hours watching the news, 60 Minutes, Prime Suspect, Thrilla From Manila documentary and the National was likely part of the perp's "brown testing", but I am long past any kind of interest in follow on perp manifestations.
The doctor visitation was uneventful save for the number of times he was looking elsewhere when I was talking to him, at least eight times in 25 minutes. I have long seen this behavior, going back decades, and could never understand at the time as to why this was so prevalent; if they asked the question then surely they would be interested in the answer? Not in TI World where the interactions are scripted and rehearsed, and now that the sickos are in overt-beserk mode, they don't make any bones about it if they want to break off visual interaction. It is not unlike the phone calls, especially to new parties, that begin with back and forths via voice mails, then they are busy and will call later, and then a call gets underway and then they get pullled off, and finally, the call gets completed. The same incremental exposure to the individual via telephone is also applied to in person engagements of any duration. Go figure, but it has been totally consistent for over seven years now and is a sure way to pick off TI collaborators.
I got to tell my doctor my story as to three rounds of impasses, now five weeks long and counting, as to getting a removable hard drive rack for this PC, and lo, if by coincidence I hadn't told my mother about it the day before. It seems the assholes like me to tell their chosen quislings about their antics, telling the same story about the lastest jerkaround, and "naturally", to no empathy or useful responses. It just seems like an excuse to have me sound off, and in this blog too.
I took the bus from the doctor's appointment to downtown and had my usual freakshow around me. The sickos had the Big Yellow coat next to the babe at a nearby seat, he in a PVC rain coat when it wasn't raining or even a threat of it. As Mondays after a First Feral Family stayover are without me taking any yellow colored medication, it is a prime yellow gangstalker day. Another Unfavored freak was a male suit getting on in a residential area, going one stop and getting off with the person behind him doing the exact same thing. I haven't seen this particular antic before, combining fellow travellers (who pretend to not know each other) with short bus hops, but there are always new combinations of their repetoire of stupid bullshit, and this was one more.
And I am still getting skunked on Milka chocolate at the LD store, making a much gangstalked stop after getting off the bus; a week of an empty shelf location where the Milka bars were, but no replacement. Second best is the Ritter bars, which were 18" deep in the shelf, making me reach in between shelves inches from my arm. This seems to be the trend of late; put the desired item deep in the shelf. This was done with milk last week, replaced sooner because of premature souring of the milk on hand, and has also been exercised in getting gluten free bread from the freezer section.
Then to the lobby of this apartment building where there were ready for me with the off/on assistant manager on the couch and a motorized wheelchair act blocking stairway access as the elevators are still down to one working elevator. Just when I thought this was a squeeze play to keep me in place with the gangstalking company, the elevator arrives, and lo, if it wasn't another motorized wheelchair case. I haven't seen one of these in the building for close to three years of tenancy, and here there was a lobby eruption of two at once, just to keep me jangled, as I fucking hate the sight of wheelchairs. Or, at least, that is the way I am being run, as I didn't really care before 2002 when the perps went overt-beserk. Now, I am hounded all the time by these specters and the perps make sure I am hightly "reactive", read, mind-controlled/planted reaction. It is all part of the Favored and Unfavored scenario, (link at the right) though in the case of motorized wheelchairs, I don't think they really existed back in the "lost years" of 1956 to 1960, when there was recall deletion applied to what I witnessed and what was done to me. Perhaps these motorized wheelchairs don't have the same traumatization associations like manual ones, and hence have comparative value for the sickos. Who knows.
And who in the fuck stands directly behind someone else waiting for a pedestrian traffic signal when there is plenty of room at the curb? I was the only person at the crosswalk corner, and I wouldn't of known she was there until I heard a noise behind me. Another "never before" of public behavior at crosswalks, this doe-eyed babe directly behind me with her coffee in hand, all part of the Coffee Corps that hounds me in public. As in Browning Around, sicko major theme.
That is all the excitement for today, and I get to do gardening and soil sieving tomorrow, an activity that is always of interest to the perps.
--
Add -on;
Two guitar stalkings today, odd for how little I was out. An electric guitar bearing Fuckwit, sans case, on the street my mother lives on, some 200 meters from her place, passing by in her vehicle. Then a "just standing there" Fuckwit with a guitar on his back in the grounds of the hospital some 60' distant, staring at the trees from 4' away for crissakes. I haven't seen an electric guitar out of its case in public before, and only in the past four months did I encounter a case-less acoustic guitar packing gangstalker. I reckon the harmomics from the strings are what interests the perps, and they DO LOVE wires that are wound with more wire, like the steel strings and plumbing snakes.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Sunday Short Post
1135h
An incendary piece on the Houston Police here; Houston, We Have a Problem. The usual thumps and noise were getting through my earmuffs while reading this very stark journalism on what transpires for democracy in that city. Like the author says, it won't change one bit, and the locals know how to outfox any outside do-gooders.
My PC rebuild plans are continuing; hard drives have been ordered from Vancouver, and so continues the geographic dispersion of the sourcing of the components. The CPU has already been purchased two weeks ago in Richmond BC, and the video cards might come from Calgary AB. The last PC build of three years ago had the CPU and memory come from Ontario and the motherboard locally after three weeks of delays and a prior unexpected shortage from another supplier. Of course all these are nominative sources; the CPU is actually made in Costa Rica (Intel Core i7 920), most of the electronics and memory are from Taiwan and the hard drives from Indonesia. How the perps figure all that out in advance is beyond me, but this choreography of better prices elsewhere, unavailibility, delays and the rest of it is highly orchestrated. And of course, where do all elemental substances that comprise the electronics come from; the metals and plastics etc.? it just boggles my mind that all this is governed and fucked with; some components will get stored for some weeks at my place, some will be sent to my mother's place for me to pick up, while others will be aquired by the PC builder directly. And of course, the PC case has been in my possession for over a year, and I am sure that it has a raft of perp management contingencies applied to it. (Like when I first brought it home; a lead-ahead gangstalking pickup and camper combination in black and silver colors, the same as the PC case in my parent's vehicle I was driving). Most of the old PC parts will be shunted into a "budget box" that my mother will use, and so continues the perps' relentless and sustained games of obsessing and arranging the color of everything, including the wiring sheathing, PCB boards, metal colors and the rest of it. No wonder they often gangstalk me with fugly copper colored vehicles, usually introducing them after a "warm up" of black, white, silver-grey, mid-grey and other greyscale colors. And too, the copper colored vehicles are presented in the center of such vehicle aggregations, keeping the greyscale reference colored vehicles all around them. The perps even put on two adjacent copper colored vehicles last week, an all time first for this obnoxious vehicle color.
Presently, I expect a big yellow color gangstalking later today when out with the First Feral Family; my yellow colored medication ran out on Thursday and the doctor didn't respond to my phone message request for a new Rx to cover me until the Oct. 05 appointment. Past experience has been that Rx-free Mondays, (I regularly "forget" to take them for my overnight stays at my parent's place, the First Feral Family home), and for the odd week away, the perps lay on yellow dressed gangstalkers and gangstalking vehicles in substantially greater numbers. Not my problem if I don't like yellow, red and yellow together and a few other colors. Why has it consumed an insane and illegal uber-agency for over 7.5 years in applying this abuse and subverting genuine clinical care? (Not that I need any in the first place; I was doing fine until all this shit came down in 04-2002). Don't ask me, I only the victim, not a shill, quisling or operative to cover the gradation of sick-minded involvement in this remotely applied psychopathic "total neural awareness" depredation. [Cue hot rod noise through my earmuffs as I typed in the above quoted phrase]. I would rather be in the Harris County Jail courtesy of the Houston Police than this interminable and deranged fuckery at every breath, thought or move I make.
And the Windows mouse cursor fucking games have been getting on my nerves for the past two months or so; at least three or more seconds delay in action (keystroke or mouseclick) and outcome when it was virtually instant before that. And the cursor movement is delayed as well as the incorrect cursor symbology; where a vertical line is expected for input I get an arrow, or even a finger pointer which is usually reserved for a hyperlink. And as part of this Windows kernel fuckery, some of my inputs, like for credit card information, gets placed on the wrong lines, splitting my phone number among multiple input boxes when the keystroke/mouseclick order was correct. Just more of the same, along with the parade of unempathic playing dumb contact cast (First Feral Family, clinical clowns, and all other quislings), all of whom should rot in hell if justice will be ever delivered.
Above is the dark and negative version for today, but I actually feel a lot better than the above screed suggests, so don't take it as a mood lapse, har, har, and for the clinical clowns who leverage every faint excuse, I don't want to hear any reference to the above for the next appointment in October. But as a pre-emptive heads up, I want to hear a reasoned and cogent and intelligent answer to the gonzo assertion that "my case isn't well managed". First, I want to know to whom it applies, me or the doctor, and secondly, I want to hear how it can possibly be managed anybetter when a substantial body of my complaints is about the public behavior of individuals in my proximity. Since the perps have had me beating that thought to death 10x per day for the last month, and will do so until October 05, I really don't expect an answer, and possibly the mouthpiece (so called health case worker), for that particular vituperative phrase won't be there as requested.
It is interesting that my mother leaves for a three week visitation to the UK later that day, and I will be driving her to the airport afterward. Assuming of course, some kind of incarceration inititiative isn't afoot. One never knows, but at they have me visiting my father in an extended health care facility once per week (later today), perhaps that is all the hospital contact the perps want me to have. They make my skin crawl when I visit the place, so perhaps that is my Unfavored ration of hospital exposure they need to put me through in any given week. As an aside, I pass the laundry facility there when I visit, and I don't like the smell of it one bit, though it is a genuine institutional laundry smell. Then the perp fuckers played that same laundry smell on me when I was back at my place, in essence, performing the same Unfavored smell in different, a non-hospital setting. Clever, separating the smell from the genuine context/source. And funny how they knew I didn't like the smell as I never mentioned it. When making these visitations to my father at his extended stay facility, I am with my mother and we take him back to the First Feral Family home for a visitation for a few hours. And lo, if she doesn't now pause at the said laundry area looking for missing articles of clothing. Somehow, they go missing when there is identifying sewn-in labels on all my father's, and all other patients' clothing.
2310h
I got sidetracked with email and a very first IM chat with a TI. Some genuine interaction was permitted, and both at the same time, making switching between them an unaccustomed cognitive shift. Anyhow, that is all for today, above rants only.
