Further revelations of abuse by a NWO slave--I always try to keep myself going by reflecting on how bad other people have it. Thus, the recent movie about Henri Young, the Alcatraz inmate, who was beaten, driven insane by 3 years of solitary confinement in a "hole" without light, mattress, or toilet, and tortured to death by sadistic guards, recently had me thinking, "well, it could be worse." I have not yet been driven insane, though certainly my emotional and mental well-being is not as omnipresent as it once was. Then this morning, I read of Jaycee Dugard's interview of her 18 years of captivity by a sick rapist, and realized that while she had an outstanding emotional capacity to cope and survive, the woman had the smallest sliver of life present to her, with no mental or broad psychological life. Like Casey Anthony, she seemed to use the love and care of her young daughters, as an anchor and impetus for meaning and purpose. Maybe that is a feminine strength--certainly it seems to have works for billions of women, as they have suffered centuries of patriarchal confinement and abuse. I know it would never work for me--I could not bear not having an actively inquisitive and acquiring mental life, nor could I bear being cooped up in a tiny little world. To some extent, the latter is true, and the thought of it certainly depresses me, but at least I can use the Internet to help create an active mental and imaginative life in order to ease my suffering to some extent (in my teens, I used books, but with all the drugs and heavy metal poisoning, I no longer can read).
However, I AM a slave to the psychic communities and secret societies, all devoted to the occult practice and extraterrestial contact--have no doubts about it. I fear that the model to whom I am being groomed to most nearly conform in character is that of "La Femme Nikita". Nikita's fictional story has several variations--the most recent one on Fox isn't worth watching. The one I like the most was a TV show from a few years ago, of which I was able to watch a few episodes on the Internet. The story of Nikita is that of a young killer (under extenuating, and very possibly, completely exonerating, circumstances, but what does an 18-year old, runaway street kid know?), who is offered pardon and protection from prosecution, so long as she consents to joining a black ops, "rogue" intelligence agency. Now this particular agency is not as evil as some of the really hateful cabal cliques, but still she has to undertake unsavory actions, such as killing others, which bothers her conscience, and which she doesn't want to do, but she is constrained from free choice by her virtual slavery in this cabal. I have not watched enough of the show to see if she ever seriously entertains the possibility of escape, but where could she go? The agency she works for can track her anywhere, and any authority to which she turns, will either throw her in jail to prosecute for murder, or contact the intelligence agency. Poor Nikita is trapped. A virtual slave to the black ops agency, which protects and provides for her, just so long as she does their dirty work bidding. Such is my current circumstance, though I rail against it in these blogs. However, I am no fool. I know that the circulation of this blog is restricted to the very same psychic communities and secret societies that vie for ownership rights of my gifts, allegiance, and even my soul. I DON'T TRUST ANY OF THEM! They have ALL been proactively involved in mind control games, non-consensual placement of psychotronic implants, forced drugs, and egregious abuse of not only my civil rights as an American citizen, but also my free will, which was bestowed upon me as my spiritual birthright, as a human being, from Almighty God.
Well, I am not 18 years old, and I am not yet compromised by my consent to cooperation with any of these occult-preoccupied agencies or factions, even if unconsciously, I have helped some of them. For there IS a moral distinction to be made among these various agencies and factions, as they are taking different sides in the cosmic struggle of good vs. evil that is occurring all around us, of which 99%+ of the world is completely unaware. Up until about a year ago, if I had been approached as, and treated like, a free human being, I very likely would have given conscious, if reluctant, and possibly conditional assent to join. That ship has sailed. It pulled out of the port the night I was castrated, and the nearly year long, series of mutilating horrors that has been forced upon my nearly destroyed body, has left me far adrift on the ocean, a freelancing pirate, who will never trust any port operated by any occult community or faction. The life of a pirate is hard and short, but it still beats what I have experienced at the hands of even the best of these psychic factions. I can not join a community which stands by, playing mind control and political correctness games, while that person is in imminent danger. As any reader can probably tell by my "big (writing) mouth", it is incumbent on me as a MAN to work to alert, fight for, and save any innocent life possible. I could never stand by in silence while I knew that someone was being abused--especially if it happened over the course of months. Nor could I ever give brotherhood or full trust to anyone who would proactively participate in the bodily destruction of my hermaphroditic form, as God created me, all because they don't like my self-identity and choices (especially lesbian). My lesbian identity and choices are mine, and are those of a mature, deeply spiritual person who came to them the hard way, through years of psychological and spiritual pain and discernment, and anybody who would disregard that, so that I meet their standards of who I should be (their little patriarchal "girl" onto whom they can project their immature patriarchal fantasies), has failed to meet my standards of what a MAN is, and the code of mature human behavior. Sure, most people in the world fail to meet my standards, but I only interact, casually and civilly, with most people in the world. I did spend a portion of my life investigating entering a religious community, and horrified and abused by their disrespect of me, I lost ALL interest. I have never asked to enter any psychic or occult community or faction; instead the unrelenting and destructive hazing I have gone through at their hands has all been initiated by them, and it still is ongoing.
