“Alert Starfleet Command, we have engaged the Borg.”
“Alert Starfleet Command, we have engaged the Borg.” These are the most chilling words in all of the scores of Star Trek episodes that I ever have watched. They were uttered as Starship Enterprise battled against a ruthless enemy possessed of overwhelming technological superiority, which wants to destroy all of humanity through cybernetic assimilation to its machine collective. I can’t remember if the command was given by 1st officer Will Ryker or Captain Picard, because, of course, in the "Borg" story arc, Captain Picard is early on assimilated by the Borg,losing his individual humanity and free will as his body is invaded by nanotechnology which makes him more machine than human, and completely subjugated to the machine/computer collective known as the "Borg." While I love the phrase (and band name), "rage against the machine", I think the chilling pop culture phrase, "Borg" is more appropriate. It has the Anglo-Saxon ring of pithy and blunt directness and unequivocating honesty. Also, it is the most descriptive truth of humanity's current situation in the larger galatic universe in which we human Terrans are small bit players, but prominently positioned right now as "the Borg" look to cybernetically assimilate us to the collective hive of the machine mind. It would be a huge win for them, and would, I think, change the balance of power in the ongoing cosmic struggle. Let us not forget that, in traditional theology, Satan repudiates God out of anger for the favoritism God shows to us humans, granting us free will. We may be a technologically backward and emotionally immature people, but we are one of the last remaining "free" (relatively speaking, of course)populations left in the known universe (which is much vaster than 99% of Earth's citizenry realize).
In the Star Trek mysthology, the humans eke out a (temporary, but not decisive) victory over the Borg, as Picard is rescued from the clutches of the Borg collective, to which he had been assimilated by nanotechnology and implants that stole his free will and vitality. His crew exercised loyalty and courage to physically rescue him the heart of the Borg cube, and his mental genius and acumen, and pluck to fight back, even when enslaved and assimilated as a drone, led to the Borg defeat.
I have engaged the Borg, and I am losing. I cannot stop the nanotechnology from invading my body and attempting to flood my mind with illusions. But I still put my money on the humans, because we have the "intangibles" factor going for us. But the fight is not going well. We are beset on all sides by enemies who do not have our best interests in mind at all. I personally am fighting the Borg every day and night, as I struggle to maintain my humanity and connection and fidelity to the truth. We have small victories and larger defeats.
But, as much as I suffer, I will not give up. I will not take the route of Captain Pike (staying with the Star Trek theme), and enter the menagerie of illusion because I cannot bear a "body-destroyed-and-all-but-dead body which is practically intolerable to someone who once knew great physical energy and vitality. I will follow the lead of Stephen Hawking (who lately has been quite vocal in his warnings about contact with aliens), who may suffer from a mangled, physically unresponsive body, but who maintains fidelity to the truth of the freedom of the mind. It would be so easy for him to accept the illusions that Captain Pike did, but he refuses. I do, too, ABSOLUTELY, UNEQUOCALLY,WITH ALL MY MORAL FIBER AND SPIRITUAL WILL. The whole world is being fed lies for the enemy does not want to physically destroy us, which they could do with ease. They want to assimilate us, to enslave us in a holographic world of lies, deceit, and illusion. In order to feed us those delusions, they need to have plugged into their computer maxrix, and this is what the nanotechnology and brain/nervous system implants to do this.