An incendary piece on the Houston Police here; Houston, We Have a Problem. The usual thumps and noise were getting through my earmuffs while reading this very stark journalism on what transpires for democracy in that city. Like the author says, it won't change one bit, and the locals know how to outfox any outside do-gooders.
My PC rebuild plans are continuing; hard drives have been ordered from Vancouver, and so continues the geographic dispersion of the sourcing of the components. The CPU has already been purchased two weeks ago in Richmond BC, and the video cards might come from Calgary AB. The last PC build of three years ago had the CPU and memory come from Ontario and the motherboard locally after three weeks of delays and a prior unexpected shortage from another supplier. Of course all these are nominative sources; the CPU is actually made in Costa Rica (Intel Core i7 920), most of the electronics and memory are from Taiwan and the hard drives from Indonesia. How the perps figure all that out in advance is beyond me, but this choreography of better prices elsewhere, unavailibility, delays and the rest of it is highly orchestrated. And of course, where do all elemental substances that comprise the electronics come from; the metals and plastics etc.? it just boggles my mind that all this is governed and fucked with; some components will get stored for some weeks at my place, some will be sent to my mother's place for me to pick up, while others will be aquired by the PC builder directly. And of course, the PC case has been in my possession for over a year, and I am sure that it has a raft of perp management contingencies applied to it. (Like when I first brought it home; a lead-ahead gangstalking pickup and camper combination in black and silver colors, the same as the PC case in my parent's vehicle I was driving). Most of the old PC parts will be shunted into a "budget box" that my mother will use, and so continues the perps' relentless and sustained games of obsessing and arranging the color of everything, including the wiring sheathing, PCB boards, metal colors and the rest of it. No wonder they often gangstalk me with fugly copper colored vehicles, usually introducing them after a "warm up" of black, white, silver-grey, mid-grey and other greyscale colors. And too, the copper colored vehicles are presented in the center of such vehicle aggregations, keeping the greyscale reference colored vehicles all around them. The perps even put on two adjacent copper colored vehicles last week, an all time first for this obnoxious vehicle color.
Presently, I expect a big yellow color gangstalking later today when out with the First Feral Family; my yellow colored medication ran out on Thursday and the doctor didn't respond to my phone message request for a new Rx to cover me until the Oct. 05 appointment. Past experience has been that Rx-free Mondays, (I regularly "forget" to take them for my overnight stays at my parent's place, the First Feral Family home), and for the odd week away, the perps lay on yellow dressed gangstalkers and gangstalking vehicles in substantially greater numbers. Not my problem if I don't like yellow, red and yellow together and a few other colors. Why has it consumed an insane and illegal uber-agency for over 7.5 years in applying this abuse and subverting genuine clinical care? (Not that I need any in the first place; I was doing fine until all this shit came down in 04-2002). Don't ask me, I only the victim, not a shill, quisling or operative to cover the gradation of sick-minded involvement in this remotely applied psychopathic "total neural awareness" depredation. [Cue hot rod noise through my earmuffs as I typed in the above quoted phrase]. I would rather be in the Harris County Jail courtesy of the Houston Police than this interminable and deranged fuckery at every breath, thought or move I make.
And the Windows mouse cursor fucking games have been getting on my nerves for the past two months or so; at least three or more seconds delay in action (keystroke or mouseclick) and outcome when it was virtually instant before that. And the cursor movement is delayed as well as the incorrect cursor symbology; where a vertical line is expected for input I get an arrow, or even a finger pointer which is usually reserved for a hyperlink. And as part of this Windows kernel fuckery, some of my inputs, like for credit card information, gets placed on the wrong lines, splitting my phone number among multiple input boxes when the keystroke/mouseclick order was correct. Just more of the same, along with the parade of unempathic playing dumb contact cast (First Feral Family, clinical clowns, and all other quislings), all of whom should rot in hell if justice will be ever delivered.
Above is the dark and negative version for today, but I actually feel a lot better than the above screed suggests, so don't take it as a mood lapse, har, har, and for the clinical clowns who leverage every faint excuse, I don't want to hear any reference to the above for the next appointment in October. But as a pre-emptive heads up, I want to hear a reasoned and cogent and intelligent answer to the gonzo assertion that "my case isn't well managed". First, I want to know to whom it applies, me or the doctor, and secondly, I want to hear how it can possibly be managed anybetter when a substantial body of my complaints is about the public behavior of individuals in my proximity. Since the perps have had me beating that thought to death 10x per day for the last month, and will do so until October 05, I really don't expect an answer, and possibly the mouthpiece (so called health case worker), for that particular vituperative phrase won't be there as requested.
It is interesting that my mother leaves for a three week visitation to the UK later that day, and I will be driving her to the airport afterward. Assuming of course, some kind of incarceration inititiative isn't afoot. One never knows, but at they have me visiting my father in an extended health care facility once per week (later today), perhaps that is all the hospital contact the perps want me to have. They make my skin crawl when I visit the place, so perhaps that is my Unfavored ration of hospital exposure they need to put me through in any given week. As an aside, I pass the laundry facility there when I visit, and I don't like the smell of it one bit, though it is a genuine institutional laundry smell. Then the perp fuckers played that same laundry smell on me when I was back at my place, in essence, performing the same Unfavored smell in different, a non-hospital setting. Clever, separating the smell from the genuine context/source. And funny how they knew I didn't like the smell as I never mentioned it. When making these visitations to my father at his extended stay facility, I am with my mother and we take him back to the First Feral Family home for a visitation for a few hours. And lo, if she doesn't now pause at the said laundry area looking for missing articles of clothing. Somehow, they go missing when there is identifying sewn-in labels on all my father's, and all other patients' clothing.
2310h
I got sidetracked with email and a very first IM chat with a TI. Some genuine interaction was permitted, and both at the same time, making switching between them an unaccustomed cognitive shift. Anyhow, that is all for today, above rants only.
Monday, May 04, 2009
Knee Pads
2100h
What is it about freaking knees and knee pads that so interests my tormentors? Another hint today was when my mother and I went to Lee Valley Tools' local store opening today, and she insisted that I would need them when doing gardening work at her place. Naturally, there was a bin full of them for less than $4/pair. Just to think I was screwed into getting a pair of knee pads for $55 that fit the knee pockets on my work pants, not used of yet. And last year's daffodil bulb picking work was fraught with extra sensitive knees and I needed a pad for them for all my working days in that capacity. And never mind the Fuckwit gangstalkers in plenty of quantity wearing knee braces. And the three years of hiking I did from 2003 to 2006, there was a misting of water microdrops on my knees and chest (lung) area, and was a highly consistent occurence. And of course there is the knee torquing torture that goes on from time to time, three to five times per month, though I suspect that is a different interest of the perps. And last year I was on the knee pad research for a week or so to deal with the daffodil bulb picking "knee problem", and never did purchase any.
Which begs the question as to what is going to be the summer job, or will there even be one? The daffodil farm is advertising for laborers, and I sent in my resume last week, and now, a week later they are still advertising but didn't contact me at all. I had a good work record there, so I don't know what the deal is. I phoned them today, and they said that they did recieve my resume, but the hiring personnel haven't made their decisions as of yet. Very strange, when it is difficult to get good farm help in the first place. So is this little game about raising the angst and FUD or is it a kiss off in more blatant form? As always, I am the last to know, and it will unfold as scripted.
Other vocational weirdness erupted for the third time over the part time daily cleaning job at the car dealership; the hours were to be changed to a 1800h start and that was the assigned start time. Then today he is on my case because I didn't come in early like I said I would. I never said I would come in early, but I had planned it to do some tar scraping off the tile floor, now under our cleaning mandate, another ersatz change from some months ago. So now, I am to come in at the regular time while he comes in later. Translated, I work longer for the same pay. Given the start time jerkarounds of the past few days, that now makes for three different start times in the last three working days with an additional non-working Sunday in the mix. Again, I have no freaking idea as to why all this bullshit is going on, but suffice to say that having a regular job start time isn't allowed for very long and it is only one more detail that must be fucked with by the Surrepticious Sickos, aka, the SS.
Other mind fuck stunts earlier today was the pressure washing job at my parents' place to remove the moss off their patio. And of course it was an occasion to fuck me royally; making wrong number calls, screwing with my know how on using the phone with a phone list, having me phone my brother twice as to instructions on how to use the pressure washer when it would of been plainly obvious if cognitively unfettered (looking 2' beside it for the high pressure hose, turning on the water supply), and then rage-ifying me over these fucking insane impediments. As always, I have the house to myself when the rage-ification fuckover games begin, and if I hadn't been fucked with I would of known it in advance. The same thing "happens" at my in-town brother's place when he takes off for an errand. As always, I am not allowed to complete the job in one pass as some kind of "unplanned" (read, cognitive dithering and recall depletion) issues arise, and so the job gets postponed to the next day. The deemed impasse to the patio pressure cleaning is that moss and water are flying all over the place and I will need to get my rain gear and also set up tarps to prevent moss over the side of the house.
Back some 15 years ago, I was attempting to clean the moss off a patio and I rented a gasoline powered pressure washer and lo, if the compressor didn't stop working after some five minutes and I could not get it going. I was fucking pissed that the one day I wanted to get this job done I got screwed out of it. Profuse apologies by the rental company and the rest of it, but it was an utter piss off. Now I know why it didn't work; the SS decided that they wanted to abort the activity and fucked the machine operation with their remote manipulations. And here we are, 15 years later and they are still jerking my ass around over pressure washing moss off concrete. How fucking sick and depraved is that and not having the balls to show their face over this insanity? It gets stupider and stupider the more I examine their track record, or more like, am allowed to, as cognitive dithering is now entrenched as an ongoing jerkaround at every moment.
And lo, if there isn't a howling wind on tonight, exactly the same as last Monday. And too, I had a lunch out with my mother last week and today. I had plenty of red colored foods to eat and lo, if there wasn't three identical deep metallic red vehicles afterward leading me in traffic to the next stop, which "happened" to be the store I visited two days ago and got skunked on finding some decent walking shoes. But as it so happened, I was also looking for gumboots as this would aid the pressure washing job and not have my shoes coated in moss particles. I got the gumboots, but the walking shoes weren't to be had in my size so now I will be heading to another branch store to get a pair that were put aside for me.