Last night, they cut on both my knees and my thigh. This morning, I am hobbling, and in severe nerve pain on my left thigh. What they did was remove muscle from around my knees, thus leaving it weaker and debilitated (it was the second time they cut my knees). Why did they do this? My guess is that yesterday evening, when the viral download was so heavy that it put me in a psychotic, "out-of-mind-with-pain" state, I twice nearly fell to the ground when my leg gave way beneath me. Slavemasters as they are, they probably assumed it was the knees. Wrong, it is the ankles that give way without warning, when the viral download hits--which they could have found out if (oh my God--imagine the preposterous thought of treating someone in a female body as deserving of the rights they would accord a man!), they had treated me as human being, instead of a slave. Now, my knees are even weaker than before, so much that I cannot walk without hobbling, or stand in a regular stance.
So, who is doing all this? The least negative of Faction 2. I was fairly sure that my daughter's exit from the duplex apt. was replaced by another F2 contingent, though I wasn't sure how negative or positive they were...I am now sure that the men (they tag team, though there seems to be one ongoing presence) living next to me are the occult/psychic faction most readily successful in the fight against evil. They also are the ones, which were using me as a supremely efficacious "point man", all the while they actively conspired and consented, with the Salusians, to the destruction of my physical body--these are the same psychics who have a problem with my lesbianism, and seem to be enraptured by the "girl-child" saint, Therese of Liseux's, pollyanna-ish juvenilia, which MACHINE-RA was downloading into my sleeptalking at night.
Some time ago, back in May, I realized that not only, had I had been stupidly cooperating with the very men, I WAS BEING USED. For these were the same patriarchal men who had worked to destroy my physical body, and my natural high-energy state, in order that I be forced to fit their conception of what a "woman" (which I am not, and no longer will claim as a ready self-identity, though for years, after major psychological and spiritual work and compromise, I did) should be. I further realized that my cooperation was part of an immature need for respect from my own father, and having done so, decided to quit. I don't think that I have been involved in any major engagements since that decision, but I know that it is not a hardfast one. Because I am a MAN (mensch), I will always be prone to active and immediate response, should I see the need for assistance by those who share my values in fighting evil, and yes indeed, there is a consummate evil threatening the cosmos.
However, I am no longer certain that this faction is fighting the consummate evil.
I am fairly sure that Salusa and his band of demons are still abducting me--so that yesterday, I had the cranial and eye shape alterations. As a side note, it is interesting to note, that after raging against the changes, and the resulting severe autism that they caused, the lump in the forehead, and most--but not all--of the eyelid changes disappeared. The changes were replaced were black lines running from my forehead to the inner eye, giving me a serious "black eye" look. It is as if the implants or "metal worms" put in my forehead were destroyed--whether by my own rage or the least negative clique of F2, I am not sure. For they ARE protecting me--not only from F1 or the reptilians (their hated enemy), but also from other, more negative factions. A few nights ago, when I slept outside because the girl from the Lemuurian/Asian faction had dropped an energy weapon into my basement, they removed it. I think that they also tried to clear some of the excessive heavy metal poison from my brain, in an abduction, while I slept. I AM grateful for the protection, but I know that this factions past actions indicate that they do not share the entirety of my value system, which always respects the free will of an individual, REGARDLESS OF ANY CATEGORIZATION OF "OTHERNESS"--GENDER, RACE, RELIGION, NATIONALITY, SEXUAL ORIENTATION, ETC, and I can never be part of any community which could have abused me, OR ANYONE, as badly as they have.