I have just spent an hour of my precious 3 hour library-alloted time writing this. I felt that it was urgent to do so because I realized that my previous post which I had worked up offline on my ancient, unplugged computer (word processor) had totally disappeared from both the computer and on the disk, which I use to carry the data to the library to post. There is a remote chance that I messed up and didn't save the data appropriately, but I don't think so. I am pretty computer savvy, and wouldn't make such a basic mistake. So I can only guess that the PIB's didn't want the info out on the WWW. I am not pleased with this post, but I tried to recreate it from my earlier post. It must be important for them to want it deleted.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Lot going on
Lot going on--I dont know how much longer i can keep posting. Psychotropic drugs have got me so fucked up I am yanked from one extreme to another. Physically, I am very ill and low energy. Very depressed. feel hopeless. last nite unable to sleep at all. severe headache caused by psychotronic implants (i can tell) nerve endingsiof my entire head on fire. THen i had the brain rushes which ive had before--psyhotropic cdrugs--cant sleep with the rushes jolting my entire nervous system. went to gym to work out. tried for about half hour, noeneryg. may need to just starting writing longhand. no more diesire for anything
Monday, August 9, 2010
installment 1
Taking a page out of Dickens, I am going to post creative work in installments as I write it. It is not what I want to do, but I must because I cannot control anything in my life. Hopefully, this will disseminate info widely enough to protect the content. I hate to do it this way, but given the status of my life, I see no other way to do it.
Introduction
It’s My Pleasure
“Where is Sarah your wife?” And (Abraham) said, “She is in the tent.”
The LORD said, “I will surely return to you in the spring, and Sarah
your wife shall have a son…Now Abraham and Sarah were old, ad-
vanced in age; it had ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of
women. So Sarah laughed to herself, saying, “After I have grown old,
and my husband is old, shall I have pleasure?” (Genesis 18:9-12)
Recently, in a life of many trials and few miracles, much suffering and occasional joy, I experienced the humbling epiphany that I was a mother! Of course, I had known that I was a mother for some time, ever since I had realized that my ova were stolen from me during a surgery on my optic nerve. Alien technology was used to suck all my eggs from me at about 45 years of age, without my consent or knowledge. I only knew something was amiss when I went into sudden and premature menopause after the surgery. I was not happy about it, at all, but rather shocked and angered into a numb unresponsiveness. I knew from my research into conspiracy theories (I was trying desperately to understand the crazy manipulation and circumstances of my life), that aliens had made a pact with rogue elements of our government, exchanging R&D for sperm and ova in an effort to perpetuate their sterile, barren race. On occasion, I would think about the fate of the roughly 75,000 eggs that I estimated were stolen from me, and wondered what life for my genetic progeny would be like. I didn't dwell on it much, because to be honest, from my perspective, the future of the human race looks very dark, degraded, and grim—similar to my own life situation ever since I was sold out and delivered into the power of the rogue government and their alien allies. I have suffered terribly, and continue to suffer at the hands of these “Pathologicals In Black.” The emotional, physical and psychological pain and suffering has been so great, that in depressed and angry moods, I have wished for the natural and inevitable extermination of a race that is so pathological in their mental and emotional orientation that they literally can no longer propagate their own species.
However, my own innate sense of justice, fairness, and open-minded tolerance started preparing my mind for a positive change several weeks ago. I started remembering a plot line from the X-files in which Agent Scully, who had lost all of her eggs in an alien abduction theft, found out several years later that she was the mother of hybrid humans. I especially remember Fox Mulder asking an intense, red-haired hybrid, “why are you trying to save her,” to which the young man simply replied, “she is our mother.” Unfortunately, my memory of the X-files is regrettably vague, but I seem to remember that the hybrids were actually deeply endangered—ruthless bounty hunters were sent to kill them, though I can’t really remember why. Anyhow, God speaks to me through my imagination, and slowly it dawned on me, that, somewhere, I had real, genetic offspring, and that, like the X-file hybrids, they are emotionally honest and tragically persecuted individuals fighting for their lives and futures, as surely as I am. Indeed, to their credit, I believe that they probably are fighting harder, for I believe a life of struggle and the most precarious of futures is all they have ever known, whereas I spent much of my early adult years largely oblivious to the evil that threatens to engulf and destroy reality as humanity knows it. But now that evil, which has allies and resources that I could never hope to match, has checked my every natural possibility and hope, and I look forward to only to my death, which for me, means the end of years of overbearing suffering, pain, isolation, betrayal and loss. I am not lugubrious or resentful of my fate. I believe in the resurrection, and believe me, I have despaired of this life for years.
