Sunday, May 04, 2014
Process of elimination..
(begun Thursday 1st May at 4.05am.)
I'd done a double-take when I'd read her post yesterday, although I'm that jumpy, that anyone who uses the words wind or lights gets a closer look nowadays.
'The winds of revival are rustling through the streets'. A revival of what? The old morals and values? As much as I'd like to believe that, it's the furthest thing from the truth.
When it comes to winds however, she's right on the money, and I'd suggest that those artificial gusts are taking place across the Zone.
I'd started off by putting wet cloths over the bath outlet pipe, and that had appeared to eliminate the strong funnel of air that runs along the bath wall next to me, although there'd still been a lot of inexplicable activity... So the next time, I'd included a towel laid at the bottom of the door, and still those gentle puffs of wind against my wet skin could be felt.
*It's 4.35am and an alarm has just kicked off.. The DRC tenants down at No. 2? AK Patel at No. 4? More carefully laid-on terror-tactics?*
I'd also hung three long strips of toilet paper at strategic points around the bathroom, although not one of them had moved even slightly when the puffs of wind had arrived.
That left only the two air vents high up on the courtyard-facing wall, to provide access for these manmade winds, and I'd need a ladder to prove or disprove that theory, dammit.
I'd come awake at 4.40am yesterday morning, and had stirred only to find my lower back had been donkey-kicked while I'd slept. When I finally rose at 5.20am, you can bet that I'd done so with extreme caution, although that horrific ache had been dumbed down considerably by then. I'd been laying in the bath soaking at around 7am, when I became aware of a tender patch around the top of my butt-crack, and it had felt like a roastie, rough and sore. I'd shown the area to my old man a little later and he'd said it looked red, was all... Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Man, that must have been quite a barrage of concentrated laser beams to have actually caused a visible mark like that, and the end results could well have produced the extreme discomfort I'd woken to, after 4am...
Remind me again of how these fine quantum warriors are set to protect us? Bah!
It had been mid-afternoon yesterday when I'd noticed the strip light in godschild's storeroom HERE was on, and I'd gone on to fantasize that my Monitors were trying for a work-around to alleviate at least some of the pain their participation causes me. That if they were to employ that light right up there, to promote the Blessed signal, instead of their back kitchen lights just a few yards from where I sit in the lounge, things might improve for the better. Whatever.
Although I'd taken the usual occasional knife to my cancer during the day, they'd had the grace for the most part, to leave it alone, and the grinding assaults of the previous day had been absent.
The evening Shift had instead settled for the unpleasant pinch to the side, nearest their backdoor lights, and shutting the window behind me had made no difference whatsoever. Still and all, I'd gone to bed grateful for small mercies...
I'd sent a Friend request to Mr. Chubbo the day before, although I doubt he checks his Facebook status regularly... More likely he uses it as a tool to get details of possible targets, rather like our Paul Kirk does. Chubbo? That would be our friend Glen Agliotti, who you can rest assured was given his own personal quantum laser coven to control, back in the early days... On the plus side, I'd gained a new Friend yesterday, though I've no idea why. She's a talker that one, and from the moment a fellow poster had told her to be careful what she said, I'd had her marked as a recruit to the Smart City Project.
Did she not have access to my updates prior to Friending me? Would my incoherent descriptions of the myriad remote assaults I endure help her to recognize if she herself were to draw enemy fire? Hopefully that's a yes.
Your knees have taken to playing up? Your wrists and elbows often ache? Is this something that could occur to all Monitors in their line of work, and they're encouraged to simply shrug it off? Hey, if it's happening on a regular basis, I'd suggest you have a word with your Area Controller, and pay a visit to your GP as well, just in case a few of your fellow 'soldiers' have turned on you without your knowledge...
It's been a long time since I was woken kindly, but at 2.45am I'd found myself aroused (literally) by the arrival of a mild version of the Fiddler's frequency, which I'd made the most of, despite that I suspect I was being used as a demo model to impress the SW visitor at the time.
If that was so, I hope the chap wasn't fooled in the slightest, as the full-on version of that particular delight is vastly different to the dumbed-down version that he was shown. There'd been the faint chirrup of a remote at 3.05am, though I've no idea whether He was coming or going at the time. Right now, here at the desk, there's a truly unpleasant ache in my womb area, but thankfully my cancer is pain free..
My Controller continues to run THIS signal enhancer at half-mast, to attain his desired goals, although at least it's static and not giving off the sheet-lightning effect.
This update has been remarkably different to the one I'd begun scribbling on Tuesday at 11am, and which I'd abandoned this morning for no real reason. Am I after all, being subtly manipulated, until a means can be found to silence me properly? Your guess, folks..