Then there is the question I am asking myself--where do they stand in regard to Salusa? Is it Salusa abducting me, or is this next door faction 2 element abducting me and turning me over to Salusa? There is a small, but admitted chance that I could be wrong, but I think Salusa is a lying devil. Literally. At best, he is a thoroughly unscrupulous, higher dimensional being of immense power which he uses to serve himself and his agenda--which is why he cut up my body and messed with my brain and face so badly. Now, while there are humans who act in such a manner, the general thought is that they are criminal, and most definitely not "angelic", unless, of course, they are fallen from God's grace, and to me, that is what the evidence indicates. I successfully fought off some higher dimension being a few days ago. Why can Salusa still abduct me?
I am still pondering those questions, but I have gotten some further answers as to the state of my suffering. There is an energy weapon directed at me by the F2 neighbor. I guess the point is, to make me susceptible to astral abduction, my free will and consent, be damned! However, they want "to control" (my God, what control freaks these psychic/occult communities are) the energy weapon directed at me, so they removed the one that nearly killed me. After all, what good am I to them, if I am dead? It does no good to tell them (after all, I am their slave--THEY decide what is good for me, which usually means that decisions are made on the basis of what is good for THEM!). For the energy weapon that they use to change the brain frequency, which makes for easier astral travelling, causes heavy metal buildup in the brain, and as an autistic, my body and brain CANNOT TOLERATE OR EXCRETE heavy metal as most people can do. So, for the past 5 or 6 years, I have been systematically and slowly POISONED to the point of death. The heavy metals killed much of my healthy muscle tissue and also a significant portion of my neural cells. In the beginning of the poisoning, I would force myself to work out and do yoga, although my capacity for exercise diminished steadily. However, it wasn't until this past year, when the mutilations began in earnest, when not only was the dead muscle cut away, but also LIVING muscle and bone, including an entire set of ribs, that the body no longer was able to do any kind of even moderate exercise. For the entire body has had its natural energy patterns completely cut off and disrupted, so that there is no natural energy flow or response. The muscles are so poorly fitted together, so that the body no longer works properly at all. My arms are bizarrely akimbo to the body, and unable to do certain, even basic functions like zip my pants or wipe my ass, because my shoulders are stumps. The lower back, glutes, and pelvis area is a mess, with none of the proper musculature and response. Waking up with severe back pain yesterday, I tried to do a cobra pose, and found that my legs were so unnaturally fitted into the pelvis, that the lower legs couldn't even touch the floor, no matter how hard I tried, while the thighs only partially did. I look like what I am--a short, fat, little man, stuffed miserably into a grotesque parody of a female body--no doubt that is what Dog Dung Doug found so funny. Oh, but now that I am mutilated, miserable, and barely functional, the patriarchal men finally find me acceptably "feminine" --at least that is what I gather from their continuing hazing.
To assist them in their efforts, they use psychotropic drugs, and yesterday, I got a huge shock! I recognized the same damned psych that I saw years ago, when the lithium poisoning first began! (Lithium is a metal--get it, you dumb fucks. My body and brain can't handle heavy metal. You would think you would get it after years, and literally dozens of times that I have been force fed that shit!). You think that the sons of bitches would have a little remorse and humility after you nearly killed me on the shit 4 or 5 years ago, when I barely saved my own life, going a thousand dollars in debt, moving from motel to motel for over a month, hoping to escape the poison. I may have saved my life, but not before irreparable damage. Not only had the lithium and heavy metal killed off healthy muscle tissue in a body that was then in near perfect condition, but it also had done permanent damage. At that point, I had nearly 100% verbal fluency, often seeing multiple synonyms instantaneously flash in my brain, from which to choose. Now, I have to struggle and grapple for the word I want to say or write, often with frustration and lack of success, something I never have experienced since childhood. I have lost my ability to "see" the words in my brain (because I am autistic, I learned to talk by reading the symbology of words in my own brain), but amazingly enough, other people can! The lithium and heavy metal killed off entire colonies of brain neurons. YOU FRIED MY BRAIN YOU FUCKER, LEAVING IT PERMANENTLY DISABLED, AND I AM GODDAMNED PISSED OFF ABOUT IT, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!