The primary regret I have is that I will not really “know” any of you. In human society, to “know” someone is to relate to them, from a position of interpersonal dialogue and vulnerability, from the most casual to the most intimate of encounters. I understand that as hybrids, you probably are more comfortable with telepathy than with relationship dialogue and vulnerability. However I am telepathic too, and I can honestly tell you, that while telepathy is a useful tool of interaction, it is not an accurate or legitimate way of “knowing” someone, at least among us humans. Over the past ten or more years, I have experienced deep wounding by people who have purposely and routinely thwarted and denied all my attempts to relate to or “know” anyone. It is a sick, warped form of “spiritual direction” used by patriarchal mentors and priests, and, not coincidentally, it is also the primary means of “mind control” practiced by the satanic elements who now control my life (but not yet, praise God, my mind). Over the past couple of years, I have also become familiar with the wounding caused by telepathic psychic invasion, and I find that tremendously violating as well. For someone, like myself, who is very concerned about the future of humanity, this explosion of people who are trained in, but not gifted with, the use of telepathy, is a very frightening phenomenon. For I can foresee that the use of telepathic invasion of privacy as a unilateral tool and weapon to dominate or probe another, without their consent, will only create intense feelings of being violated, resulting not only in escalating tension and hostility, but ultimately in violence and fratricidal war.
I hope to write more on telepathy, and its proper use, place, and etiquette at a later time in this discourse, but I am gravely ill and in great physical pain, and don’t know if I will have the energy to fulfill that ambition. However, I feel that there are more important and pressing matters that I must address first, because I honestly don’t know how much longer I will live, especially since my every prayer to God now is for death. As I started to reread my opening paragraphs, I realized that I had shifted my audience from the generic “they” of my unknown children to the personal “you.” I am not going to edit anything. This essay will be written, especially for “you,” each one of all my children, whom I will never know.
First of all, I want you to know that your mother blesses you, equally and unconditionally, with the most munificent of blessings. I was unaware of, and did not consent to your conception and being, but I am aware now, and hereby give my most unequivocal and heartfelt consent to the fullness of life for each of the approximately 75,000 eggs that came from my bodily issue. I started this chapter with a quotation from Genesis. Your mother is a self-identified (though not institution-identified) Christian and I am steeped in the scriptures of the Hebrew canon and the New Testament. It is my hope that you too, will encounter these scriptures and learn how our great spiritual forbears lived and exercised their humanity, and talked to God (religion deserves a lengthy chapter, but in case I don’t get to it, there’s my plug).
Introduction
It’s My Pleasure
“Where is Sarah your wife?” And (Abraham) said, “She is in the tent.”
The LORD said, “I will surely return to you in the spring, and Sarah
your wife shall have a son…Now Abraham and Sarah were old, ad-
vanced in age; it had ceased to be with Sarah after the manner of
women. So Sarah laughed to herself, saying, “After I have grown old,
and my husband is old, shall I have pleasure?” (Genesis 18:9-12)
Recently, in a life of many trials and few miracles, much suffering and occasional joy, I experienced the humbling epiphany that I was a mother! Of course, I had known that I was a mother for some time, ever since I had realized that my ova were stolen from me during a surgery on my optic nerve. Alien technology was used to suck all my eggs from me at about 45 years of age, without my consent or knowledge. I only knew something was amiss when I went into sudden and premature menopause after the surgery. I was not happy about it, at all, but rather shocked and angered into a numb unresponsiveness. I knew from my research into conspiracy theories (I was trying desperately to understand the crazy manipulation and circumstances of my life), that aliens had made a pact with rogue elements of our government, exchanging R&D for sperm and ova in an effort to perpetuate their sterile, barren race. On occasion, I would think about the fate of the roughly 75,000 eggs that I estimated were stolen from me, and wondered what life for my genetic progeny would be like. I didn't dwell on it much, because to be honest, from my perspective, the future of the human race looks very dark, degraded, and grim—similar to my own life situation ever since I was sold out and delivered into the power of the rogue government and their alien allies. I have suffered terribly, and continue to suffer at the hands of these “Pathologicals In Black.” The emotional, physical and psychological pain and suffering has been so great, that in depressed and angry moods, I have wished for the natural and inevitable extermination of a race that is so pathological in their mental and emotional orientation that they literally can no longer propagate their own species.