The perps also had me somewhat pie-eyed again after one pint with a meal with soup. (The perps often go on about planting the term "soup" and I don't know what the deal is). This excessive reaction to one pint of beer also played out last week and it took me most of the afternoon to come off this strange buzz. So perhaps last Monday was a warm up exercise for today. I got plenty of gangstalking at the Lee Valley store, and there was one dayglo raincoated bag that kept hounding me around the store, from the back to near the front where my mother put on some delaying tactics. Other fuglies were red hair, bald heads and big hats. A few yellow dressed Fuckwit tandem cyclists were also hounding me there. Later on, when looking at shoes and gumboots, I got the large women, the working dudes and plain, if not, ugly women doing their loitering in my presence. But as I was being kept relatively "unperceptive", aka pie-eyed, they seemed to have lowered my reaction threshold some. I did not have the usual "reactions", which have been managed for over three years now. These seeming visceral "reactions" to the Unfavored (fuglies mostly), never happened before, so it is rather interesting that they came on for over three years, and can now be selectively turned off. Or was it the pie-eyed state? One cannot be sure of one's own mind in this constant and insane jerkaround that presses on, redefining abuse by another order of magnitude.
Other slightly bizarre action was discovering a plastic gift card in my wallet when at Lee Valley Tools and looking for my customer card. This enabled me to get the gumboots with $10 back in cash no less. My mother made some oblique reference as to how I got the gift card, which translated, means me assuming it was planted there as I had no freaking idea. It wouldn't be the first time that my wallet had unexpected arrivals or disappearences. My WA state driver's licence disappeared from my wallet overnight back in the intense abuse days of 2002. One is not supposed to have two driver licences from differing jurisdictions in North America, and I did. That was very law abiding of the SS to "clear that up", and keeping me in check as a lawful citizen, especially from an organization that operates illegally in western democracies every instant of their existence. More likely, it was the plastic that was pissing them off, and for once they decided not to steal my wallet, as this was getting to be an every two year "occurence". Though they did steal the wallet later as they didn't want me to have both US and Canadian cash at the same time.
I have blogged on wallet contents in the past and how they seem to be so important to the perps, and it was interesting that they also introduced another round of additions and depletions. There was the aforementioned gift card that I "discovered" today, and I got two blue colored $5 bills back from using the gift certificate, and I recieved a yellow colored check from my mother today, just like last Monday, so I can only assume this is all scripted and the check will stay in place until the assholes decide that whatever color energies it might confer can be detected and modelled. Mondays are big days for yellow color games, and they are always coincident with the fact that I don't take my yellow colored pills today. (A tricyclic). So I was not too surprised to see a woman in a large yellow raincoat that was flapping open to the breezes gangstalking me outside the supermarket tonight after the cleaning job. And too, I shouldn't of been too surprised to see a banana stalker carrying his "fruit prop" outside the same supermarket when I was about to enter.
Anyhow, I sense this posting is a little scrambled tonight, but one can be sure it isn't me that isn't doing this out of character blog posting. And the typo sabotage has been outrageous tonight, so I hope that I have caught them all. And of note, I have also discovered that the perps are now messing with these blog postings directly and messing up what I typed. Another breach of their imposed boundaries.
This one is done for the day, and maybe I will get to post it, unlike last week when I got faked out into thinking two posting were published when they were not. All to drive my readership scatty, whoever you are. (The Google Analytics aren't working properly and I have no way of knowing what my readership is; all part of the FUD world I am kept in).
What is it about freaking knees and knee pads that so interests my tormentors? Another hint today was when my mother and I went to Lee Valley Tools' local store opening today, and she insisted that I would need them when doing gardening work at her place. Naturally, there was a bin full of them for less than $4/pair. Just to think I was screwed into getting a pair of knee pads for $55 that fit the knee pockets on my work pants, not used of yet. And last year's daffodil bulb picking work was fraught with extra sensitive knees and I needed a pad for them for all my working days in that capacity. And never mind the Fuckwit gangstalkers in plenty of quantity wearing knee braces. And the three years of hiking I did from 2003 to 2006, there was a misting of water microdrops on my knees and chest (lung) area, and was a highly consistent occurence. And of course there is the knee torquing torture that goes on from time to time, three to five times per month, though I suspect that is a different interest of the perps. And last year I was on the knee pad research for a week or so to deal with the daffodil bulb picking "knee problem", and never did purchase any.
Which begs the question as to what is going to be the summer job, or will there even be one? The daffodil farm is advertising for laborers, and I sent in my resume last week, and now, a week later they are still advertising but didn't contact me at all. I had a good work record there, so I don't know what the deal is. I phoned them today, and they said that they did recieve my resume, but the hiring personnel haven't made their decisions as of yet. Very strange, when it is difficult to get good farm help in the first place. So is this little game about raising the angst and FUD or is it a kiss off in more blatant form? As always, I am the last to know, and it will unfold as scripted.
Other vocational weirdness erupted for the third time over the part time daily cleaning job at the car dealership; the hours were to be changed to a 1800h start and that was the assigned start time. Then today he is on my case because I didn't come in early like I said I would. I never said I would come in early, but I had planned it to do some tar scraping off the tile floor, now under our cleaning mandate, another ersatz change from some months ago. So now, I am to come in at the regular time while he comes in later. Translated, I work longer for the same pay. Given the start time jerkarounds of the past few days, that now makes for three different start times in the last three working days with an additional non-working Sunday in the mix. Again, I have no freaking idea as to why all this bullshit is going on, but suffice to say that having a regular job start time isn't allowed for very long and it is only one more detail that must be fucked with by the Surrepticious Sickos, aka, the SS.
Other mind fuck stunts earlier today was the pressure washing job at my parents' place to remove the moss off their patio. And of course it was an occasion to fuck me royally; making wrong number calls, screwing with my know how on using the phone with a phone list, having me phone my brother twice as to instructions on how to use the pressure washer when it would of been plainly obvious if cognitively unfettered (looking 2' beside it for the high pressure hose, turning on the water supply), and then rage-ifying me over these fucking insane impediments. As always, I have the house to myself when the rage-ification fuckover games begin, and if I hadn't been fucked with I would of known it in advance. The same thing "happens" at my in-town brother's place when he takes off for an errand. As always, I am not allowed to complete the job in one pass as some kind of "unplanned" (read, cognitive dithering and recall depletion) issues arise, and so the job gets postponed to the next day. The deemed impasse to the patio pressure cleaning is that moss and water are flying all over the place and I will need to get my rain gear and also set up tarps to prevent moss over the side of the house.
Back some 15 years ago, I was attempting to clean the moss off a patio and I rented a gasoline powered pressure washer and lo, if the compressor didn't stop working after some five minutes and I could not get it going. I was fucking pissed that the one day I wanted to get this job done I got screwed out of it. Profuse apologies by the rental company and the rest of it, but it was an utter piss off. Now I know why it didn't work; the SS decided that they wanted to abort the activity and fucked the machine operation with their remote manipulations. And here we are, 15 years later and they are still jerking my ass around over pressure washing moss off concrete. How fucking sick and depraved is that and not having the balls to show their face over this insanity? It gets stupider and stupider the more I examine their track record, or more like, am allowed to, as cognitive dithering is now entrenched as an ongoing jerkaround at every moment.
And lo, if there isn't a howling wind on tonight, exactly the same as last Monday. And too, I had a lunch out with my mother last week and today. I had plenty of red colored foods to eat and lo, if there wasn't three identical deep metallic red vehicles afterward leading me in traffic to the next stop, which "happened" to be the store I visited two days ago and got skunked on finding some decent walking shoes. But as it so happened, I was also looking for gumboots as this would aid the pressure washing job and not have my shoes coated in moss particles. I got the gumboots, but the walking shoes weren't to be had in my size so now I will be heading to another branch store to get a pair that were put aside for me.
The perps also had me somewhat pie-eyed again after one pint with a meal with soup. (The perps often go on about planting the term "soup" and I don't know what the deal is). This excessive reaction to one pint of beer also played out last week and it took me most of the afternoon to come off this strange buzz. So perhaps last Monday was a warm up exercise for today. I got plenty of gangstalking at the Lee Valley store, and there was one dayglo raincoated bag that kept hounding me around the store, from the back to near the front where my mother put on some delaying tactics. Other fuglies were red hair, bald heads and big hats. A few yellow dressed Fuckwit tandem cyclists were also hounding me there. Later on, when looking at shoes and gumboots, I got the large women, the working dudes and plain, if not, ugly women doing their loitering in my presence. But as I was being kept relatively "unperceptive", aka pie-eyed, they seemed to have lowered my reaction threshold some. I did not have the usual "reactions", which have been managed for over three years now. These seeming visceral "reactions" to the Unfavored (fuglies mostly), never happened before, so it is rather interesting that they came on for over three years, and can now be selectively turned off. Or was it the pie-eyed state? One cannot be sure of one's own mind in this constant and insane jerkaround that presses on, redefining abuse by another order of magnitude.
Other slightly bizarre action was discovering a plastic gift card in my wallet when at Lee Valley Tools and looking for my customer card. This enabled me to get the gumboots with $10 back in cash no less. My mother made some oblique reference as to how I got the gift card, which translated, means me assuming it was planted there as I had no freaking idea. It wouldn't be the first time that my wallet had unexpected arrivals or disappearences. My WA state driver's licence disappeared from my wallet overnight back in the intense abuse days of 2002. One is not supposed to have two driver licences from differing jurisdictions in North America, and I did. That was very law abiding of the SS to "clear that up", and keeping me in check as a lawful citizen, especially from an organization that operates illegally in western democracies every instant of their existence. More likely, it was the plastic that was pissing them off, and for once they decided not to steal my wallet, as this was getting to be an every two year "occurence". Though they did steal the wallet later as they didn't want me to have both US and Canadian cash at the same time.
I have blogged on wallet contents in the past and how they seem to be so important to the perps, and it was interesting that they also introduced another round of additions and depletions. There was the aforementioned gift card that I "discovered" today, and I got two blue colored $5 bills back from using the gift certificate, and I recieved a yellow colored check from my mother today, just like last Monday, so I can only assume this is all scripted and the check will stay in place until the assholes decide that whatever color energies it might confer can be detected and modelled. Mondays are big days for yellow color games, and they are always coincident with the fact that I don't take my yellow colored pills today. (A tricyclic). So I was not too surprised to see a woman in a large yellow raincoat that was flapping open to the breezes gangstalking me outside the supermarket tonight after the cleaning job. And too, I shouldn't of been too surprised to see a banana stalker carrying his "fruit prop" outside the same supermarket when I was about to enter.
