Tuesday, June 02, 2009

Pseudosweat Season Begins

0805h
An early 0620h get-up and ferocious levels of provocations; at least 40 rage-ifications so far today, the perps going especially sick when I was doing the morning bathroom routine; shower, shave, dental hygeine. I normally don't get this degree of fuckery so early, but the morning shave has been getting much worse of late. The usual provocations; fingertip jabs, faked touches, pulling items from my grasp, blatant cuts (not from the razor when ovoid in shape), perceptual jerkarounds, and the continuing Pseudosweats, which began at breakfast.

This is where they create sweaty skin and have it drip down my back and elbows. Even at 0630h when eating breakfast for crissakes and it isn't hot. My back was sweated as were my forearms, an body region they like to heap plenty of abuse upon; faked touches, jabs from nowhere, scratches, etc. Then again, more Pseudosweats all over me within five minutes of being towel dry after a shower and continuing for the rest of my bathroom routine. This will continue every day it is sunny for the next four months. And need I mention that it all began when the assholes went overt on me in 2002, though for decades before I always wondered why I sweated the most in any given phys-ed class.

1545h
The month end accounting fuckover games; they left me alone until 2/3 through the month and then began dithering my cognition, item tracking, recall, typed in amounts and every other thing to start the rage show up again. The chocolate tab was $228 for the month, all other food was $143. All because the assholes cannot figure out the dynamics of the color brown from a distance, and lack the gumption to front for nonconsensual human experimentation in person. So, seven years later we now have yellow tiles on the floor of the two elevators, one with a chocolate brown fitted carpet on top. This is in the aid of toilet contents emulation if you must know. The perps cannot figure out one's brown energy from internal organs from that of chocolate in the mouth, brown carpets, and now the increasing number of Fuckwits wearing brown colors. More mid-brown colors even, and not just tan browns. Constant and relentless abuse in the name of brown. We had brownshirts at one time, and I think they never left us, they just melted into the shadows, as the present day brown clowns. And are just as observant of democratic rights as the last round of brownshirts.

As an example of the perp abusive fastidiousness, they arranged for me to purchase items after the eveningtime cleaning job at the supermarket to have identical totals two days in succession. And when entering these into my Quicken tonight, they made sure to dither me into "thinking" I had entered the transaction just before, "confusing" the two and the items in each. I never make these kinds of mistakes, and yet they are "happening" all the time.

And so to keep the record straight, the assholes scripted my month end financial update to occur after tea and chocolate. The perps have been very consistent in scheduling these events in this way, possibly six months or more now. The colors are related to the financial fuckover stunts in some way. Perhaps they will have my buying PC parts from negroes before long.

Even the guitarstalkers are wearing brown, packing their black soft case on their backs as is the new found custom among the sudden surfeit of minstrels and troubadors that abound in my proximity. And no less, a brown soft case guitarstalker yesterday, though not wearing brown as I vaguely recall.

2140h
A mighty gangstalking was in order after keeping me in all day; I don't know what the attraction is, but they made sure I had more awake time for this "event", after a fitful sleep too. As always, (now), I don't get tired and am just fine without the loss of sleep, save the boredom of finding something to do.

The ten minute walk to the car dealership job, and likewise when on the return trip, had, among the many others, three negro gangstalkers. The record is four for this "commute", but I did get a negro whacko banging on the locked doors to be let in one night. Fucking bizarre to say the least. Today's fugliest Unfavored "customer" at the car dealerhip was a red frizzy headed woman; first outside, then in the showroom when vacuuming the carpets, and then reprising for a third time, sitting in an office, seeming going over the details with a salesman. As always, there is extra side gangstalker action when vacuuming, and I had the same loafing weird salesman 2' from the carpets I was vacuuming not even bothering to get out of the way. This was the same disinterested proximate dude last night when a seeming engorged mosquito self destructed with a blood splat on the floor. Last night I noted they had "blonde support", one of the saleswomen posing at various curious locations, sometimes for no reason it would seem. But tonight, so Favored female support, just the Sales dudes, though one of them is OK and is reasonably talkative. I don't get why they lounge around so often, but they do. Maybe it is to creep me out some more, and that is isn't always a governed "reaction".

