Last night's mutilation worse than I thought

Last night's mutilation worse than I thought---fucking goddamned pigs have completely moved the upper half of my forward, leaving me, not only with no-neck, but with a severe overbite. As I forced myself to look at myself in the mirror this morning, I realized that I looked different, uglier, with a bigger nose and more receding chin than usual. But I told myself, "don't worry about it, you know that you always look worst when you are drugged." But as the day when on, I realized something was seriously wrong with my jaws and my "bite." Then I started noticing that I was having pain in my teeth, which is unusual, because most of the nerves are dead from my teenage oral surgery. So I looked closer again, and realized that the butchers had completely mutilated my facial structure, which, by judging from my bloated cheeks and jowls, allows for greater viral fluid, but which also, well, makes the nose bigger, and the chin more deficient. In a word, uglier. Not only that, I am suffering from nerve pain in my teeth and jaws--they have done something to my lower facial nerves.

I could be depressed about my new ugly look. I guess I could bother to point out, that someone should tell the goddamned sirians that to be feminine is to take pride in one's looks---something the fucking bastards have totally stole from me. The truth is, I don't care anymore. I look like I feel--an ugly, mutilated freak who has been systematically removed from all human society and consolation. There is a patriarchal saint, St. Rosa of Lima. She was an extraordinarily beautiful woman, but she, brainwashed by mind-control religion, became a celibate nun, and when men continued to stare at her, she threw acid on her face, so that she would no longer be beautiful. That is a perfect example of mind-control, fucked up, patriarchal religion at work. I would never throw acid on my face, castrate myself, destroy my rib rage, triceps, neck and shoulders, and leave myself hobbling in crippled pain. But that doesn't stop the jesuit patriarchal religionists from having it done to me.
There is nothing I can do about it. My body is in constant pain, and I don't know how I'm going get the will to survive this life when I'm in such constant back and arm pain, without worrying about how ugly I am. You fucking goddamn pigs--you destroy and mutilate everything you touch.

I will close off on a positive note. I have recognized the area from which I suffer pulsating pain in my brain. It is the right temporal parietal junction. Even now, that spot is very tender to the touch. I read on the web that scientists have found that electromagnetic pulses in that area cause one to lose a sense of right and wrong. It is also related to out of body experiences. Well, guess what? The Sirian machine, which proclaims such high ethical rhetoric, has successfully undermined the morality of tens of thousands of humans--including our own military. Interestingly enough, this area of the brain does not develop until the 20's (which supports my conception of a more liberal juvenile justice), but it also tells me that this is the morality that is formed by cultural and familial norms and teaching. In Christian terms, that is known as "the Law." The "Law" is very important, and our society suffers from so much incivility and moral corruption because respect for "the Law" has collapsed--the result of Illuminati engineering. But the ultimate authority for a spiritual person is not the "Law", but the grace of God. The basis of my morality is not the culturally transmitted "law" which is neurologically resident in my right temporal parietal junction; rather my morality springs from my relationship with God through the Holy Spirit, in my soul. I cannot feel my relationship to God, because the luciferian virus totally blocks it. Nevertheless, my soul, while it can, and does suffer terribly through the physical body, is still free to cling to God, and it does, which is why the Sirians could burst every nerve cell in my brain, but they cannot get me to act against my God-given (through grace, not physical birth), and God-sustained inner morality. Moral of the story: It is those who are grace-filled by relationship with God who are most capable of fighting the spiritual enslavement sought by the machine. People, seek God. Grace is a gift. It cannot be earned, but if you ask for it long and hard enough, it will come to the humble, the receptive, and the poor (of spirit, if you prefer the Matthean, not the original Markan, gloss).