Anyhow, I sense this posting is a little scrambled tonight, but one can be sure it isn't me that isn't doing this out of character blog posting. And the typo sabotage has been outrageous tonight, so I hope that I have caught them all. And of note, I have also discovered that the perps are now messing with these blog postings directly and messing up what I typed. Another breach of their imposed boundaries.
This one is done for the day, and maybe I will get to post it, unlike last week when I got faked out into thinking two posting were published when they were not. All to drive my readership scatty, whoever you are. (The Google Analytics aren't working properly and I have no way of knowing what my readership is; all part of the FUD world I am kept in).
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Onto More Suck Jobs
1650h
Another vacuum cleaning has just erupted in the hallway outside my door. These hallways are rarely cleaned, and so it is a mystery as to why two cleanings in two days. Regular readers will know that vacumming cleaning activity has a very high likelihood of "erupting" anywhere I am, and it would seem in this pre-dinner and pre-dusk time frame that they are putting on a big suck job. And why are vacuuming jobs so frequently scheduled where I am? I have no set theory, except to note that many advanced thinking physicists refer to the ether as being full of "torsional energies", and hence, something that localizes some torsional disruption is a good thing if you spend the time to investigate these in the proximity of a victim you are presecuting. That is, if you are a perp/depravee/abuser of course.
I also suspect that the perps gain some benefit of having coils of electrical wire around me, and all the better that it is wrapped up in a yellow plastic jacket it would seem. The outside cleaning is still going on, and just no cleaning activity, say, movement of the suctioning hose or of the vacuum cleaner itself. Nothing new there of course.
It was a yoga day today, and I had my usual elevator and street accompaniment. The dude in the elevator did a little sideways head cock as he saw me approaching the elevator doorway, and also had a big grin on his face. I thought he was trying too hard to put on the subtle nutzo act, though I was assured that he wasn't the only one as it turned out. I had a full block running gangstalker, in city wear, and then he stopped immediately on the other side of the crosswalk, and then walked across it at the signal. I thought it odd that he was running for no seeming reason, and that the crosswalk "somehow" caused him to slow his pace. These running fuckwits have been increasing of late, and given that the perps are on a green color binge of late, I suppose it was no surprise that this gangstalker was also dressed in green.
As part of the walk, I had my weekly run-at-me stunt while on the crosswalk, the gangstalking routine where they are making a left turn and "need" to get their vehicle as close to me as possible, and so they block the oncoming traffic, (illegal) and then rev their engine and drive up to the crosswalk and sit and wait in the intersection until I am out of the way (usually). My understanding of the traffic rules is that one is not to drive on the crosswalk at all if there are pedestrians on it. Anyhow, I get one of these a week in this town, and I never had anyone doing this anywhere I have lived, and especially here until the overt harassment started up, then all kinds of strange and highly coordinated driving stunts erupted.
The yoga class was moved on me, again without prior notice, and seemingly to have me walk the length of the building to then call in at the desk and find out where it was. All other class relocations get notices on the wall, but "somehow" the yoga class does not. And of course I won't get into detail as to how the perps like to have paper notices pinned on the walls, especially if there is a message inked in with a felt pen. Nor will I detail the fact that these pieces of paper always flutter as I go by, and are seemingly extra kinetic.
By way of the re-location of the classroom jerkaround mentioned above, the perps somehow arranged for me to late for yoga, though I suspect there was some other fuckery with my watch as part of it. I hate being late for anything, and that might be because they often had my parents as latecomers to events, and it plain pissed me off then, and still does. And, another party knows this, and incorporates this into the harassment games, and thereby ensures that my choices where I sit are limited. In this case it isn't a big deal, as there was enough room for all, but it was interesting that the one place that remained was next to the piano, the same configuration that was arranged in the earlier room. Anyhow, not a big deal, and I had some relative freedom in a public space, save the masers and plasma beams flitting about all the time, and some crumb generation fuckery as well. (The crumbs "arrive" from nowhere it would seem, either as greyscale colors or brown ones).
And what does the dishy yoga instructor start out with while I am unfurling my mat; she says she would like to talk about "mind control", a quieting of the mind while doing meditative yoga she elaborated. That she uttered those words with interspersed faux throat clearing noise was also scripted IMHO. I thought it interesting that the term came up, and it would seem that there must some advantage/objective the assholes need to evaluate me for. Not unlike eating your own dogfood, a Microsoft expression used to apply to in-house software developers that must use Microsoft software in the course of their software development duties. So it would seem that the perp assholes need me to hear the term "mind control" (what they are doing to me), as well as write about it in this here blog posting.
1840h
What could the harassment excitement be now? I identify extra noise barrages as the moments that the perps are most interested in, along with any other phenomenon like plasma beams, "coincidences", transitory vision impairments, typo sabotage etc. What I had been doing was reading another TI's blog where she rightfully corrected me in making a comment. As a consequence I replied, and then later reflected as to how I got it wrong, which must be the same reason I now get so many seeming facts "wrong"; that there is a mind dithering third party that likes me to get it totally wrong, and then get it in the ear from an aggrieved party. No wonder the overhead rumbling noise started up as I read the reply to my initiating comment. I must refrain from making blog posting comments on other TI's sites, as I have been burned by this same stunt as before. The perps are very interested in the TI to TI communication, and I had better stop now as the overhead noise is getting too predominant, along with the string of "motorcycle moments" from outside (loud motorcycles or the sound thereof).
Or could the current noise flurries be over the fact that this is the post-dinner digestion period, and as I had some new food in my diet, it just might be the thing that excites the small minds that continue to plague me. I had a peach after dinner, one of the five that I bought when on an excursion last week, purchased at a fruit stand. The perps created my "allergic reactions" to peaches at least 12 years ago and I have been hesitant to eat them ever since. But lo, if we didn't buy a whole case of them for my brother last year when doing the same junket in the same regions, and after eating one, no "allergic reaction". So, I bought a small quantity last week and am eating them at lunch and dinner. This too, might signal perp progress as to determining why I don't like the color yellow, as it would seem that eating yellow colored pills once per day for six years isn't enough. And I did not take any yellow pills last week because of a forced "forget", so this "yellow pill intake onset" period just might be all too exciting for the perps, especially when arranged with yellow fruit consumption. Not my problem; so why do I have a phalanx of fuckwits around me parading yellow colors? If I only knew how complicated my life was and why. But that will be at least two years away by my estimate of the associated fuckery (noises, vision impairments, plasma and maser flashes) and my coincident action at the moment; attention shifting, thoughts, deeds, or the instant I see an Unfavored demographic subpopulation member.
One incident at yoga today indicated that I was being monitored for seeing Unfavored sights; a curly haired reddish brown dyed hair woman was bowed over in her yoga pose, and the instant my attention was (needlessly) directed to see the top of her head, a noise went off. She is a genuinely nice person, and hasn't been anywhere as aggressive as other gangstalkers, but her hair has this horrible reddish glow to it, what I surmise is from hair dye. Once she even combed her hair down with a gel so it was close to her scalp (no apparent curls) and darkened, and she told me about meeting Andy Warhol at a party in Denver. I thought her story was interesting, and could readily surmise why her face caught the attention of Andy Warhol. Anyhow, I suppose this was a perp arrangement to separate her look from her normal hair style and color, and extend the engagement time with a conversation, one of perps long-observed games of incrementally reducing the look of the Unfavored characteristics on otherwise Favored individuals.
2045h
The evening teatime has ended; the perps seem to have made this new "need" a daily item as they have upped the brown food consumption once more. There is nothing that pisses me off more about the perps imposed diet than eating 200g to 300g of chocolate everyday for some reckless fuckwits who traumatized me over the color of brown in my developmental years (seemingly), and now this subconscious association appears to be a problem for them. Not only that, but this imposed chocolate "habit" costs me $200/month when I am on a fixed income disability, thanks to the same assholes. There was a few weeks in late 2002 that they had me turned off chocolate so much that I could not stand the smell of it; since then, it is a "must have". There are other color traumatization associations, red, yellow, orange and purple, and again, I have no recall as to how this occured. Though it would seem that another party knows more about this than I do, hence all this beserk color arrangements around me, never mind the pounding of the ceiling through 12" of concrete overhead as I write this.
Now the hot rod noises have started up, and then a stinging pain in the head, so obviously I have thought of something the assholes did not plant, hence this applied vigor in "stimulating" me through directed pain.
And I am being made to be especially annoyed tonight, as it may seem that I will be forced to resign from being a Professional Forester. I have been on a leave of absence for three years now, and I found out for the first time that this was the maximum permitted duration. The story keeps changing of course, and this too might come to pass. But as the perps like their victims to experience dissolution of their professional and personal associations, I would not be surprised to find that the perps desired outcome is to force my resignation. Surely they had this one planned long ago, and I will see what happens. If I get to take a baseball bat to any perp, the one who scripted this piece of fuckery will immediately follow the fate of the sick motherfucker who planned the electromagnetic beam hunting and attacks in Seattle in 2002.
I have learned of another TI who makes the harassment activities plain, and has a number of stories to tell about it. I don't know much about her, but it would only be fair to give a TI some "air time" on this blog about covert harassment and experimentation. Her name is Suz LaBoeuf, and she even approached her Congressman, Rep. Dennis Kucinich, normally a champion of the trodden upon, and he walked away from her. Surely an interesting tale, especially that he must of known something about the issue in advance, and yet wouldn't touch it. Normally one is first curious as to a new issue, and then decides what to do.
Though I have had the odd politician gangstalker, pimping themselves in my proximity more than past frequencies, they seem to know what to do. Some have been lowly backbenchers in the opposition, and I suppose I could count shaking hands with the Prime Minister in about 1994 when there was an election. All of course unprovable, but it does seem odd to me that there have been more politicians in my orbit since overt harassment began in 04-2002.
2200h
Overhead hammering and pounding has erupted while I am reading about the Bush family here. There aree some fascinating tales that I was unaware of, but it does make me wonder what my tormentors association is such that mere reading is noisestalked so obviously.
