Mutilations continue

Mutilations continue--now they are cutting out muscles in my calves and hamstrings. I noticed this when I wondered "why have I lost my power and my strength in my legs when I walk?" It was clear that I was missing my natural spring and lift in my step. Sure enough when I had an opportunity to look and feel for my muscles, they were gone! I HAD LOST OVER 50% of my musculature in my legs. I am beyond outrage--I no longer care that much. It is obvious that I will never be anything but a fat slug of a lab rat to those jesuit/nazi/illuminati/sirian disciples of lucifer.

As the day went on, however, bigger complications emerged. My leg muscles are all contorted and now my knee isnt working right. I know that it is very close to literally popping or tearing out and if it does, I am fucked, really fucked. My knees have always been weak, and an orthopedic surgeon told me once that while I had prematurely arthritic knees which otherwise might give me a lot of trouble, that I was lucky, that they probably wouldn't ever bother me, because I had such strong and extensive musculature supporting the knees. Lucky no more. There's no doubt in my mind that they cut out or trimmed my supporting knee muscles as well. As I write this, I am drinking vodka to try to kill the pain I am feeling in my right leg, all the way from the pelvic girdle to my icy cold, numb foot. As bad as I felt, I forced myself to get up and buy a fifth of vodka. I was desperate for it last night. 3 Tylenol PM and a vicodin couldn't knock me out, and I was in agonizing back pain, not to mention going out of my mind with the psychosis inducing drugs the pigs force on me. The pain I now suffer in my back is easily, and by a LONG country mile, the absolute worst that I have ever experienced in my life--and I have suffered major back pain on multiple occasions in the last 15 years. But now, I no longer am able to move or stretch it out--everything is locked up and spasming so tight, I plead God for death. Even now as I write this, I am in back pain. I know it is the pain where the goddamned butchers have done their cutting on me, like I am a fucking medical school corpse. They are all like the Mengelian, blonde sadist that I met in the hospital; they take perverse pride in cutting me up, and destroying my body bit by bit. Destruction and the dispensation of suffering is the only thing that gives them pleasure or a feeling of accomplishment. Well enjoy my suffering you fucking sons of bitches. You have literally made my life a living hell, with constant pain, and ongoing weakness in every single structure of my body. I am in the worst back pain of my life. I have constant headaches that I cannot treat, because they are caused by your goddamned implants. My arms are constantly going to sleep, and developing pins and needles in my hands. I now suffer from carpal tunnel syndrome. Now my legs are the same way. I no longer walk like a young woman, but an elderly lady with one foot in the grave. I no longer have the strength or vitality for even simple acts, like lifting a beer mug to drink, that I once did. By every standard and criteria possible, you have made my life worse and more difficult. Great job motherfuckers--your daddy, satan, is proud of you, I am sure.

So what is their rationale? Do they admit that they do what they do out of a sense of punitive power over others because they have no legitimate authority, over even themselves, sold out to, and possessed by satan, as they are? Night before last, I dreamed of speaking with the evil, alien pharaoh from the movie, "Stargate." He told me, "We need you to be a woman." For those of you who have never seen the movie "Stargate," it is important that you know that this pharaoh was similar to many of the pharaohs of ancient Egypt--a parasitically evil leech of a fellow whose only regard for human beings is to have us serve them. The Sirians were deeply involved with the ancient Egyptian culture, their Aryan henchmen at the time, and their reptilian, Agarthan allies. I think it fair to say that the Sirians and their Aryan stenchmen (Dr. Mengele) are the ones carving me up like a turkey now. I have only seen a few of the shows of the series Stargate, but from the little I have seen, they as well, recognize those Sirians for what they are--nonorganic, parasitical beings who enjoy slumming around in the brains and bodies of human beings, living in a reality they cannot directly experience themselves. So why do they need me to be a woman?
Well, let me go back and explain my theory from before--how these luciferian Sirians (and Arcturians and a whole host others) are currently allied with the reptilians and Aryans for strategic reasons. Basically, they have carved up the segments of humanity, apportioning them for various ends and types of slavery. Unlucky me! I have DNA that is very reptilian AND very compatible with luciferian being(Sirian--I am going to use them, because I think they are the ones cutting on me, but there are many other species assimilated into the luciferian complex, and maybe, somewhere in the world, there are decent Sirian brethren). In other words, my DNA can be activated so that it is possible for me to shapeshift into a reptile (I have never shapeshifted, butI do think that my astral body is reptilian in form). Not only that, but the Sirians find my DNA and body structure an "acceptable container" for them to live out their fantasies. This, in Christian terms, is known as possession by an evil spirit. Occultists would call it a "walk-in." Basically, my self all but disappears into a limbo like space in my psyche, and another nonorganic being takes over my body to enjoy life. Well, for years now (ever since the goddamned spiritual life institute sold me out to their jesuit friends), the luciferian illuminati have had me tagged as either a great candidate for reptilian shapeshifter or as a feminine avatar or saint. Now, I want to make certain that you understand that they are not interested in my sanctity or spiritual life at all. They are not calling forth my own personal holiness--they just want to use my body, my brain, and my voice to spew forth their own luciferian spiel, by which they hope to entice, entrap, and enslave large numbers of humanity, so that they and the reptilians can feed unto perpetuity. To some extent, the mind-control religionists of the world's great religions already do this, trapping and enslaving the spirit of sincere seekers through guilt and suffering. As someone who has experienced real salvation and spiritual life, I know that holiness is a fulfillment of one's self, not an abasement or negation of oneself. But holiness is not on their agenda at all. They merely want to use me. They don't acknowlege or have any respect for who I am. They want to turn me into an appropriate container for their head honcho sirian wannabe avatar--and it wants to experience life as a woman, both for its own personal reasons, and because, in at least one timeline to which they have access, there is a feminine avatar which gives meaning to desperately enslaved masses of beings. The sirian pharoah wants to be worshipped as a woman, and my DNA and high IQ are a perfect match as a bodily container for its expectations!