However, my own innate sense of justice, fairness, and open-minded tolerance started preparing my mind for a positive change several weeks ago. I started remembering a plot line from the X-files in which Agent Scully, who had lost all of her eggs in an alien abduction theft, found out several years later that she was the mother of hybrid humans. I especially remember Fox Mulder asking an intense, red-haired hybrid, “why are you trying to save her,” to which the young man simply replied, “she is our mother.” Unfortunately, my memory of the X-files is regrettably vague, but I seem to remember that the hybrids were actually deeply endangered—ruthless bounty hunters were sent to kill them, though I can’t really remember why. Anyhow, God speaks to me through my imagination, and slowly it dawned on me, that, somewhere, I had real, genetic offspring, and that, like the X-file hybrids, they are emotionally honest and tragically persecuted individuals fighting for their lives and futures, as surely as I am. Indeed, to their credit, I believe that they probably are fighting harder, for I believe a life of struggle and the most precarious of futures is all they have ever known, whereas I spent much of my early adult years largely oblivious to the evil that threatens to engulf and destroy reality as humanity knows it. But now that evil, which has allies and resources that I could never hope to match, has checked my every natural possibility and hope, and I look forward to only to my death, which for me, means the end of years of overbearing suffering, pain, isolation, betrayal and loss. I am not lugubrious or resentful of my fate. I believe in the resurrection, and believe me, I have despaired of this life for years.
The primary regret I have is that I will not really “know” any of you. In human society, to “know” someone is to relate to them, from a position of interpersonal dialogue and vulnerability, from the most casual to the most intimate of encounters. I understand that as hybrids, you probably are more comfortable with telepathy than with relationship dialogue and vulnerability. However I am telepathic too, and I can honestly tell you, that while telepathy is a useful tool of interaction, it is not an accurate or legitimate way of “knowing” someone, at least among us humans. Over the past ten or more years, I have experienced deep wounding by people who have purposely and routinely thwarted and denied all my attempts to relate to or “know” anyone. It is a sick, warped form of “spiritual direction” used by patriarchal mentors and priests, and, not coincidentally, it is also the primary means of “mind control” practiced by the satanic elements who now control my life (but not yet, praise God, my mind). Over the past couple of years, I have also become familiar with the wounding caused by telepathic psychic invasion, and I find that tremendously violating as well. For someone, like myself, who is very concerned about the future of humanity, this explosion of people who are trained in, but not gifted with, the use of telepathy, is a very frightening phenomenon. For I can foresee that the use of telepathic invasion of privacy as a unilateral tool and weapon to dominate or probe another, without their consent, will only create intense feelings of being violated, resulting not only in escalating tension and hostility, but ultimately in violence and fratricidal war.
I hope to write more on telepathy, and its proper use, place, and etiquette at a later time in this discourse, but I am gravely ill and in great physical pain, and don’t know if I will have the energy to fulfill that ambition. However, I feel that there are more important and pressing matters that I must address first, because I honestly don’t know how much longer I will live, especially since my every prayer to God now is for death. As I started to reread my opening paragraphs, I realized that I had shifted my audience from the generic “they” of my unknown children to the personal “you.” I am not going to edit anything. This essay will be written, especially for “you,” each one of all my children, whom I will never know.