2235h
More reading about the Bush family fortunes, though I do not profess to understand all of it as it is so Byzantine. Enough of a dull day, and time to call this one done and ponder what annoying dreams I will be subject to.
Another vacuum cleaning has just erupted in the hallway outside my door. These hallways are rarely cleaned, and so it is a mystery as to why two cleanings in two days. Regular readers will know that vacumming cleaning activity has a very high likelihood of "erupting" anywhere I am, and it would seem in this pre-dinner and pre-dusk time frame that they are putting on a big suck job. And why are vacuuming jobs so frequently scheduled where I am? I have no set theory, except to note that many advanced thinking physicists refer to the ether as being full of "torsional energies", and hence, something that localizes some torsional disruption is a good thing if you spend the time to investigate these in the proximity of a victim you are presecuting. That is, if you are a perp/depravee/abuser of course.
I also suspect that the perps gain some benefit of having coils of electrical wire around me, and all the better that it is wrapped up in a yellow plastic jacket it would seem. The outside cleaning is still going on, and just no cleaning activity, say, movement of the suctioning hose or of the vacuum cleaner itself. Nothing new there of course.
It was a yoga day today, and I had my usual elevator and street accompaniment. The dude in the elevator did a little sideways head cock as he saw me approaching the elevator doorway, and also had a big grin on his face. I thought he was trying too hard to put on the subtle nutzo act, though I was assured that he wasn't the only one as it turned out. I had a full block running gangstalker, in city wear, and then he stopped immediately on the other side of the crosswalk, and then walked across it at the signal. I thought it odd that he was running for no seeming reason, and that the crosswalk "somehow" caused him to slow his pace. These running fuckwits have been increasing of late, and given that the perps are on a green color binge of late, I suppose it was no surprise that this gangstalker was also dressed in green.
As part of the walk, I had my weekly run-at-me stunt while on the crosswalk, the gangstalking routine where they are making a left turn and "need" to get their vehicle as close to me as possible, and so they block the oncoming traffic, (illegal) and then rev their engine and drive up to the crosswalk and sit and wait in the intersection until I am out of the way (usually). My understanding of the traffic rules is that one is not to drive on the crosswalk at all if there are pedestrians on it. Anyhow, I get one of these a week in this town, and I never had anyone doing this anywhere I have lived, and especially here until the overt harassment started up, then all kinds of strange and highly coordinated driving stunts erupted.
The yoga class was moved on me, again without prior notice, and seemingly to have me walk the length of the building to then call in at the desk and find out where it was. All other class relocations get notices on the wall, but "somehow" the yoga class does not. And of course I won't get into detail as to how the perps like to have paper notices pinned on the walls, especially if there is a message inked in with a felt pen. Nor will I detail the fact that these pieces of paper always flutter as I go by, and are seemingly extra kinetic.
By way of the re-location of the classroom jerkaround mentioned above, the perps somehow arranged for me to late for yoga, though I suspect there was some other fuckery with my watch as part of it. I hate being late for anything, and that might be because they often had my parents as latecomers to events, and it plain pissed me off then, and still does. And, another party knows this, and incorporates this into the harassment games, and thereby ensures that my choices where I sit are limited. In this case it isn't a big deal, as there was enough room for all, but it was interesting that the one place that remained was next to the piano, the same configuration that was arranged in the earlier room. Anyhow, not a big deal, and I had some relative freedom in a public space, save the masers and plasma beams flitting about all the time, and some crumb generation fuckery as well. (The crumbs "arrive" from nowhere it would seem, either as greyscale colors or brown ones).
And what does the dishy yoga instructor start out with while I am unfurling my mat; she says she would like to talk about "mind control", a quieting of the mind while doing meditative yoga she elaborated. That she uttered those words with interspersed faux throat clearing noise was also scripted IMHO. I thought it interesting that the term came up, and it would seem that there must some advantage/objective the assholes need to evaluate me for. Not unlike eating your own dogfood, a Microsoft expression used to apply to in-house software developers that must use Microsoft software in the course of their software development duties. So it would seem that the perp assholes need me to hear the term "mind control" (what they are doing to me), as well as write about it in this here blog posting.
1840h
What could the harassment excitement be now? I identify extra noise barrages as the moments that the perps are most interested in, along with any other phenomenon like plasma beams, "coincidences", transitory vision impairments, typo sabotage etc. What I had been doing was reading another TI's blog where she rightfully corrected me in making a comment. As a consequence I replied, and then later reflected as to how I got it wrong, which must be the same reason I now get so many seeming facts "wrong"; that there is a mind dithering third party that likes me to get it totally wrong, and then get it in the ear from an aggrieved party. No wonder the overhead rumbling noise started up as I read the reply to my initiating comment. I must refrain from making blog posting comments on other TI's sites, as I have been burned by this same stunt as before. The perps are very interested in the TI to TI communication, and I had better stop now as the overhead noise is getting too predominant, along with the string of "motorcycle moments" from outside (loud motorcycles or the sound thereof).
Or could the current noise flurries be over the fact that this is the post-dinner digestion period, and as I had some new food in my diet, it just might be the thing that excites the small minds that continue to plague me. I had a peach after dinner, one of the five that I bought when on an excursion last week, purchased at a fruit stand. The perps created my "allergic reactions" to peaches at least 12 years ago and I have been hesitant to eat them ever since. But lo, if we didn't buy a whole case of them for my brother last year when doing the same junket in the same regions, and after eating one, no "allergic reaction". So, I bought a small quantity last week and am eating them at lunch and dinner. This too, might signal perp progress as to determining why I don't like the color yellow, as it would seem that eating yellow colored pills once per day for six years isn't enough. And I did not take any yellow pills last week because of a forced "forget", so this "yellow pill intake onset" period just might be all too exciting for the perps, especially when arranged with yellow fruit consumption. Not my problem; so why do I have a phalanx of fuckwits around me parading yellow colors? If I only knew how complicated my life was and why. But that will be at least two years away by my estimate of the associated fuckery (noises, vision impairments, plasma and maser flashes) and my coincident action at the moment; attention shifting, thoughts, deeds, or the instant I see an Unfavored demographic subpopulation member.
One incident at yoga today indicated that I was being monitored for seeing Unfavored sights; a curly haired reddish brown dyed hair woman was bowed over in her yoga pose, and the instant my attention was (needlessly) directed to see the top of her head, a noise went off. She is a genuinely nice person, and hasn't been anywhere as aggressive as other gangstalkers, but her hair has this horrible reddish glow to it, what I surmise is from hair dye. Once she even combed her hair down with a gel so it was close to her scalp (no apparent curls) and darkened, and she told me about meeting Andy Warhol at a party in Denver. I thought her story was interesting, and could readily surmise why her face caught the attention of Andy Warhol. Anyhow, I suppose this was a perp arrangement to separate her look from her normal hair style and color, and extend the engagement time with a conversation, one of perps long-observed games of incrementally reducing the look of the Unfavored characteristics on otherwise Favored individuals.
2045h
The evening teatime has ended; the perps seem to have made this new "need" a daily item as they have upped the brown food consumption once more. There is nothing that pisses me off more about the perps imposed diet than eating 200g to 300g of chocolate everyday for some reckless fuckwits who traumatized me over the color of brown in my developmental years (seemingly), and now this subconscious association appears to be a problem for them. Not only that, but this imposed chocolate "habit" costs me $200/month when I am on a fixed income disability, thanks to the same assholes. There was a few weeks in late 2002 that they had me turned off chocolate so much that I could not stand the smell of it; since then, it is a "must have". There are other color traumatization associations, red, yellow, orange and purple, and again, I have no recall as to how this occured. Though it would seem that another party knows more about this than I do, hence all this beserk color arrangements around me, never mind the pounding of the ceiling through 12" of concrete overhead as I write this.
Now the hot rod noises have started up, and then a stinging pain in the head, so obviously I have thought of something the assholes did not plant, hence this applied vigor in "stimulating" me through directed pain.
And I am being made to be especially annoyed tonight, as it may seem that I will be forced to resign from being a Professional Forester. I have been on a leave of absence for three years now, and I found out for the first time that this was the maximum permitted duration. The story keeps changing of course, and this too might come to pass. But as the perps like their victims to experience dissolution of their professional and personal associations, I would not be surprised to find that the perps desired outcome is to force my resignation. Surely they had this one planned long ago, and I will see what happens. If I get to take a baseball bat to any perp, the one who scripted this piece of fuckery will immediately follow the fate of the sick motherfucker who planned the electromagnetic beam hunting and attacks in Seattle in 2002.
I have learned of another TI who makes the harassment activities plain, and has a number of stories to tell about it. I don't know much about her, but it would only be fair to give a TI some "air time" on this blog about covert harassment and experimentation. Her name is Suz LaBoeuf, and she even approached her Congressman, Rep. Dennis Kucinich, normally a champion of the trodden upon, and he walked away from her. Surely an interesting tale, especially that he must of known something about the issue in advance, and yet wouldn't touch it. Normally one is first curious as to a new issue, and then decides what to do.
Though I have had the odd politician gangstalker, pimping themselves in my proximity more than past frequencies, they seem to know what to do. Some have been lowly backbenchers in the opposition, and I suppose I could count shaking hands with the Prime Minister in about 1994 when there was an election. All of course unprovable, but it does seem odd to me that there have been more politicians in my orbit since overt harassment began in 04-2002.
2200h
Overhead hammering and pounding has erupted while I am reading about the Bush family here. There aree some fascinating tales that I was unaware of, but it does make me wonder what my tormentors association is such that mere reading is noisestalked so obviously.
2235h
More reading about the Bush family fortunes, though I do not profess to understand all of it as it is so Byzantine. Enough of a dull day, and time to call this one done and ponder what annoying dreams I will be subject to.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
More Rx Games
1400h
Today's visit to the pharmacy was a near identical repeat of yesterday. I was allowed access to my recall eventually, and "discovered" that I had the prescription still, and not the pharmacy, and could take it back to LD with the doctor's card so it could be faxed to the new doctor. Having been woken up later so the time of visitation was about the same of yesterday, I duly went to LD and lo, if my loitering weirds weren't in line for prescription filling like yesterday. And get this, one avocado green coated woman was packing a 12 pack of Diet Coke, that ever portable means of having a brown colored substance in metal cans. Regular readers will know that the perps have an obsession with the color brown and planting it in my proximity, and the use of cola drinks is another very common orchestrated activity. (As is planting the Coca Cola delivery truck along my walking route, often of no apparent business reason).
