Beautiful day

Beautiful day--at least from my window. Normally, such a day would have me running, jumping, skipping, cycling, and praising God, while I sang offkey, but that seems a lifetime ago. My legs are now severely handicapped, and my body has lost not only its beauty (thanks to the goddamned cranial and facial alterations), but also all of its joy, strength, and spring. Of course, that is not by accident, but by design. Patriarchal men are not happy until they confine and depress women, and if one is naturally a joyous and strong erotic spirit, why, there is always mutilation to destroy the beauty and strength that such warped men can not appreciate, because they do not uncover their own such qualities in themselves. I hope to try to start walking again, maybe in a couple of weeks, but there is no way I can do that right now with my knees in the weakened condition that they are in. I am afraid of blowing out a knee walking in my own home. No, I am going to have to rehab the knees and try to build up what little leg/quad/hamstring muscle I have left by low reps on the machines. Because my knees/legs/body are so fragile, it will take a while. But the thought of being trapped in a freakish, fat, semi-invalidic body is just too crushing of a thought to bear.

So I spend my time surfing the web and playing solitaire. The viral implants and psychotropics (as well as the condition of my own mutilated body) has left me severely depressed, and even the things that normally give me joy, like listening to music, leave me stone cold.

But I keep plowing ahead, with ideas fermenting in my head (not very well--everything is now slow and laborious--all the better for the remote viewers to spy on me) on a couple of different posts--one about the extraterrestial agenda, and the more pressing one of how the world is on the cusp of WWIII--and no one seems to even notice it--except maybe Sorcha Faal! I am never sure of how much to write, because I don't want the bad guys to know how my mind thinks and works--not out of some desire to be proprietarily snobbish or arrogant, but only because I don't want them to counteract. Still, I'll probably have to write something down---but I'm not ready to, and won't be for a while--lot of stuff to sift and percolate. I suppose I should feel a greater sense of urgency, but I guess it is the depression that kind of drags at my drive and ambition. It's a terrible thing for a sensitive soul like myself to feel this lethargic passivity instead of my usual dynamism to move, to figure things out and make connections (the lack of testosterone agaon?). I don't know. God, and his servants at the Patriot Leadership Team will have to keep the world safe, while I suffer and hobble through this terrible depression and alienation. On top of everything else, A wicked CME is supposed to wallop Earth tomorrow. Every time that happens, I get dysfunctionally sick. I have two very opposing theories for why that is, but because they are so opposite and contradicting, I will wait before opining on that.

As for now, I am going to go sit for a half hour or so in the sun (Vitamin D is always good), and smoke a cigarillo I bought the other day. Almost certainly, it will make me asthmatic and congested for a few days, but what the hell--my body is a worthless trash dump for the satanists/luciferians anyway....Stay tuned--maybe a few days.


PS--Back to work, after being ELFed twice, during my cigarette break, buzzed by a helicopter. I am pretty sure I was ELFed. I've been drugged and lethargic all day, but now am severely autistic---fortunately my netbook is tiny. When I am autistic, the smaller my field of view, the better. But the question is why would they bother to send a helicpter to ELF me, when they can trip my viral implants at any time? The only reason I can figure out is that they like to play mind control games with me. Oh well, I can't do anything about NWO helicopters and brain implants. Just leaves me more resolved to work on something I can do something about. Back to work, pain or not, autistic or not--lots of autistic researchers out there.