I have a lot of misplaced anger, even fury, continuing into today. As per my post from yesterday, the anger is caused by excessive estrogen. Yes, I have an incredible amount of testosterone flowing through me, but testosterone, by itself, does not make me angry--it is when the EXCESS ESTROGEN is combined with the testosterone that I become so angry. How can I tell? First off, I literally have trouble thinking through ideas--something which popping testosterone helps. Also, my nose becomes congested, and I get the "slime mouth" and excessive saliva that keeps me spitting every few minutes. Finally, and worst of all, is the excessive vaginal secretions that has me with sticky thighs and dripping wet all day long. I know it is not pleasant to read about it, so imagine how I feel having to experience it all day long.
Then, to really top off my temper, I knew immediately that when I went to speak with my therapist, that she really wasn't there. Even her trustworthy dog was lying there all doped up. You know, I was going to keep that little tidbit to myself, and throw a huge curve ball the next time I saw her, but it is no use. I am not cool and collected enough to play mind games with these master mind gamers. My strength comes from my utter honesty, and I can only be honest.
But I wasn't honest earlier today--instead I played the fucking mind game, too, even though I knew as soon as I walked in, that my therapist had been replaced with a shape shifting alien. In a way, I am not sorry I played the mind game--I was out, digging for intel, and I got more than I would have received had I not played along.
However, the strain of my anger--caused by the excessive sexual hormones, and this stinger in my brain that has the left side of my scalp, crawling with something akin to a methamphetamine blast (and that is what I emotionally feel like I am on, too--speed), could not be contained. I am dealing with such intense informational input, emotions, and experiences, and I only get to talk, vent and bounce back all this intensity, with ONE person every two weeks (this blog helps me vent, but I can't get feedback from it, to help me tiptoe through the minefield I walk in every single day), AND TODAY, I DIDN'T EVEN GET THAT.
So yes, I was steaming pissed, irrationally pissed, majorly pissed, and displaced pissed. To my credit, I was not enraged out of my mind, which is what the aliens are trying to induce. When I am really angry, I become abnormally quiet and silent. As long as I am yelling and cursing, I still am emoting in a healthy, if albeit, very uncomfortable (to my listener) way. However, the emoting did not really work. Normally, I yell and cuss, and I feel better instantly. Today after all my cussing and all my yelling, I still do not feel better. Partly, I know that there is nothing I can do about the violating abuse they dish out every night and day. These Amon RA aliens and devotees flood me with so much estrogen, and the sex hormones, along with the virus, is attempting to do, and is capable of, a rewriting of my genetic code. NO MALE WANTS TO BE TURNED INTO A FEMALE, and all attempts to do so will cause nothing but fury. I know that this constant assault on my genetic coding by this fricking estrogen is what is enraging me, but I can do nothing about it.
On all sides, I am surrounded by these Amon RA types--and my guess is that the shapeshifter who was mind playing me today, is of the Opus Dei/Jesuit variety (Opus Dei is very involved in this KaBal shit--they are involved with the RA KaBalists of the Middle East--from Camp Ashraf to the KaBal Kurds to the KaBal Persians to the KaBalist Syrian Christians). They are liars and deceivers of the most satanic depths, and now that the al-Qaida leader, their hermaphroditic reptilian queen is dead, all their attention is focused on me, and I am alone. Not only did I miss my biweekly heart to heart with my trusted counselor, but I am isolated in my residence as well. For whatever reason (good or ill) I am alone--my Sirian neighbors have disappeared. My bike was tampered with again--I think a locator device was placed on it, so that they can track me at all times, and that was after I locked it up in the basement. Either, they walked down the outside stairs and opened the lock with impunity, or one of their alien ilk was able to "beam down" and "beam back up" directly into the basement (from what I have witnessed, I suspect the latter). They literally turned off my water while I was soaped up in the shower, and they stalk me everywhere I go.
That is okay--the more I encounter them, the more I learn, and my meager psychic skills learned something from them today, which is why I am taking this time to write this post, even though I feel too ADD to do it. I learned that the Amon RA devotees are positively gleeful that I vented my spleen today--that they want and love to see me so angry that I am steaming. No doubt, but that they hope to use the intense emotion to ride into my mind and hijack my brain, with their MACHINE frequency virus. While I understand this intellectually, it is so hard to respond otherwise emotionally. I am hoping that my own lack of hatred and real rage will protect me from their skillful manipulation of my choleric temperament. Anyway, this is something I have to work on personally.
However, there is another reason for the glee I sensed in so many of the KaBalists today. They are overjoyed that my intemperate, hasty, and ill-chosen words have stirred up a lot of anger and pain. Now overall, I stand by what I said, but I would hope that anyone listening would realize that I am speaking carelessly and even, thoughtlessly. Yes, I do not have the patience to be a counselor for people who need remedial and intensive nurturing and acceptance, but I probably am not going to close down on someone after they get beat by their husband or boyfriend for the third time.
I also am concerned that the KaBalists are taking excessive delight in my straight up commentary on relations between Black men and Black women. Now, I am a very honest observer of human nature and have looked upon this situation many times over the year, so I think I am being fair in my assessment that Black women are not as supported or loved by Black men, GENERALLY SPEAKING, as their White counterparts. However, at the time I was feeling the pain of so many Black women who I have known, and did not speak as inclusively intuitive as I could have. It does no good to pound someone down--the point of constructive criticism is to motivate and inspire to lift up and change behavior, and I am not sure that I did that. I got the psychic feeling that the Amon RA people are delighted that a lot of Black brothers and sisters are angry with each other tonight, and that my words helped fuel that.
Now, having worked for 5 years in an institution with a majority of Black colleagues, I know that the pain and anger between Black men and women runs deep, and yes, I stand by my assertion that GENERALLY SPEAKING, Black women have been doing double duty, while Black males, GENERALLY SPEAKING, avoid responsibility, maturity, and commitment. However, I have seen fights go on between Black men and women--mere acquaintances-- for over a week. It is best just to speak your piece, let out the anger and let it go. Control what you can, and let the rest go. Don't focus on what happened yesterday, but dialogue and work together on how you can make positive changes in the future. And Black women--don't just gripe and complain about your situation but OWN YOUR POWER. White women do. How many white women do you think would put up with the execrable, misogynistic treatment of women in rap? Burn the goddamned CD's rather than have your sons brothers, and husbands listen to that kind of trash that totally demeans women AND MEN, all for a buck (the whole rap/hip hop thing was an Illuminati engineered trap to degrade the Black community, and very few Blacks seem to get it). Speaking for myself, I went out of my room and confronted a teenage girl who was dancing around, rapping to something about "being a pimp". I gave her a little lesson on what a scumbag scoundrel a pimp really is, and that if she did not have enough respect for her own womanhood to not listen to that kind of trash, I did, and I did not want to see her go that route. Of course her irresponsible mother was not happy with me, and asked me within a month to move. A year later she was calling me, complaining about how she was out of control of her daughter, who was stealing vicodin from her purse, she stabbed another girl with a knife, and got pregnant at 15. Geez, I wonder why?
You Black women have got the power. Use it. You may end up lonely and single, but how many of you already are there? Insist upon being treated and respected like a lady--a strong, powerful, androgynous lady, and even if it takes you a while, you will eventually find that men will be attracted to you, and in the meantime don't hesitate to point out to a brother, AT THE TIME, if his actions seem either RACIST or SEXIST to you. Hell, this strategy has worked for me--a short, fat, and really, rather homely lesbian, and I don't even want men to be attracted to me! Finally, don't give the satanists the satisfaction of enjoying your anger and pain--speak your mind and let it go, then move on. Don't dwell in resentment and bitterness. It does no good to resent other people's choices--you can only be happy, proud and staunchly insistent of your own.
Of course, I know that the satanists are enjoying their little treat of watching my anger, but, honestly and truly, I am a much stronger, and more emotionally resilient than most. I am not up against racism or sexism, but of the penultimate in cruelty and evil--a mechanistic satanism fronted by powerful and privileged humans who want to spiritually enslave the human race. Don't follow my example, for I AM PLAYING MIND GAMES, TOO!! I am trying to learn how best to fight the enemy, and I really wish that the toughest enemies I had to fight were racism and sexism. But, it is not, so I go from one day to the next, experimenting with various strategies, trying to stay on top of all the info and insights that come at me, longing for the days when I could trust my inner voice to be that of the Holy Spirit, and not one of the two dozen psychics in my ambit. I have so much that I need to process, and it would be a big mistake to assume that anything I say or write is written in stone, for I know that I am not in a healthy or safe, psychological or spiritual place to make lasting decisions, judgments or resolutions. I am constantly experimenting, trying to get a grip on the nebulous truth of our human history and reality, that is defiantly obscured by the deceptions, lies and mind games of every single (and more advanced) entity which could help to unveil the truth. I have so much to read, research and write about that I am starting to make difficult decisions in prioritization of my agendas (I really do have a lot stirring in the pot--just can't write about them all--but I hope when it is urgently time, the Holy Spirit will pry it out). I do have to say that writing this post makes me feel better--the anger is gone, so even though this post did not really advance much, it was a much needed emotional release for me. Peace.