Well, I was wrong

Well, my hypothesis was wrong--it wasn't Maurice Strong who told the Chinese of the entrance to Shamhala. I kinda sorta was on the right track, but it doesn't matter. The people who matter got it right, along with a lot more. While saddened that a so-called religious leader would sell out so cheaply to the powers of evil--for a paltry one million dollars (shades of Judas, anyone?)--I can only be overjoyed that the missing Stargate and/or weapon is back in the hands of the Forces of the Good. That is, I would be overjoyed if I could experience any emotions, for the implants and viral downloads have left me not only physically incapacitated but deeply depressed. So the most I can muster is a sense of satisfaction and numb gratitude, like a dying soldier on the battlefield who has just been told the battle is won. Nice to know I didn't suffer/die in vain.

I am not exaggernating the extent of my current dilemma and depression. I just tried to read a couple of chapters of scripture to reference an article I was reading. Now, ever since these viral downloads began, I have quit reading scripture because not only do I find it difficult to read, but the implants make it impossible to enter into the contemplative state necessary for prayer (or reading poetry, for that matter). Howver, my mind is steeped in scripture. I studied it in depth, in multiple classes at university, and I have spent years reading, pondering, and praying on it on a regular basis. So nowadays, when I pick up a bible, it is not for contemplative reading, but for reference, which I have usually been able to do because of the rich contemplative history and understanding I already bring to the text. But today, as I went to read Is 19 and Rv 12, I literally could make no sense of the well-known written words in any kind of meaningful way. It was nonsense. This handicap to read contemplatively is the absolute worst it has ever been. Before, there was no emotional or soulful reasonance with scriptural or poetic text; now there is no intellectual reasonance either. I still can read for short, brief periods of time on the web, before being overwhelmed, but my ability to think through ideas and possibiliies to a logical and true conclusion is gone. My conscious mind, normally so teeming and fertile, is now barren and sterile, unable to access my unconscious mind. Is it any surprise that I am deeply depressed?

Physically, I am in the worst shape of my life. The implants cause me to walk around with the symptomology of a "dry" migraine (which on occasion, goes real). That is, I cannot bear much stimuli at all. Yesterday, I removed my sunglass shield from my eyeglasses, as it was deep twilight, but as soon as I did, I beame severely autistic. The dark glasses were preventing me from being autistically overwhelmed by stimuli, so that for instance, I looked down and saw literally thousands of individual blades of grass, instead of a dark, bloblike field. When this happens, the brain becomes overwhelmed and literally has to shut down (first thing that shuts is the eyes, so I walk around with my eyes shut). I can no longer exercise because I feel so bad physically and mentally. My favorite default exercise was bicycling, but I never know, now when the viral downloads is going to hit me so hard that I become barely functional. That is a scary, challenging feeling when it happens miles from home. So now, I am trying to walk at a local park for an hour a day. I can drive and park my truck in the parking lot, so if I become overwhelmed, I have easy access to a relatively safe exit to reality--home, with a sheet wrapped around my head, which for some reason, helps the autistic brain. But even my walks are really challenging. I suffer from chronic back pain, and now my ribs and whatever muscles I have left in my trunk are sore and locked with lactic acid. It is getting harder and harder to move at all. Then there is the constant luciferian and patriarchal bullshit with which I am constantly confronted. Of course, everywhere I go, and even in my home, I am constantly bombarded by remote viewers, with a whole range of motive, from benevolent to deeply malevolent. Still, it really pisses me off when a remote viewer comes into my field of vision, and I can tell that they are scanning my mind for whatever bit of info they can find. I also am pissed off at their hamhanded psychops bullshit (maybe not so hamhanded, but I am so experienced now at detecting it). The latest psychops they are pouring on is the "ain't heterosexual love grand?" scenario. I have seen this many times before, when I was deeply in love with Augusta. Then the players were Catholic Christians; now they are luciferians and their dupes. So let me inform you of a truth that you straight sobs, don't even realize, because you take it so much for granted. The beauties and joys of heterosexual are constantly bombarding me, and have been for years--in books, movies, Tv, and everyday reality. Like many LGBT people, part of the reason I felt alienated from reality as a youth and young adult was because I rarely had the opportunity to see the beauties and joy of gay love, which is how I knew from a very early age that I lived and loved. This is a truly painful experience. I always remember what I saw graffitied on a bathroom wall in the Castro District, the gay mecca, of San Francisco. Of course, I was in a special kind of reality heaven, because for once I wasn't in the minority, but was the norm. Colleen and I stopped to eat at a burger/pub joint whose motif was the collegiate style of raw, unfinished wood with multiple grafittis scrawled on every scrap of surface. I went to the restroom, and saw where some straight person had grafittied their sense of alienation in a neighborhood where I felt perfectly at home. They had drawn a heart and inside the heart, placed a male and female symbol, with the below caption reading, "AND PROUD." Well, guess what? Every LGBT person has to learn how to positively accept their defensiveness regarding their sexual orientation at a very early age, and I already crossed the hurdle. You stupid dumb fucks, I am not lesbian because I don't appreciate heterosexual love. I am lesbian because my being celebrates gay love. Furthermore, I will let you in on a secret. When I am full of love, because I love myself and because I am thrilled every time I feel a sexual response to a woman, heterosexual love delights me. No, I don't share it, but I am so full of love in myself that I can only be expanded and joy-filled by another's love. However, when I am denied my right to love, and made to feel ashamed and penalized for my love, then I have no joyful response to another's love. The other point I would make, is that if you knew me AT ALL, you would know that I often am stirred by heterosexual love, just as I am by every other conceivable instance of love. But goddamned theatrics and drama, especially at the service of psychops, leaves me stone cold, and resentful, especially when I see that another is allowed to be free in relationship and love, and I am not. So keep your goddamned heterosexual lover actors out of my range. I prefer the real thing. For that matter, I prefer the real thing in all areas of reality. I've got a multitude of people playing every conceivable kind of psychops game imaginable with me, to gauge my response, but not one of them man or woman enough to relate to me in reality. But I don't deal in psychops games. I am a mystic. I am open to the fullness of reality, and the more people relate to me from that reality, instead of some bullshit game, while they try to figure out my mind and emotions, the more honestly I will respond. Scriputre says, "Deep calls out unto the deep;" well, guess what, bullshit calls out unto bullshit.


Anyway, I have to find a reason to live, to hope when I feel so badly. I really don't expect there to be any change in my circumstances for a very long time. I keep remembering what Gabe said (go smoke on that, you luciferian mind readers), and I have to believe that one day I will be free of these implants. And as an aside, I will never interdimensionally travel until I am free of these implants. My brain is naturally the way, that the implants prep the brain, so all they do is make me autistic and very ill, barely functional. I am capable of interdimensional travel without any implants, quite naturally, but I will not even make the attempt until I am in a safe place, and allowed to be my lesbian self. Needless to say, I am surrounded by evil and patriarchal men who are incapable of respecting the fullness of humanity on which I insist...since they can't accept the fullness of my being, they keep whittling it down and whittling it down, hoping to get a girl child goddess image they can idolatrize (control, is a better word) in their mind, so they don't have to do the hard work of realizing their own fullness of being.

Well, one thing is for sure--I have no fullness of being now. I am barely functional, and have lost most of my strength, beauty and self-esteem, but I will count on what Gabe said, and keep trying my best to keep my body as healthy as possible.