First of all, I want you to know that your mother blesses you, equally and unconditionally, with the most munificent of blessings. I was unaware of, and did not consent to your conception and being, but I am aware now, and hereby give my most unequivocal and heartfelt consent to the fullness of life for each of the approximately 75,000 eggs that came from my bodily issue. I started this chapter with a quotation from Genesis. Your mother is a self-identified (though not institution-identified) Christian and I am steeped in the scriptures of the Hebrew canon and the New Testament. It is my hope that you too, will encounter these scriptures and learn how our great spiritual forbears lived and exercised their humanity, and talked to God (religion deserves a lengthy chapter, but in case I don’t get to it, there’s my plug).
living dead
Hassles. Hassles.
August 8, 2010
Living dead. Didn’t know I could be alive and feel so bad. All energy gone. Cant stand cant walk. Spine hurts so bad. Cant do any exercise. Havent done yoga, not even child pose or down dog in over three weeks. Belly hurts. I know that’s where vampiric implants are.. sucking all energy. Too sick to care. Rarity for me, eating sugar. Trying desperately to get enough energy to be alive. Think purpose is just to hook up mind to machine, and drain mind. Dreams have no connection with body reality. I know images are beig pumped in… Think that is purpose. Worried about weight. Think im going to have to quit eating. Too sick to take any vitamins supplements. Maybe only way to die is to quit eatin……. Lower back dead no sensation. Cant be possible to be alive and suffert his much. Praying God for death.
Good news of a sort…this evening went to watch an exhibition football game on tv. Brain literally couldn’t follow it. This is good news because I have been here before. I remember trying to watch football games from last year, and not only being completely uninterested in even my favorite teams, but even worse, too sick to watch motion on the playing field. Cant follow the ball or the players. Eyes can only look straight ahead, no action, no motion. Because ive been here before and survived I guess I can hope. Want to write, but so sick, brain cant keep train of thought.. just want to lie down. Every muscle in body is locked and spasmed and it hurts to sit up, lay down, stand up, body just hurts terribly… body all spamed and pronating outward from joints. Been here before. Can live. Don’t have any desire to, except to help my children fight against the machine.
August 9th—Psychotic mind. Funny thing—every body who drinks the proffered koolaid talks about the “clarity” of aryan mind. It is not clear. It is sterile and barren and PSYCHOTIC (mind disconnected from body reality). No doubt this is facilitated by the implants and the nanotechnology they have placed in my solar plexus, visera, sacrum, and entire nervous system, which creates alienation between body and mind. Alienation to point of psychosis. I try to stay oriented to reality but it is not easy. I am barely capable of any emotion, which is scary because I cannot emote out negative emotions thoughts and perceptions in a healthy way. Instead im aware of it being repressed and developing into a cold, unfeeling hatred. Spiritual hatred. True hatred. Satanic and Luciferian hatred. Pathological hatred. Nazi hatred. It is this cold unfeeling hatred, created and fed by the disconnect from emotions and body that has led the aryans to become monsters, such monsters that they would wreak their own psychotic alienation on others, steal their bodily issue, deny them their sexuality, and even, my God have pity on me, castrate them. And incredible as it seems, these pathological, castrating entities and their co-opted human minions (the ones who integrate and accept the transhuman implants that destroy their humanity, and create unfeeling monsters), are in position of strategic and tactical strength in all facets of our political establishment and military. Even worse, they are maneuvering to destroy all credible opposition, to establish permanent dominance. Their current plans were put in motion by the deliberate hatchet job done on Gen. McChrystal. This enabled a truly upright man, Gen. Petraeus to be put out of the way at Centcom, and take a demotion to become battlefield commander in Afghanistan. He probably took it, accepting the bait that it would put him in a powerful position to run for president in 2012 (not knowing that the second part of the equation change would ensure that he would never be more than a puppet). For the hidden second part of the strategy was to place Gen. Mattis in charge at Centcom. Gen. Mattis is one of the “lost,” sold-out to alien “principalities and powers” humans. Checking out his eyes on various prominent photos, I can tell that he, indeed, is not only evil, but even worse, is no longer fully human. This is not because he is a “give ‘em hell” kind of general. It is the reflective mirror, the lack of emotions that I see in his eyes. Unfortunately, for me, when the implants are really powerful the viral downloads, I can see the same alienated reflective orbs staring back at “not me” in the mirror. Mattis was confirmed in tandem with Clapper of the intelligence office. This was a double whammy against the powers of good in our government ( a deal made to save the lives of astronauts in the space station?) One thing for sure—the upshot is to leave me even more heavily victimized. As sick as I am however, I have to try to do what I can, sound the alarm or all humanity will suffer the monstrous, emotional, psychological and spiritual castration that I experience in my own physical flesh. I would not wish this castration on anyone, not even those who have consented to it.