This isn't the first time that predatory aliens have forced themselves on my life, skewering me away from my natural trajectory. I am certain now that aliens were responsible for arresting my development as a male in the womb. I know that they have done it to others, specifically in Michigan, but probably in other places as well. They had the technology to scan DNA of fetuses, probably in conjuction with routine doctor tests (never underestimate the efficiency of nazis). I also think that my Dad, was on their radar from his time in the military. His surname, one of the most highly regarded in the occult world, would have been a profiling tag for them. As a matter of fact, I think they ran mind control tests on my father to try to turn him into, at least, a low level mind-controlled drone. But my dad was very immature (he was 17 when he entered the service) and deeply rebellious against authority, and while they damaged his psyche permanently, they could never own him. They were looking for a certain profile which they could use as a high end slave for either the reptilian or luciferian sirian agenda, and while my dad was mostly discarded, his progeny in the womb could be engineered from my fetal stage. My DNA in the womb matched what they were looking for.


I am not sure what they did in the womb--did they deliberately change my natural gender to female, so that they could have access to lots of eggs, because they knew they needed lots of Aryan eggs because their race was could no longer reproduce itself. Or did they know, from my DNA, that I was an "old soul", deeply gifted and likely very spiritual, and therefore I would be a great container for the sirian pharaoh in the sky looking for a body in which to incarnate as a female avatar (years of time means nothing to occultists or their alien overlords. They are into manipulating multiple timelines).

There is also the possibility that the arrested development and change of my male gender was an accident. I would invite people to look on the internet for photos of the ring fingers of Maurice Strong and Nathaniel Rothschild (there probably are others, but these two I have definitely noticed). Both of these men come from an ancient and proudly evil lineage, and they both have abnormally long ring fingers, and I mean ABNORMALLY long--by far the longest finger on the hand. At once point, a while back, I woke up with pain in my ring finger, and felt deeply alienated from my emotions, so looked things up about it. The ring finger is somehow connected to the heart, but I also learned that ring finger length depended on the amount of testosterone experienced in the womb. Were these two men (and baby me), deliberately tampered with in the womb, exposed to abnormally high levels of testosterone, so that they would be great bodily containers as a MASCULINE avatar? If so, did my "old soul" somehow know that if I were to survive such a hypermasculine tampering, that I would be more susceptible to manipulation by the evil alien overloads? Or was the testosterone overload simply too much for my body to handle (for I have not only Aryan/reptilian genes, but also Lemurian ones through my mother's Mayan side), and so the body just developed a profound allergic reaction to it, and thus developed as a female?