And the line did move slowly so a female gangstalker dressed in brown could arrive behind me, and she made sure that I saw her greenish tatoo at her neck, and it had the same shape as that of her hair that was hanging over her cheek some 2" away. About three minutes later I looked behind me and she was gone, but instead I got a withered granny in dyed yellow frizzy hair applying her kleenex to her face, also dressed in brown. When I finally got served, after some advance blonde patrolling by one of the pharmacy staff in her white coat, I got the same brown skinned woman as yesterday, which wasn't too much of a (legitimate) surprise, two weekdays in succession. After she made about five misinterpretations as to what I said, what the doctor's business card said, and the Rx frequency, she volunteered to give me a prescription for my medications for today and tomorrow, a two day prescription to "tide me over". Not that I needed it as I have found the medications to be ineffectual, and they appear to serve the yellow color games that abound any day I don't take it, usually Monday mornings when I "forget" when staying over at my parent's place the night before. (The medication is a yellow and white colored capsule and a white pill).
Anyhow, I wasn't quite done yet, as the pharmacy tech vacated her chair to make up the prescriptions, and then the parade of white coated pharmacy techs really got going, passing in front of the chair, and behind the woman who was making up my prescriptions. And at one point, the perps spun the chair about 12" and moved the phone cord while a pharmacy tech passed by, BUT without contacting the chair in any way. In other words, more blatant displays of applied unconventional forces from a remote location with total observance of all proximate objects and parties. And while this wait period was scripted, the Diet Coke packing "customer" then decided to sit behind me, 90 degrees offset, under the cover story of waiting for her prescription to be ready. Call it portable brown substance referencing, moving around me with a case of Diet Coke, the on-street equivalent of the Coca Cola delivery truck loitering around on my walking traverses. The prescription was filled in short order, and then I was "compelled" (read, mind-controlled) to acquire more chocolate bars after yesterday's theft/jerkaround of having it "disappear" off the checkout conveyor belt, and I was also "compelled" to get Cadbury's Creme Eggs, those chocolate eggs with a sweet white and yellow goo inside. Ergo, yellow Rx pills, and then yellow filling of chocolate eggs with bar chocolate as well. A perfect yellow-brown color interaction setup. After passing by the excess of shiftless males in shades outside (cloudy day), when I got back to my apartment there was a woman of about the same build and with the identical avocado jacket standing around, but no case of Diet Coke with her. Then the perps planted the notion of going to my mail box, but lo, if there wasn't a red fleece jacketed gangstalker hanging over top of where my mailbox was, checking his mail (seemingly). Then back to my place with no weirds in the elevator waiting for me, or at the elevator doorway to my floor. Sometimes, it does get to be like normal, but never for long.
That was the story of my big outing today, and just might well be it for the day. Anyhow, hopefully the above story supplies some degree of detail as to how tightly my life is managed, and how weird it can be from all quarters.
1540h
I had my tea and chocolate break, this time eating the Cadbury's Creme Eggs, something I wasn't allowed to do for the past weeks. The perps had me eat this source of chocolate in addition to the regular 100g bar they have me eat then. Small differences are under constant scrutiny, and the variances are one way to notice what the perps are working on; i.e., what is important for their small minds.
Like yesterday's post tea and chocolate period, I am getting a succession of loud mufflered vehicles from outside, some being the most hated Harley Davidson motorcycle noise, the chopped variety. As before, there isn't a bikers bar within five miles, and yet they seem to converge in this neighborhood. And if a motorcycle does arrive, it makes a turn into the parking lot opposite and sits in the driveway for 30 seconds with its engine idling. And it has done this both times since it began. And 10 minutes later when I look outside expecting to see it parked, it is gone, just "somehow" silently departing.
And after investigating as to why my victim's story got online, I found it online at MindcontrolForums, under a new and mispelled name, and not replacing my existing story. Funny how all those disconnects happened, thinking all the time that it was never posted because the site's webmaster never contacted me. I supplied a html file as well, but the .doc file was put on the web. Anyhow, it is all very confusing, and I will put a reference in on the template to the right. In other words, the old version of my story is here, and the update I submittted but didn't know about is here (doc format, 41 pp.). True to form, I get my browser frozen up when I am attempting to visit this website's home page.
A round of motorcycle noise, hallway clatter and outside pounding noise has just erupted in concert with my displaying this page in editable after navigating back from the blog version after the template fix over which of the above stories is which. Such things are of great interest to my mind-keepers, and they have consistently hounded me over creating links, linking to other websites, copying links and anything else to do with them. In the early days, when investigating countermeasures, the perps put on the infamous (to me) kerchunk sound every link/mouseclick that I made and/or bookmarked for over 40 minutes. When they had enough, they unloaded this throbbing pain in my head to force me to finish. Such is how they dealt with me then, and the attitude or gratitude hasn't changed a bit since then. This same kerchunk sound from my "neighbors" has followed me over seven residences since 2002.
I am also getting my email constrained, or it is being managed to look like it, not even the spammers are sending me anything. Nothing for over two days; most curious.
1915h
I am attempting to access The Edge radio tonight as I maybe the guest on Gina Romano's spot on Wednesday. But lo, if my access to this site is restricted and I am not even allowed to find the schedule for tonight. It is fucking annoying to be shut out all the time, especially when the perps likely planted the notion for me to look. It is the same deal as the above mentioned post box gangstalking.
Here is a link to someone who feels the degree of private security personnel is getting out of hand, and that they are used too often and give the impression of living in a police state. This story , Someone's Always Watching Me, could of been planted for me to read, as it is the predominant thought in my life, and my mind-keepers like me to know this all the time. The associated graphic with the back of a lime yellow dayglo jacket brings back plenty of reminders, as the perps like to station their ambulatory operatives wearing this same color of garment. They even have the "parking enforcement" dudes wandering around in this same dayglo color garb, and they also have an alternate navy blue uniform as well. And lo, if they don't put them walking in pairs, the dayglo and the navy blue uniformed "parking enforcement" dudes as a side by side twosome. I had never seen any parking enforcement personnel walking in pairs until the harassment began. Regular readers will also recall that the public street works projects that seem to "erupt" on my walking beats also have a surfeit of "flag people" dressed in dayglo outfits, and one is usually kept in my view from my desk during the daytime, 400' away, conducting pedestrians no doubt.
2100h
Wall tapping has "erupted" as if from one of my putative "neighbors", going through yet another round of picture hanging. This would be about their sixth time in the 10 months I have lived here. It is likely the cover story so the perps can slam the shared wall some.
2125h
Another rant at the perps while they blocked my right click list from displaying, some 4 clicks in succession. All to have me rant at them using the same stock words each time. This is what they were screwing me over, the fate of those who dare investigate the CIA, UK top cop who led CIA probe found dead. They even come to get you if you reside in a location other than the US. This person "fell" off a steep incline while hiking. As one who has experienced the intensified harassment of those playing with action at a distance technologies, I can personally vouch for the fact that there could of been two ways to making taking a hike an deathly experience. They can mentally dither one to take the wrong trail or route, dither with recall and awareness and even have them "happily" step off a cliff edge. This could also be combined with the thickest fog one will ever experience to aid in the "confusion" that was created. A no-big-deal event for the sickos to arrange as retribution, and they aren't making any bones about it from a statistical likelihood perspective.
2240h
The tapping noise slowly tailed off, and now the concrete pounding noise from above has started up in its place. The overhead pounding and coincident zapping abuse hasn't been applied in the past week, maybe the perps are over that particular torture. I wonder what it is about, zapping me. Perhaps it is the low volt version of being tasered, something that is happening with increasing frequency all over North America. A past blog has my ruminations on this topic. For the record, I am being kept in a densified magnetic field, it was 200 Gauss in late 2002, and I cannot imagine what it is now, as there is so much plasma and maser action in my vision, both being magnetically controlled phenomenon.
Today's visit to the pharmacy was a near identical repeat of yesterday. I was allowed access to my recall eventually, and "discovered" that I had the prescription still, and not the pharmacy, and could take it back to LD with the doctor's card so it could be faxed to the new doctor. Having been woken up later so the time of visitation was about the same of yesterday, I duly went to LD and lo, if my loitering weirds weren't in line for prescription filling like yesterday. And get this, one avocado green coated woman was packing a 12 pack of Diet Coke, that ever portable means of having a brown colored substance in metal cans. Regular readers will know that the perps have an obsession with the color brown and planting it in my proximity, and the use of cola drinks is another very common orchestrated activity. (As is planting the Coca Cola delivery truck along my walking route, often of no apparent business reason).
And the line did move slowly so a female gangstalker dressed in brown could arrive behind me, and she made sure that I saw her greenish tatoo at her neck, and it had the same shape as that of her hair that was hanging over her cheek some 2" away. About three minutes later I looked behind me and she was gone, but instead I got a withered granny in dyed yellow frizzy hair applying her kleenex to her face, also dressed in brown. When I finally got served, after some advance blonde patrolling by one of the pharmacy staff in her white coat, I got the same brown skinned woman as yesterday, which wasn't too much of a (legitimate) surprise, two weekdays in succession. After she made about five misinterpretations as to what I said, what the doctor's business card said, and the Rx frequency, she volunteered to give me a prescription for my medications for today and tomorrow, a two day prescription to "tide me over". Not that I needed it as I have found the medications to be ineffectual, and they appear to serve the yellow color games that abound any day I don't take it, usually Monday mornings when I "forget" when staying over at my parent's place the night before. (The medication is a yellow and white colored capsule and a white pill).