August 8, 2010
Living dead. Didn’t know I could be alive and feel so bad. All energy gone. Cant stand cant walk. Spine hurts so bad. Cant do any exercise. Havent done yoga, not even child pose or down dog in over three weeks. Belly hurts. I know that’s where vampiric implants are.. sucking all energy. Too sick to care. Rarity for me, eating sugar. Trying desperately to get enough energy to be alive. Think purpose is just to hook up mind to machine, and drain mind. Dreams have no connection with body reality. I know images are beig pumped in… Think that is purpose. Worried about weight. Think im going to have to quit eating. Too sick to take any vitamins supplements. Maybe only way to die is to quit eatin……. Lower back dead no sensation. Cant be possible to be alive and suffert his much. Praying God for death.
Good news of a sort…this evening went to watch an exhibition football game on tv. Brain literally couldn’t follow it. This is good news because I have been here before. I remember trying to watch football games from last year, and not only being completely uninterested in even my favorite teams, but even worse, too sick to watch motion on the playing field. Cant follow the ball or the players. Eyes can only look straight ahead, no action, no motion. Because ive been here before and survived I guess I can hope. Want to write, but so sick, brain cant keep train of thought.. just want to lie down. Every muscle in body is locked and spasmed and it hurts to sit up, lay down, stand up, body just hurts terribly… body all spamed and pronating outward from joints. Been here before. Can live. Don’t have any desire to, except to help my children fight against the machine.
August 9th—Psychotic mind. Funny thing—every body who drinks the proffered koolaid talks about the “clarity” of aryan mind. It is not clear. It is sterile and barren and PSYCHOTIC (mind disconnected from body reality). No doubt this is facilitated by the implants and the nanotechnology they have placed in my solar plexus, visera, sacrum, and entire nervous system, which creates alienation between body and mind. Alienation to point of psychosis. I try to stay oriented to reality but it is not easy. I am barely capable of any emotion, which is scary because I cannot emote out negative emotions thoughts and perceptions in a healthy way. Instead im aware of it being repressed and developing into a cold, unfeeling hatred. Spiritual hatred. True hatred. Satanic and Luciferian hatred. Pathological hatred. Nazi hatred. It is this cold unfeeling hatred, created and fed by the disconnect from emotions and body that has led the aryans to become monsters, such monsters that they would wreak their own psychotic alienation on others, steal their bodily issue, deny them their sexuality, and even, my God have pity on me, castrate them. And incredible as it seems, these pathological, castrating entities and their co-opted human minions (the ones who integrate and accept the transhuman implants that destroy their humanity, and create unfeeling monsters), are in position of strategic and tactical strength in all facets of our political establishment and military. Even worse, they are maneuvering to destroy all credible opposition, to establish permanent dominance. Their current plans were put in motion by the deliberate hatchet job done on Gen. McChrystal. This enabled a truly upright man, Gen. Petraeus to be put out of the way at Centcom, and take a demotion to become battlefield commander in Afghanistan. He probably took it, accepting the bait that it would put him in a powerful position to run for president in 2012 (not knowing that the second part of the equation change would ensure that he would never be more than a puppet). For the hidden second part of the strategy was to place Gen. Mattis in charge at Centcom. Gen. Mattis is one of the “lost,” sold-out to alien “principalities and powers” humans. Checking out his eyes on various prominent photos, I can tell that he, indeed, is not only evil, but even worse, is no longer fully human. This is not because he is a “give ‘em hell” kind of general. It is the reflective mirror, the lack of emotions that I see in his eyes. Unfortunately, for me, when the implants are really powerful the viral downloads, I can see the same alienated reflective orbs staring back at “not me” in the mirror. Mattis was confirmed in tandem with Clapper of the intelligence office. This was a double whammy against the powers of good in our government ( a deal made to save the lives of astronauts in the space station?) One thing for sure—the upshot is to leave me even more heavily victimized. As sick as I am however, I have to try to do what I can, sound the alarm or all humanity will suffer the monstrous, emotional, psychological and spiritual castration that I experience in my own physical flesh. I would not wish this castration on anyone, not even those who have consented to it.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Hassles.