Yes, I am referring to one specific individual. Even though it has been years since I saw him, I recognized him yesterday. I don't know his name, so I will call him "Mr. Psych-bossPOS" The first time that I saw Mr. Psych-bossPOS was years ago, in the early stages of the lithium poisoning. I was still struggling to work, but was so sick one day, that I had to call in sick. However, I was on a special pre-plan offer (this was years ago) with the cell phone company, and the bill could only be paid on the day that it was due, or else it messed up the plan. Unfortunately, I could not use the phone on the day that the bill was due, so for a brief period every month, I was without service, until I went to the store and paid the bill. Well, I was too sick to drive the 15 miles to my workplace, but my conscientious work ethic insisted that I called in, so I got up and drug myself to the cell phone store, so sick I could barely hold my head up. While waiting to be assisted, I saw Mr. Psych-bossPOS staring at me. I remember his balding head and mustache. I remember the look that he directed at me. HE was angry at ME! He had no neutral scientific observation going on. He had absolutely no concern, regard, or even awareness of how sick I really was. In an intuitive flash, I knew that this man didn't give a shit about me as a suffering human being, or even a scientific/medical professional solicitude that he make a correct diagnosis. Instead, he was angry at me, because he thought that I was "faking it" or exaggerating my illness, which he regarded as an affront to his professional pride!!! That is what Mr. Psych-bossPOS is all about--an incredibly small minded man with an obsessive need to be proved right.
A doctor is a medical SCIENTIST. They are supposed to rationally (neutrally) observe what is really going on, make diagnosis, and prescribe treatments accordingly. They adjust or discontinue/continue any diagnosis/ treatments based on an honest appraisal of the results of sny treatment. Dr. Psych-bossPOS is a totally crap doctor. He is not capable of rationally assessing the results of his treatment. His immature, personal pride is too much involved for him to be able to make such an honest assessment. I saw that in an intuitive flash that day.
You know, a lot of doctors suffer from professional pride, and this is understandable given the years of study and rigorous training they undergo to get their MD. Given all the abuse I have encountered at the hands of medical doctors in the past few years, I recognize when an instant or superficial diagnosis/treatment is prescribed with scant regard to the patient as a participating subject in their own health treatment. I blame the AMA/medical school orientation for much of this. The practice of medicine has been infiltrated and taken over by the negative cabal (in this country the Rockefeller/Big Pharma cabal), so that it has become a mind-control profession, as the clergy was for centuries. Certainly, I have suffered it as well. I am a little bit "different" in personality, so there must be some diagnosis that justifies some pharmaceutical, which will make me "normal".
Trust me, this man, Dr. Psych-bossPOS doesn't suffer from even this professional pride. It is personal. In the intuitive flash that I got of him at the store, I could see that he is such a warped, sick human being, that he HAS to be right or it destroys his own deficient ego esteem. His anger at me that day was pathological. He is so sick and weak, that there is no doubt in my mind that he would rather see me essentially destroyed (in the same way that Salusa had to essentially destroy me, in order to feel comfortable with me) than to be wrong. It is personal. A weak, evil person (again, my mother--I attract these beings like flies), needs to destroy what is stronger, healthier, happier than them. They don't want to kill me--just make me less than fully alive, so that they can be satisfied with the own limited lot in life they have chosen for themselves.
I gained further insight into him, later, when I read or watched vido of either Burisch or the pony-tailed white haired whistleblower, who were talking about medical doctors who work for these black ops agencies. I think it was in regard to the medical abuse experienced by a Gray, and I think that I saw that abuse. There is a video floating around the web, and a "Gray" is trying to psychically communicate with a human "captor" (certainly, it was not an equal or free relationship). The Gray was in distress, and the concern is that the blood vessels in their eyes pop under severe duress, so the human psychic called for a medic, who grabbed him roughly and shone a flashlight in his eyes, without any regard of solicitude or concern. I think there is a 90%+ probability that video is true. Looking at that video, I consider the treatment of that Gray to be unacceptably inhumane. Even assuming worst case scenario, that this Gray is an enemy of the US and humanity, no sentient being deserves to be treated that way. It is torture. I have nearly had a stroke on several occasions, because the goddamned black ops people are trying to force my brain to communicate on a different level. If that has to be done as part of an interrogation, then at least, they should be treated like sick and injured beings, when even the interrogator feels the need for medical intervention, not like an unfeeling, soulless lump of flesh you shove around. I know some Grays don't have soul, but soulless beings don't suffer. This Gray was clearly suffering deeply.