Anyhow, I wasn't quite done yet, as the pharmacy tech vacated her chair to make up the prescriptions, and then the parade of white coated pharmacy techs really got going, passing in front of the chair, and behind the woman who was making up my prescriptions. And at one point, the perps spun the chair about 12" and moved the phone cord while a pharmacy tech passed by, BUT without contacting the chair in any way. In other words, more blatant displays of applied unconventional forces from a remote location with total observance of all proximate objects and parties. And while this wait period was scripted, the Diet Coke packing "customer" then decided to sit behind me, 90 degrees offset, under the cover story of waiting for her prescription to be ready. Call it portable brown substance referencing, moving around me with a case of Diet Coke, the on-street equivalent of the Coca Cola delivery truck loitering around on my walking traverses. The prescription was filled in short order, and then I was "compelled" (read, mind-controlled) to acquire more chocolate bars after yesterday's theft/jerkaround of having it "disappear" off the checkout conveyor belt, and I was also "compelled" to get Cadbury's Creme Eggs, those chocolate eggs with a sweet white and yellow goo inside. Ergo, yellow Rx pills, and then yellow filling of chocolate eggs with bar chocolate as well. A perfect yellow-brown color interaction setup. After passing by the excess of shiftless males in shades outside (cloudy day), when I got back to my apartment there was a woman of about the same build and with the identical avocado jacket standing around, but no case of Diet Coke with her. Then the perps planted the notion of going to my mail box, but lo, if there wasn't a red fleece jacketed gangstalker hanging over top of where my mailbox was, checking his mail (seemingly). Then back to my place with no weirds in the elevator waiting for me, or at the elevator doorway to my floor. Sometimes, it does get to be like normal, but never for long.
That was the story of my big outing today, and just might well be it for the day. Anyhow, hopefully the above story supplies some degree of detail as to how tightly my life is managed, and how weird it can be from all quarters.
1540h
I had my tea and chocolate break, this time eating the Cadbury's Creme Eggs, something I wasn't allowed to do for the past weeks. The perps had me eat this source of chocolate in addition to the regular 100g bar they have me eat then. Small differences are under constant scrutiny, and the variances are one way to notice what the perps are working on; i.e., what is important for their small minds.
Like yesterday's post tea and chocolate period, I am getting a succession of loud mufflered vehicles from outside, some being the most hated Harley Davidson motorcycle noise, the chopped variety. As before, there isn't a bikers bar within five miles, and yet they seem to converge in this neighborhood. And if a motorcycle does arrive, it makes a turn into the parking lot opposite and sits in the driveway for 30 seconds with its engine idling. And it has done this both times since it began. And 10 minutes later when I look outside expecting to see it parked, it is gone, just "somehow" silently departing.
And after investigating as to why my victim's story got online, I found it online at MindcontrolForums, under a new and mispelled name, and not replacing my existing story. Funny how all those disconnects happened, thinking all the time that it was never posted because the site's webmaster never contacted me. I supplied a html file as well, but the .doc file was put on the web. Anyhow, it is all very confusing, and I will put a reference in on the template to the right. In other words, the old version of my story is here, and the update I submittted but didn't know about is here (doc format, 41 pp.). True to form, I get my browser frozen up when I am attempting to visit this website's home page.
A round of motorcycle noise, hallway clatter and outside pounding noise has just erupted in concert with my displaying this page in editable after navigating back from the blog version after the template fix over which of the above stories is which. Such things are of great interest to my mind-keepers, and they have consistently hounded me over creating links, linking to other websites, copying links and anything else to do with them. In the early days, when investigating countermeasures, the perps put on the infamous (to me) kerchunk sound every link/mouseclick that I made and/or bookmarked for over 40 minutes. When they had enough, they unloaded this throbbing pain in my head to force me to finish. Such is how they dealt with me then, and the attitude or gratitude hasn't changed a bit since then. This same kerchunk sound from my "neighbors" has followed me over seven residences since 2002.
I am also getting my email constrained, or it is being managed to look like it, not even the spammers are sending me anything. Nothing for over two days; most curious.
1915h
I am attempting to access The Edge radio tonight as I maybe the guest on Gina Romano's spot on Wednesday. But lo, if my access to this site is restricted and I am not even allowed to find the schedule for tonight. It is fucking annoying to be shut out all the time, especially when the perps likely planted the notion for me to look. It is the same deal as the above mentioned post box gangstalking.
Here is a link to someone who feels the degree of private security personnel is getting out of hand, and that they are used too often and give the impression of living in a police state. This story , Someone's Always Watching Me, could of been planted for me to read, as it is the predominant thought in my life, and my mind-keepers like me to know this all the time. The associated graphic with the back of a lime yellow dayglo jacket brings back plenty of reminders, as the perps like to station their ambulatory operatives wearing this same color of garment. They even have the "parking enforcement" dudes wandering around in this same dayglo color garb, and they also have an alternate navy blue uniform as well. And lo, if they don't put them walking in pairs, the dayglo and the navy blue uniformed "parking enforcement" dudes as a side by side twosome. I had never seen any parking enforcement personnel walking in pairs until the harassment began. Regular readers will also recall that the public street works projects that seem to "erupt" on my walking beats also have a surfeit of "flag people" dressed in dayglo outfits, and one is usually kept in my view from my desk during the daytime, 400' away, conducting pedestrians no doubt.
2100h
Wall tapping has "erupted" as if from one of my putative "neighbors", going through yet another round of picture hanging. This would be about their sixth time in the 10 months I have lived here. It is likely the cover story so the perps can slam the shared wall some.
2125h
Another rant at the perps while they blocked my right click list from displaying, some 4 clicks in succession. All to have me rant at them using the same stock words each time. This is what they were screwing me over, the fate of those who dare investigate the CIA, UK top cop who led CIA probe found dead. They even come to get you if you reside in a location other than the US. This person "fell" off a steep incline while hiking. As one who has experienced the intensified harassment of those playing with action at a distance technologies, I can personally vouch for the fact that there could of been two ways to making taking a hike an deathly experience. They can mentally dither one to take the wrong trail or route, dither with recall and awareness and even have them "happily" step off a cliff edge. This could also be combined with the thickest fog one will ever experience to aid in the "confusion" that was created. A no-big-deal event for the sickos to arrange as retribution, and they aren't making any bones about it from a statistical likelihood perspective.
2240h
The tapping noise slowly tailed off, and now the concrete pounding noise from above has started up in its place. The overhead pounding and coincident zapping abuse hasn't been applied in the past week, maybe the perps are over that particular torture. I wonder what it is about, zapping me. Perhaps it is the low volt version of being tasered, something that is happening with increasing frequency all over North America. A past blog has my ruminations on this topic. For the record, I am being kept in a densified magnetic field, it was 200 Gauss in late 2002, and I cannot imagine what it is now, as there is so much plasma and maser action in my vision, both being magnetically controlled phenomenon.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Lost Camera
1340h
I had my digital camera lifted from my pocket while on the bus, and no one was beside me. Another of those "mystery" disappearances again. I had used it only a minute before getting off, and within a minute later, I checked for my camera and it was gone. All to be accompanied by this woman in this atrociously loud yellow coat before the loss was discovered. The camera had been pulled out of my pack to take a picture of a chainsaw placed in a quarter acre unfenced lot that belongs to the local church. The perps even had the operative cross the street about 200' ahead of me with the saw in hand, place it on this lawn, and then recross the street and disappear. This was way too stupid to pass up, so I took a few pictures of it. When at the bus stop the saw was still in view for the next 5 minutes of waiting for the bus. At no time was it near any wood or conceivable immediate use. A way-out bizarrism, from the Fellini Files perhaps.
The perps have a "need" to have me use certain devices they can then co-opt, and then these same devices must be dispensed with in their technocentric perspective. I went through this with a cell phone at my last residence; I had it as my only phone, but eventually they decided that they wanted rid of it, and lo, if the service didn't degrade and the network got busy on Saturdays for chrissakes. Same deal here possibly, especially being baited by the above mentioned bizarre stunt of chainsaws planted as a prop.
And it was most curious that I had been using my brother's chainsaw yesterday in thinning out my parent's riot of bushes they wanted thinned. After some five years of not asking me to attend to their landscaping, and having boundless free time to do so, they now asked me to thin out the bushes. And so, in using the chainsaw on and off yesterday, my brother and mother were working close at hand, as well as bailing me out on the "intractable problem" of the fucking thing only starting for him, and not for me. All for him to stand over the earmuffs I had been using and go through the designed annoyance of starting it. This after me telling him that it needed to be fixed, and he did squat. Anyhow, it was all very gangstalker-like, in the First Feral Family way.
1415h
The bus was the usual freakshow today; one of my strength training class members "happened" to be on the bus. There was a heavy Asian contingent, and even an East Indian in a bizarre olive green touque in the last few minutes of my travel. Perhaps he is the morphover of my new East Indian doctor I will be meeting in less than an hour. The last doctor, an Asian, was on at least four "happen bys" where I could recognize him, and it would not surprise me that he was more prevalent than that, disguised in morphed over appearances.
The new doctor will be upping the "brown time"; having a male brown skinned exposure for some 15 to 20 minutes, a step up from the Asian for the past 18 months, who was more like a wall to talk to. Not that I expect any different, but who knows, maybe a curve ball is coming, and it won't be the same absurdity of the past doctor visits. I am obliged to play this game, as this is the fount of my benefits. Which makes me wonder why the perps put me in this capacity, save to have me dependent on spending time with their selected specimens. And before long, there will be some "students" to sit in on the session, most of whom say absolutely nothing, and might only be there for extra gangstalking reference. I predict the next doctor will be a negro, to up the "brown content" one more time, likely over a year from now.
1640h
After a 15 minute wait at the doctor's office while my male goofs and gangstalkers arranged themselves around me, only to have a tall woman come in for the last five minutes and sit one chair away, I got to see my new doctor. He is East Indian, built like Ghandi, slim with glasses. And lo, if there wasn't the proverbial "medical student" in there too, and lo, if he wasn't dressed in the same colored clothing as the doctor. The medical student was a Caucasian male, in a mid blue shirt and black pants. The doctor was in a light blue turtle neck with black pants and some ridiculous large brown boots. Go figure, oversized brown boots with black pants. I did most of the talking, and he deferred from getting into a lengthy consult, intending to get the story out of me over many sessions. I see him in another seven weeks, so he is in no hurry to diagnose me (ahem) anytime soon. So much for this being an urgent condition, har, har.
And while waiting, my "pal" from Tues/Thurs strength training who "happened" to be on the bus this morning also "happened" to be at the waiting room too. What a coincidence that I get to look at this weird act three times in two days, and he is on the same bus route.