Now the door slamming acts in the hallway, always a curiousity at to how this can happen when every door is on a hydraulic hinge control that slows down door closure. But it happens, sudden outbreaks of two to four times per minute for at least six minutes.

The gangstalker scene really flourished after the part time cleaning job at the car dealership. I stopped at the local supermarket and had to get coffee, and then stand there while the beans were ground in the machine, a whole five minutes or so. They all sprang from every corner of the store, some 25 different gangstalkers emerged, some even doing back and forths while the brown coffee was ground up. Coffee is the brown reference colored liquid the assholes pack with them all over town in my proximity, and they often drink it in my presence to get that in-mouth color resonance synced up with mine it would seem. This morning was another screaming rage fuckover show over applying peanut butter and red jam on toast at breakfast, like always, and I suspect one color over the other has related significance to that of publically drinking coffee and having it in one's mouth. (Red flesh enclosing brown mouth contents (coffee); an exciting concept for a sick asshole who engages in nonconsensual human abuse, all to address the follies of their child abuse it seems.

They couldn't erase all memories when aged 3 to 5 y.o. it seems, hence getting a heavy tattoo contingent of gangstalkers sporting tattoos, and even one woman putting on her shoulder butterfly for me to see tonight. Somehow, in the arcane Fuckwit mind, a tattoo on a woman (Favored if attractive) is better than on a male (Unfavored), or at least that is what they appear to be comparing when returning from the cleaning job tonight, both in the store, on the street, and then in the lobby when I was entering, a heavy tattoo set on a shirtless dude, me keeping my head down after the first glance of this grotesquerie. The last time I was there at this same supermarket they ringed me with male skinheads. The importance of these Unfavored demographic group specimens seems to have some relationship to the deranged goings-on I was exposed to as a child; the infamous Dr. Ewen Cameron's treatment/abuse center of Montreal might have been the location during the years of the memory wipings. I have recently learned via an online interview with someone who does recall these circumstances that the patients/victims had their heads shaved and tattooed lines on them for reference markings between sessions. And that the perps like to arrange Scottish accented gangstalkers from time to time, which might be emulating Dr. Cameron's speech characteristics of the day, as he was Scottish. The degree of circumstantial evidence is closing in on this horrific bullshit, and I have no idea as to why the perps wish to remediate these traumatization associations if that is what it is all about. Just leave me the fuck alone; I was doing fine until the assholes went beserk and overt in 04-2002.

All I have to do to close the loop on this is to be allowed, instead of rendered so dysthymically demotivated, is to phone that person, as she makes herself availible for informal victim counselling. So far, my emails have gotten nowhere on this one, and it is made to be a big deal to phone the person.

Another long running dysthymic jerkaround is "getting it together", that is, being allowed to follow up on the subsidies availible for training on current day computer software that is availible in evening classes. I was told to phone and interview prospective employers as to the worth of these courses, and I haven't done anything for over six months. This is not like me, I never fold in the face of rightful grant monies, especially with nothing but time on my hands. Every day I form an intent to do so, and then I get dulled out or diverted onto something pedantic. Needless to say, if I miss out on these courses in the fall and next spring, you will be reading about my rants as to perp mendacity every day. It has got past a joke, and I want to get on with resuming a semblance of a life instead of this depraved life-rape scene every day. Over a hundred rage-ifications today, all because it is the assholes' biggest play in lieu of them assembling the gumption to show their face and tell me why I am being harassed and abused like this for over seven years now. And they never answer the question as to how many heads I get to bash in for each year of this insane depravity when I get released.

2250h
A minor add-in to yesterday's blog posting, describing another disinterested doctor moment so that there is more specificity to the singular lack of clinical curiousity, never mind empathy.

This one is done for the day, and hopefully I will be allowed to sleep without dumbshit dream invasions, never mind the meat aerials that go on for hours.

And if it comes from Scientific American it is decidedly MOR (Middle Of the Road), but here is, Why People Believe Invisible Agents Control the World. The secret is no more; they do, and they aren't so invisible either. Ask any TI. Worse yet, they are totally insane and depraved.

No comments: