Finally, a heavy sense of oppression has lifted. I haven't felt like myself, since the trip into the "maw of the Beast" began. I think I signaled a desire for change in alien faction affiliation, back to the (more-positive) dog Sirians, but the truth is, that I really don't know what I am doing. My unconscious guides me, and so it guided me to change the desktop image on my computer, and then I started noticing changes, such as people moving from "Psychic West Apartments", etc.
I do know that consciously I have been miserable for the past several days, and was a little surprised to learn that Faction 2 was "claiming" me. A few posts back, I wrote of the dream I had, where I could "not take my money". Well, when I arrived at the Martian airport, I threw away all the food my mother had given me (didn't trust it not to have sophisticated explosives, with which the KaBal could use to blackmail me), AND I followed my wallet like a hawk. Now normally, I am absent-minded and careless about those details, but after the dream, I was on high alert, and so I zipped up my wallet, carefully into my backpack, and honed in on it, as soon as I cleared the TSA machine. It was gone! I didn't panic. I figured that if the KaBal wanted to coerce me into service, they could plant anything on me, anyway, BUT I WAS NOT GOING TO BACK DOWN FROM EXERCISE OF MY FREE WILL!
So immediately, but calmly, I confronted the TSA officers, and asked how did I put in a claim, in order to get my ID and cash back. After a few minutes, they "found" the wallet, "laying on the floor". Did I stress? No, I fully expected something like this to happen, but after this little episode, I thought that I was "safe"--except that I wasn't.
I arrived "home", but still felt profoundly unsettled and uncomfortable. Now, I know that part of that is my own emotional roller coaster ride. You know, I can penetrate facts and data with razor sharp accuracy, but get my personal emotions involved, and my accuracy of perception zig zags all over the place, until, once again, I find equilibrium.
Well, my emotions are certainly stirred up now, and while they do make me feel more alive and centered at the same time, they also are creating a lot of confusion--because the various factions have figured out that they can motivate and "play" me with my own romantic and sexual feelings for PF. I don't think PF is a player; I just think she is trying to get me to commit to the astral realm, but ever since I engaged in "psychic sex", with some being pretending to be her, I have been wary and paranoid. I am reminded of the mystic from "The Green Mile", executed for trying to save the lives of two murdered girls. He was lonely and lost in the world, which had no place for a gentle, good mystic--especially, when he was a huge Black man with massively, bulging muscles, and he had psychically "read" the act of murder, and how the girls were lured to their death, by the perp playing one off against the other. "That is the way it is all over the world. They use your love to kill you", and so it is. However, the only surefire way to avoid that fate, is to not love, but I have seen what that does, and it is even worse. The Catholic Church and so much of their hierarchy have shut themselves off from love, and it has turned them into satanic monsters and pedophiles. Yet that is what the KaBal wishes for me--to deny my need to love, and be loved, to become alienated and paranoid from love, so that I become the celibate fantasy icon their immature, childish devotees so need.
I am not exaggerating. Remember I spent six months in jail for sending flowers to a woman. Every relationship, even the most casual, or non sexual, has been terminated. Even now, while PF is a neighbor, I have been telepathically told, not to attempt to directly relate to her (the other psychics around me will talk to me--but they can't give up their prime control hold card). Of course, the worst violation in recent memory, was the "psychic sex" incident in which I went actually into reptilian interdimensional space (that in itself, took a lot of emotional energy to figure out--I am being honest--figuring out what is happening to me, emotionally, is the most draining, time-consuming, and unsatisfactory use of my intellectual resources, PERIOD. It takes forever, to figure things out, and make sure that I am not wrong, as I was in the last post, when I stridently claimed that another psychic was trying to access my mind, by pretending to be PF.
To be fair, I have reason to myself, I have reason for concern, as borne out by last night's dream. In my dream, good ole Faction 2 doctors tried to play the "sex card" again. First of all, I dreamed that I was told that at some point my genetic lineage indicated that I had genes of an 11 foot high Triceratops. I found that interesting, but it was what they did after that, which left me completely cold, angry, and alienated. First, they attempted to get a sexual response from me, using a vaginal probe, which was extremely painful and hateful (remember I have no nerves in my inner labia now--any kind of sexual penetration is painful and dry). So then the doctor put a probe in my anus, which was more pleasurable, but which infuriated me, because I realized that, once again, the KaBalistic control freaks, were trying to get a data imprint record of my brain wave response to pleasurable and painful stimuli, so that they could try their bullshit ersatz, psychic sexual encounter again.
Now, let me say, that I only engage in occasional psychic sex acts with PF--first of all, there is no orgasm, especially since the most recent vaginal mutilation, which has left my vagina practically unresponsive. Believe it or not, I am most responsive in my belly, where my phantom penis is. So, instead, I mostly just talk to her telepathically, though she responds a lot, "I can't tell you". As a matter of fact, I have figured out that mostly, she can only mirror back to me what I already "know" (not 100% accurate) in my own unconsciousness. Now, we 3D humans have all but cut ourselves off from our unconsciousness, but me, with my unusually strong imagination, and appreciation of Jung, have always had a much higher connection to my unconscious than most, but I am not a high performance telepath, and I can misread my unconscious depths--especially when I am emotionally involved on a personal level.
I do know this, however--the faction that was doing the sex probes, was attempting to gather data to deceive and control me even further. You see, that is the way the KaBal works. For them, love is a weapon to be subverted for use to serve "the Company" (for this particular faction, I do believe was the CIA Faction 2 group). With their technology, they can pattern my brain waves, and then attempt to fool me. It doesn't work--they already tried it once, and I don't think that I would fall for it again, but to them, it is worth it, for they cannot bear that I be free to choose my own self-identity, and the woman I love.
I have to say that I honestly had no idea what was going on, until today, when I was completely alienated by the sexual abuse from last night. I did not know that I was still being considered for some kind of CIA recruitment. I am not sure if I am even on planet Earth, or if I am in some sophisticated holodeck on a starship (I am 99% sure that I was on Mars when I went to CA--and I still may be on Mars). I have realized so many things, that I haven't been writing about, but I cannot write, when I am an emotional wreck--and I HAVE BEEN AN EMOTIONAL WRECK. It is amazing, but actually when I am most high strung, is when PF's attempts to reach me through some kind of telepathic sex, are the most helpful in centering me. However, take it from me, telepathic sex is still very frustrating--I won't say that it is not tactile, because I can literally feel her spirit, but still, there is a lack. This is compounded by my own sexual difficulties caused by the castration/mutilation, and the psychological difficulties wondering how many remote viewers are tuned in. I think there is some pathetic boy who is constantly trying to get his "peep on". I keep telling him that he needs to date a strong Black woman (I am not being racist--I honestly think that would be best for him--he is not a racist at all--just lost in white boy fantasy), and get real regarding life and sex, but I think he is completely hooked by the KaBal, and unable to love in reality, but only in his fantasy imagination, as ordained by MACHINE-RA.
I am capable of love, but am constrained by the limitations on love, placed upon me by circumstance, and, like every other slave, fear that I will never be allowed to love freely and fully. However, the alternative--not to love at all, is unbearable. So, as you can see, I am in a mess, and without an innate skill set to navigate through it all, so I suspect that life is going to be a little bit crazy for a while, and must apologize, because I fear this topsy-turvey craziness is going to reveal itself in my posts--assuming that my writing is being read outside of Langley, VA. Now, believe it or not, this is not even HALF of the emotional storm which has rocked my world in the past few days. Now, that I feel better, maybe tomorrow, I will write some more about it.