It is always interesting to see what state the perps put me into when new situations are arranged, i.e. the doctor visit today, especially interpersonal ones that will continue for some years as this is likely to be. They had me in a rattled and anxious state, stumbling over some of my words, and not the usual coherent delivery, and they fucked me out of plenty of my vocabulary. Anyhow, the new doctor didn't get into any incisive questioning beyond the "do you hear voices speaking to you?". The answer is always NO, (legitimately) otherwise they tag you with schizophrenia and that is one tough hole to dig one out of. As an example of how tightly scripted this harassment and mind control is, the perps put on ear ringing some two minutes in advance of the aforementioned doctor's question, and then changed the ringing frequency for me to notice it all the more. And it "so happened" that I mentioned the ear ringing in response to his question about hearing voices. It simply boggles my mind as to how much the perps are managing me, right down to how I enunciate my words.
On the walk to and backfrom the doctor's visit, I had my usual, if not heavy, consort of gangstalking vehicles, heavy with black colored ones today, as much as the usual reference colors of white and silver-grey. And plenty of blue colored vehicles too, sometimes four in file. (Note the "coincidence" with the blued dressed medical personnel above). The perps put on the backlit sun games again as I was walking back for 30 minutes, making everyone and everything look leached of color and a murky grey. It is fucking depraved that they won't let me see things in natural, unmanipulated color.
I had the usual proliferation of plastic bag bearing gangstalkers, and they even put on an ambulatory swarm around me at one location, five males "happened" to converge on the sidewalk as I was about to pass through. I also had a swarm of three motorized wheelchairs on me too, not far from my apartment, one on lead-ahead gangstalking duty. There were at least three more on my outing, and that makes six more than I would expect. It is simply amazing how many of these fucking things keep "arriving" in my proximity.
And today being Monday is heavy on the yellow colored gangstalking; this is the day I "forget" to take my yellow colored meds, and lo, if there wasn't the most disgusting yellow coat leading me off the bus and within 6' when I "discovered" my camera missing from my jacket. That is, the assholes who surrepticiously removed it without any sensation reminded me to look at the pocket where it had been. All withing 20 seconds of getting off the bus, and the perps wanted me to know the exact circumstances of its removal; there one minute, gone the next, no sound of it tumbling out or anything like that.
And when headed to the doctor's office, lo if the yellow city fire truck didn't erupt from its firehall bay with sirens and lights flashing and head down the street on a "call out". And just ahead of it, why a yellow jacketed cyclist with a red helmet. I saw at least 10 cyclists wearing yellow today, and I have remarked in past blogs how there "happens" to be so many on no-yellow-medication days.
1900h
The perps have me in a total frazzled state; cranked up at every provocation. Not only did the two start up applications clash, (read, intermingle their respective dialog boxes and windows), but at the instant it displayed, a firecracker noise went off. Talk about infantile nutters out of control; what is the cover story for that one?
02-26-2008
0940h
Another forced "forget" to post this last night, though I did have a video session on the 9/11 anomalies and the commission's findings. There are so many oddities to this event that it defies probability that it was a so called "terrorist" event, and yet this insane invasion of Afganistan and Iraq is a seeming consequence.
Anyhow, I got a phone call later that my camera was found on the bus and can be picked up; the perps needed some "separation time" between the camera and its case. Fucking bizarre by conventional standards, but nothing I haven't seen before.
Time to post this, even if I am getting the faux neighbor noise of whining water running in the pipes.
I had my digital camera lifted from my pocket while on the bus, and no one was beside me. Another of those "mystery" disappearances again. I had used it only a minute before getting off, and within a minute later, I checked for my camera and it was gone. All to be accompanied by this woman in this atrociously loud yellow coat before the loss was discovered. The camera had been pulled out of my pack to take a picture of a chainsaw placed in a quarter acre unfenced lot that belongs to the local church. The perps even had the operative cross the street about 200' ahead of me with the saw in hand, place it on this lawn, and then recross the street and disappear. This was way too stupid to pass up, so I took a few pictures of it. When at the bus stop the saw was still in view for the next 5 minutes of waiting for the bus. At no time was it near any wood or conceivable immediate use. A way-out bizarrism, from the Fellini Files perhaps.
The perps have a "need" to have me use certain devices they can then co-opt, and then these same devices must be dispensed with in their technocentric perspective. I went through this with a cell phone at my last residence; I had it as my only phone, but eventually they decided that they wanted rid of it, and lo, if the service didn't degrade and the network got busy on Saturdays for chrissakes. Same deal here possibly, especially being baited by the above mentioned bizarre stunt of chainsaws planted as a prop.
And it was most curious that I had been using my brother's chainsaw yesterday in thinning out my parent's riot of bushes they wanted thinned. After some five years of not asking me to attend to their landscaping, and having boundless free time to do so, they now asked me to thin out the bushes. And so, in using the chainsaw on and off yesterday, my brother and mother were working close at hand, as well as bailing me out on the "intractable problem" of the fucking thing only starting for him, and not for me. All for him to stand over the earmuffs I had been using and go through the designed annoyance of starting it. This after me telling him that it needed to be fixed, and he did squat. Anyhow, it was all very gangstalker-like, in the First Feral Family way.
1415h
The bus was the usual freakshow today; one of my strength training class members "happened" to be on the bus. There was a heavy Asian contingent, and even an East Indian in a bizarre olive green touque in the last few minutes of my travel. Perhaps he is the morphover of my new East Indian doctor I will be meeting in less than an hour. The last doctor, an Asian, was on at least four "happen bys" where I could recognize him, and it would not surprise me that he was more prevalent than that, disguised in morphed over appearances.
The new doctor will be upping the "brown time"; having a male brown skinned exposure for some 15 to 20 minutes, a step up from the Asian for the past 18 months, who was more like a wall to talk to. Not that I expect any different, but who knows, maybe a curve ball is coming, and it won't be the same absurdity of the past doctor visits. I am obliged to play this game, as this is the fount of my benefits. Which makes me wonder why the perps put me in this capacity, save to have me dependent on spending time with their selected specimens. And before long, there will be some "students" to sit in on the session, most of whom say absolutely nothing, and might only be there for extra gangstalking reference. I predict the next doctor will be a negro, to up the "brown content" one more time, likely over a year from now.
1640h
After a 15 minute wait at the doctor's office while my male goofs and gangstalkers arranged themselves around me, only to have a tall woman come in for the last five minutes and sit one chair away, I got to see my new doctor. He is East Indian, built like Ghandi, slim with glasses. And lo, if there wasn't the proverbial "medical student" in there too, and lo, if he wasn't dressed in the same colored clothing as the doctor. The medical student was a Caucasian male, in a mid blue shirt and black pants. The doctor was in a light blue turtle neck with black pants and some ridiculous large brown boots. Go figure, oversized brown boots with black pants. I did most of the talking, and he deferred from getting into a lengthy consult, intending to get the story out of me over many sessions. I see him in another seven weeks, so he is in no hurry to diagnose me (ahem) anytime soon. So much for this being an urgent condition, har, har.
And while waiting, my "pal" from Tues/Thurs strength training who "happened" to be on the bus this morning also "happened" to be at the waiting room too. What a coincidence that I get to look at this weird act three times in two days, and he is on the same bus route.
It is always interesting to see what state the perps put me into when new situations are arranged, i.e. the doctor visit today, especially interpersonal ones that will continue for some years as this is likely to be. They had me in a rattled and anxious state, stumbling over some of my words, and not the usual coherent delivery, and they fucked me out of plenty of my vocabulary. Anyhow, the new doctor didn't get into any incisive questioning beyond the "do you hear voices speaking to you?". The answer is always NO, (legitimately) otherwise they tag you with schizophrenia and that is one tough hole to dig one out of. As an example of how tightly scripted this harassment and mind control is, the perps put on ear ringing some two minutes in advance of the aforementioned doctor's question, and then changed the ringing frequency for me to notice it all the more. And it "so happened" that I mentioned the ear ringing in response to his question about hearing voices. It simply boggles my mind as to how much the perps are managing me, right down to how I enunciate my words.
On the walk to and backfrom the doctor's visit, I had my usual, if not heavy, consort of gangstalking vehicles, heavy with black colored ones today, as much as the usual reference colors of white and silver-grey. And plenty of blue colored vehicles too, sometimes four in file. (Note the "coincidence" with the blued dressed medical personnel above). The perps put on the backlit sun games again as I was walking back for 30 minutes, making everyone and everything look leached of color and a murky grey. It is fucking depraved that they won't let me see things in natural, unmanipulated color.
I had the usual proliferation of plastic bag bearing gangstalkers, and they even put on an ambulatory swarm around me at one location, five males "happened" to converge on the sidewalk as I was about to pass through. I also had a swarm of three motorized wheelchairs on me too, not far from my apartment, one on lead-ahead gangstalking duty. There were at least three more on my outing, and that makes six more than I would expect. It is simply amazing how many of these fucking things keep "arriving" in my proximity.
And today being Monday is heavy on the yellow colored gangstalking; this is the day I "forget" to take my yellow colored meds, and lo, if there wasn't the most disgusting yellow coat leading me off the bus and within 6' when I "discovered" my camera missing from my jacket. That is, the assholes who surrepticiously removed it without any sensation reminded me to look at the pocket where it had been. All withing 20 seconds of getting off the bus, and the perps wanted me to know the exact circumstances of its removal; there one minute, gone the next, no sound of it tumbling out or anything like that.
And when headed to the doctor's office, lo if the yellow city fire truck didn't erupt from its firehall bay with sirens and lights flashing and head down the street on a "call out". And just ahead of it, why a yellow jacketed cyclist with a red helmet. I saw at least 10 cyclists wearing yellow today, and I have remarked in past blogs how there "happens" to be so many on no-yellow-medication days.
1900h
The perps have me in a total frazzled state; cranked up at every provocation. Not only did the two start up applications clash, (read, intermingle their respective dialog boxes and windows), but at the instant it displayed, a firecracker noise went off. Talk about infantile nutters out of control; what is the cover story for that one?
02-26-2008
0940h
Another forced "forget" to post this last night, though I did have a video session on the 9/11 anomalies and the commission's findings. There are so many oddities to this event that it defies probability that it was a so called "terrorist" event, and yet this insane invasion of Afganistan and Iraq is a seeming consequence.
Anyhow, I got a phone call later that my camera was found on the bus and can be picked up; the perps needed some "separation time" between the camera and its case. Fucking bizarre by conventional standards, but nothing I haven't seen before.
Time to post this, even if I am getting the faux neighbor noise of whining water running in the pipes.
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