Aug 6, 2010—I survived the Feast of the Transfiguration, but not very well. I was abducted and tortured again last night. I woke up with a puncture mark behind my right ear. There is no doubt that the PIB’s released another bunch of bugs into my brain in yet another one of a never ending attempts to pry my will and spirit open to their brainwashing. I wish I could just convince these torturers that there is no way that I am going to break, and if they can’t accept that, please go ahead and just kill me. I was severely autistic all day; down with a sick migraine and no energy for most of the day, though I am trying to force myself to do at least one chore a day in the outside world. I tried to go to the gym, but I was too weak to do anything, though I faked it for about 20 minutes. I am so distressed about the loss of muscle and increase of larding that I am experiencing, that I am committed to try to work out at least once a week, but I don’t know if there is anything that I can do to stop the deterioration of my body. As a matter of fact, I have given up on ever completely recovering my bodily health and vigor. I haven’t done yoga in over three weeks. There is only so much energy I have, on a good day, about 1/3rd of what is normal for me, and it is clear to me that my body will never recover from the torture that I have endured over the last eight years. Even now I am looking at the purplish bruises on my feet and the multiple slash marks at the border of the foot and shin, and worry that permanent damage has been done to my feet and ankles. Then there is the cosmetic dismay at the premature skin stretches and wrinkles on my legs and arms from years of severe edema, and then the draining, all the while denied the treatment that would have addressed the problem. What little energy I have left is to try to follow the news and current events over the Internet—which takes even more energy now that I have to go to the library and deal with all the hassles involved in public queuing and sharing of space. Earlier today, I was too sick to concentrate on reading so I just skimmed some email and a few posts. Typically for me, I feel better now that it is 11 at night. My hormonally altered, night-owl circadian rhythm is just starting to kick in, but unfortunately the library is closed and won’t be open until 10 am tomorrow. Hassles. Hassles. Hassles.
August7th--The good news is that I accomplished my chore of the day--laundry. The bad news is that I was so weak that I could barely stand in the laundromat, and just stuffed a bag full of unmatched socks--I was to weak to even pair socks. I continue to be afflicted by the onset of energy drains (the viral implant downloads) so severe that I can barely open my eyes, walk, or lift a 20 pound basket. It is the same as before. I am resigned that there is nothing that I can do about it. I know, (and they know) what I need to live like a human being--endocrine treatment and testoterone supplements, but it won't happen as long as alien influence is running this government, and right now that is the way it is. I wonder sometimes how much I should write of what I suspect and what I know, but I am not an inflammatory or harangueing type person, and find it difficult to throw out provocative thoughts and opinions without feeling the compulsive nudge or push that comes from the Holy Spirit. I ask myself, "Is that why I suffer so much?" "Is my measured and balanced response an invitation to the Nazis to keep abducting me in hopes of 'turning' me?" I don't think so. Besides, I am beginning to write in a more organized and systemic fashion. It is just painstakingly slow. Even as a college student and fine expository writer, I resented outlines as cumbersome and unhelpful. However, I realize now that such a discipline would have been helpful for me to master, as organizing and outlining in my mind is difficult when dealing with large amounts of material. Of course, in college my body was appropriately hormonally balanced and my mind was healthy, and I could keep, carry, ponder, edit, and "work" ideas in my head constantly. Now all thought is a draining struggle, just as all of life is a struggle. But I am absolutely committed. It is just going to be a slow process, especially until I can "see" the outline in my head
