Strange nights and stranger days

Strange nights and stranger days...

Last night I had such an active dream, that I woke up feeling as though I had not gone to sleep at all. After writing about my complete repudiation of Arthur Clark's/the Freemason vision of the future, I dreamed that I was fighting a HUGE, mean python, who kept trying to bite me. I knew that I could not wrestle the snake into captivity by myself, but though a group of men (er, males) were standing there watching me, not one had the manhood to intervene and help me--even though clearly this snake was a demonic being which was their enemy as much as mine. However, as I have experienced so often in the past, when there are no men around to help, one can usually find a woman with the ballsy courage and urgent understanding of what needs to be done, to show up and help me. So it was last night. I don't know who was the woman who helped me last night. I don't know if it was a human woman or an alien woman, but whoever it was, I owe you a profound debt of gratitude for I could not have subdued that demonic snake by myself. In my dream, I was trying to capture it into a plastic grocery bag, but I knew that was too flimsy, so the woman showed up with an old-style flour sack made of cloth. In the dream, we were successful, though I wondered how such a huge, writhing, biting snake could fit into such a small flour sack. That snake symbolizes the reptilian demons that have made a pact with MACHINE RA and its devotees to divvy up the human race--some for the Borg, some to be used as psychic and physical food for reptiles. To the males who stood by and did nothing, you owe a debt of thanks to that women, too--for undoubtedly if those reptilian demons are successful, you will be marked for consumption.

The dream didn't end there, though the rest of the dream is fuzzy. I remember it as something that the snake was found in a parked car that belonged to me, but had been sitting on the street for a long time, while I literally could not access it, but had to walk everywhere on foot. The males who did nothing to help fight the python, wanted to slam the car with heavy fines. I told them that was not fair, because I have been prevented from accessing the car and therefore could not monitor it, or drive it anywhere. To me, that part of the dream signifies that circumstances and oppression by negative aliens have effectively cut me off from an active ego (the car is the symbol of the ego). Instead, I am handicapped (having to walk), oftentimes barely able to even function, while I go about my salvation, and work for the salvation of humanity, WITH NO ASSISTANCE AT ALL. I am not complaining. I am used to flying solo, and having to do what needs to be done all by myself, but don't penalize me for a menace that attains lethal size and power, because I am so hobbled and sickened by all the drugs and adverse, draining circumstances, that I cannot do proper maintenance on my own psyche and ego (car).

I defy anyone to withstand even a 1/3 of the drugs, mutilation, isolation, and manipulated, circumscribed life circumstances that I have to endure without going insane or flipping to the evil side. Honestly, I don't think that anyone else could do it. Anyway, no sooner do I slay one dragon than another one rears its ugly head. I am missing time today--about an hour, I think. When I came home from my bike ride, I took a teaspoon of the creatine supplement that I had bought at the store where I get my testosterone tablets. Of course, I have always known the T-tabs I buy are adulterated with psychotropic poison. Since my last transaction, I am now CERTAIN that it is staffed by the "dog" Sirians and humans who are Ammon-RA devotees. However, the need for testosterone supplementation is so strong sometimes, that I must take the tabs, though they have the negative side effects of an electro-magnetic blast that handicaps and sickens me.

I think the creatine, which costs me over ten bucks (all the thousands of dollars I have wasted trying to save and protect myself from these dog Sirians....) was laced with a powerful psychotropic, and while sitting on my stoop, I lost consciousness--and time--for an hour or so of my life. Of course, I was stalked by the dog Sirians and their human allies on the bike ride, but that is status quo, so much so that I do my best to completely ignore them and their stupid ass, mind control games. However, I was briefly caught off guard when I saw what I knew to be a Sirian alien, dressed up as a genial, bearded homeless man. Because I think it was an alien who helped me in my desperate fight last night (Salusa?), I was friendly to him, as I biked by. However, MY BAD, I ignored the most important clue that presented itself to me--the well-fed, handsome dog (Salusa is a cat-identified Sirian). Even more telling, I recognized that dog. That dog is the pet of a truly schizophrenic woman who often just hangs out at the same spot, by the bridge, every day. She and the dog are well-fed, because the passer-bys in cars recognize how ill the woman is, and often stop to give her food and money. Her dog is well mannered and patient, and I always say a prayer for whenever I see them.

Get it? It was the schizoid woman's dog...not only are these Sirians shape shifters, they are the Agent Smiths from "The Matrix". The dog Sirian, Agent Smith, had taken over the body of the schizoid woman. Wow...was I blown away--just another incredulity from "The Matrix" positively confirmed by my own personal experience. Of course, I had known that these dog Sirians were masquerading as my neighbors, but I thought that there was some complicating effort involved. Nope...they can take over and shape shift into a human body on a dime (maybe, it needs to be a weak minded or spiritually bankrupt person--don't know). There is no use in my trying to run from Agent Smith. Besides, they are trying to woo me, and lead me to plug into the MACHINE. You see, I may have vanquished a demonic reptile last night, but these dog Sirians still think that they can get me to plug into the MACHINE--be their Isis and live in virtual reality bliss with RA. Well, all you dogs and Amon-RA devotees out there, hear this loud and clear--NO FUCKING WAY!!!! I hate everything you have done to me, and my body and my brain, and I want no part of your brainwashing, mind programming agenda. I don't want to be in this mutilated, big-boobed body, I don't want to have this virus in me, I don't want to hang out with dog Sirians, and Amon-RA people give me the creeps, and most certainly, I do not want to be handicapped and confined to a wheelchair. However, even now, they are attempting to intimidate me by their sky presence. I have learned that their UFO's hide themselves with dark skies, thunder and lightning (they are the ones responsible for all the hurricanes and tornados--of course HAARP really helps them along). Well, I live in the desert so rain is always appreciated, but you dog Sirians and Agent Smiths need to go wherever the demon reptile did.

Apparently, these negative Sirians have two timelines of me--one as a physiclally handicapped female, and one as a Black man. What I want to know is if I am free to choose a third option? If not, I will do whatever needs to happen to save the planet Earth, and our humanity. I can guarantee you that the former option will not happen, and the latter option has major obstacles, because I will never compromise my commitment to the truth and a constantly overarching spiritual discipline to be a better human. However, no matter what, Arthur Clark's and the Freemason vision must not be allowed to happen.