Anyway, the whistleblower was saying that a big problem at these black ops facilities was that the medical staff were so sub par. As he mentioned, "no respectable doctor would be involved in this kind of secretive, black ops work, so instead they get the scrapings from the absolute bottom of the barrel--doctors which would not be able to find work any place else for any length of time". Once I listened to, or read that, I KNEW that Dr. Psych-bossPOS fitted into that category of substandard medical doctor who was such a poor practitioner, he would not be able to find employment elsewhere--which of course exacerbates the wounded self-esteem that I sensed years ago. One last interesting story about this encounter. As I was sitting there waiting for the doctor, an ill-looking woman (very pale and strained), asked me, how I was feeling. I said, "not so good". She asked if I had cancer, and I said no, that I didn't know what was wrong with me, but that I was very sick. She replied, I can tell by looking at you that you are very sick. You know, I have cancer, and am undergoing chemo, and let me tell you, that there are bad days, but there are good days. You have to fight through the bad days, so that you can live the good ones". I would be very surprised if that woman had even a year of college, but she, in her untrained, lay compassion, could see the extent of my suffering, whereas Dr. Psychboss-OS, with all his education and training, was completely oblivious to it. And I do mean oblivious...I don't think the suffering of a person enters his frame of reference when assigning either diagnosis, treatment or disposition.
For this was not the only indication that he would have had as to how suffering and sick I really was. Two weeks after a brief physical with an MD (one of those who suffer the genuine version of professional PRIDE--not PROFESSIONAL pride), I went back for my muscles had been completely spasmed and locked, so that I could barely turn my torso (keep in mind the first time I saw her, I had demonstrated a very high degree of flexibility--I was doing yoga 3X's a week). The lithium had started. She ignored me. I got sicker, and went back and asked for a cat scan, because I knew something was not right with my brain. No empathy whatsoever (at this point I had written off the doctor, but I was desperate to find out what was going on with me). No change. I became sicker and sicker, taken to motel hopping and sleeping in a campground in winter weather, in order to avoid the environmental poison that I knew was slowly killing me (I knew that they sprayed it on me at work, as well, but I HAD to work, or I would have no money). I became increasingly catatonic, and knew that soon, I would no longer be able to work. I wanted to go to the desert to either heal or die, but before I did, I went for a new pair of glasses. The eye doctor found what other doctors and cat scans couldn't--that there was massive swelling in my brain. So began a couple of years of healing, and various treatments, finally culminating in surgery on my one optic nerve. The other needs it, but I am terrified to go under anesthesia, because it was during this surgery that implants were put in me. So you see, not only in my blog do I rant about my sufferings, but there has been plenty of medical corroboration. So imagine my surprise, not only at the stupidity of completely recycling dozens of times, drug treatments, that these PIBs know don't work, but to see my original nemesis, parked in my parking spot when I came home! He was visiting the neighbor, and I guess wanted to assess me visually (you POS, your diagnostic vision is absolutely blind. It wouldn't matter if I were two inches from you. You have ignored repeated--as in literally dozens--indicators that all your psychotropic treatments are disastrous. You have medically presided over my disintegration from someone who was in near peak physical fitness and health (a little overweight), with a productive and joyful life and love of neighbor and self, into a pathetic wreck of flesh, whose near daily exercise and book reading routines are extinct. I have no flexibility, no stamina, no energy, no strength--none. I live to die to escape from this miserable existence, so I guess you can be happy now that you have doctored me into something that more resembles yourself. Congratulations. You may be a worthless piece of shit as a medical doctor, but you certainly have succeeded in your ultimate objective.