I don't know, but in either case, I suspect that this in-utero genetic tampering was deliberate, and that it led to a really difficult early life. It is not easy being a man in a woman's body, especially when I grew up in a patriarchal culture and family that really did not value the feminine. It took me years, not until my early 20's, to develop a healthy self-identity vis-a-vis the larger world around me. I think much of my struggles fitting into the world in a manner consistent with my gifts is a result not only of my social relations difficulty because of my autism, but also because people (especially men) unconsciously resent the fact that I am not available to their psychic needs and projections as a female. The more traditional the setting, the more rigid the gender roles, the bigger the problem, but to some extent I encounter it nearly everywhere. It is just hard to be a man in a woman's body, not only for me, but for people I encounter for whom socio-cultural roles are paramount in determining relationship. While I don't think that socio-cultural constructs are definitive, they are appropriately useful and have merit, so that I struggle to fit in. But no question about it--my life would have been a lot easier, and I would have been a lot happier if I were born a male. But then, maybe again, I would have been encouraged, groomed and respected, all the way up into the highest echelons of the Jesuit order, and while I talked all about Jesus, scripture, and church, my heart would have been as black and dead as the robes I wore, until the day when I raped somebody's astral body while they slept, as I would be too repressed and miserable to develop a loving relationship in the real world. Hard to say...I don't dwell on what could have been. I work with where I am. Positively speaking, my neurotic difficulties as a youth, gave me cover to develop a deep and strong spirit without interference from the eye of Sauron, which is omnipresent everywhere, and especially because of my surname. Without that deep and strong spirit, I would never have been able to identify and resist the lies and duplicity of the evil that has dogged my life the last 15 years. I can honestly say, that as miserable as I am, I could not choose to do otherwise.

So, despite pharaoh's request, I will never be a woman for you. It is not who I am. I spent the first half of my life struggling with it, and trying to find a way to be a woman, and feeling guilty because I knew I wasn't a woman, and one good thing that comes with age is, that I don't care what anybody thinks anymore. As someone struggling to find validation as a woman, it was important to me that I look good. I was proud of my muscular body, my small, but seemingly feminine bosom, my cheekbones--you have taken all that away from me, you pigs, and left me with a broken down, mutilated body. Do you think I am a traditional female--who takes no pride in my feminine body and self, but only shame. No, if I were a woman, and when I live the illusion of being feminine, I take pride in being feminine, but on my terms, not those of patriarchal society. Yes, I am ashamed of this fat slug body that can no longer work out, but it is because you have stripped away all illusion of femininity and left me what I really am, a mutilated eunuch. No, my feminine days are gone forever, and in the latter half of my life, with a mature and strong ego and self-esteem, I no longer desire to be who I am not. No more praying to God to make me a woman (I always wondered why I didn't feel like a real woman. LOL). I am not a woman, and will never be one, so find another container, pharoah. "It ain't me, babe. No, no, no, it ain't me, babe. It ain't me, you're looking for babe."

I just want to close by saying that I had this dream after watching a history channel show about the Pharaoh Akhenaten, who is a really interesting character from Egyptian history. I watched the show because I've noticed for a long time the similarity between him and Barack Obama. No accident that. Obama's family was very involved in the occult, and satanic worship, and no doubt the PIB powers that be noticed what a physically perfect container he would be as a political incarnation of some Sirian Akhenaten wanna be. Many have remarked on Obama's unusual face and bluish lips--I think he has been genetically altered to look even more like his overlord's fantasy.

The thing about Akhenaten was, that, from looking at his statues, he clearly was intersexed. God only knows what the BCE aliens did to him. Was Akhenaten really a man in a woman's body like me? Don't let the DNA of descendants fool you--the sirians of that time could have carried on the royal line easily, and the royal family lived secluded, insular lives. He certainly was a successful avatar for his day, with his revolutionary monotheistic worship of Ra the sun god, but as with all phony walk-in avatars, his religion didn't last. So is that who my Sirian nemesis wishes to be--a 20th century Akhenaten? Have they split into living out two fantasy lives--one as a masculine ruler with political power, and one as a feminine religious leader?

Don't know. Just know that the reality of my body sure is not anything grand or special, but I am not going to fly off into the luciferian machine fantasy land to cover for the fact that my body is broken and mutilated.

One last word--I read yesterday's post, and it clear that it needs serious editing. I apologize. When I am healthy, I don't write that poorly. I know that my writing is rough and unedited, but that is because this blog is more of a personal journal than a medium for others to read. But when I realized that only the bad guys were able to read my thoughts, I decided to put them out there for everybody. So I admit, that normally, my writing is sloppy and slapdash-y, but yesterday's writing was just tortured, and full of long, bad sentences. The worst part of it, is that I really worked at crafting those sentences, but it doesn't show at all. I apologize--just felt like I had to say something, no matter how poorly. (For those few who still have the gift of critically reading a text, it would be interesting to compare it with other writing to see how the psychotropic drugs are affecting my ability to communicate).