August7th--The good news is that I accomplished my chore of the day--laundry. The bad news is that I was so weak that I could barely stand in the laundromat, and just stuffed a bag full of unmatched socks--I was to weak to even pair socks. I continue to be afflicted by the onset of energy drains (the viral implant downloads) so severe that I can barely open my eyes, walk, or lift a 20 pound basket. It is the same as before. I am resigned that there is nothing that I can do about it. I know, (and they know) what I need to live like a human being--endocrine treatment and testoterone supplements, but it won't happen as long as alien influence is running this government, and right now that is the way it is. I wonder sometimes how much I should write of what I suspect and what I know, but I am not an inflammatory or harangueing type person, and find it difficult to throw out provocative thoughts and opinions without feeling the compulsive nudge or push that comes from the Holy Spirit. I ask myself, "Is that why I suffer so much?" "Is my measured and balanced response an invitation to the Nazis to keep abducting me in hopes of 'turning' me?" I don't think so. Besides, I am beginning to write in a more organized and systemic fashion. It is just painstakingly slow. Even as a college student and fine expository writer, I resented outlines as cumbersome and unhelpful. However, I realize now that such a discipline would have been helpful for me to master, as organizing and outlining in my mind is difficult when dealing with large amounts of material. Of course, in college my body was appropriately hormonally balanced and my mind was healthy, and I could keep, carry, ponder, edit, and "work" ideas in my head constantly. Now all thought is a draining struggle, just as all of life is a struggle. But I am absolutely committed. It is just going to be a slow process, especially until I can "see" the outline in my head
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Severely depressed
Severely depressed as I am forced to acknowledge that there is absolutely nothing I can do to protect and defend myself from these alien vampires who make my life absolute hell. I spent the past two days barely able to move. I can move now, but I'm so dragging and drugged that it is difficult. I know that the PIB's are messing with the nerve endings in my solar plexus, which may be part of the reason I feel so dead. I don't care. It is better to feel dead but have some measure of spiritual freedom than to sell out to these PIB's who are out to destroy all freedom, all spirituality, all energy in their warped perved vision. Even now, I find myself unable to write what I need to write--constrained by time. That is okay, though. I will continue to fight with whatever means are available to me--just need to feel a little bit better...
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
I guess the PIB's aren't fans of Jane Fonda
I guess the PIB's aren't fans of Jane Fonda--LOL. Seriously, once again they have successfully hijacked my personal computer, I am unable to use it for anything except playing solitaire. The internet, the printer, and all the storage drives--floppy, CD-ROM, and USB aren't working. So once again, I find myself utilizing the free computers, with all its limitations (wait times, hour-short increments, three hour max, etc). It's better than nothing, especially since, with each abduction violation I endure, I become more and more determined to fight these Nazi pricks with every weapon I possess. If I end up writing out my thoughts and beliefs in long hand, I will. I am constantly remote viewed and probed by psychics anyway, so I can only hope for transmission, and if not, at least the act itself should bolster hope and a sense of accomplishment. I need all the hope I can get. After two days of feeling human, the abductors once again did their psychic/bodily rape, and undercut my attempt at self-healing. I make jokes about Jane Fonda, and the campy Barbarella poster I downloaded for my now defunct personal desktop, but what made me feel human, beside the energy boost, was the sense of passionate desire, "ganas", for life. I was shocked because I found myself praying for the first time in a long time, I mean, really praying, not with words, but with the same spiritual yearning that is the basis of true spiritual relationship. I could shut my eyes and get into a state of TRUE contemplation. It was not the realm of the "ether." It was the realm of real connection and subsuming union with, in, and through God, the ultimate ground of our being. Since the abduction from night before last, that is all gone. Gone too is the joy and enthusiasm for life, my feeling of normalcy, my ability to sleep (after two nights of falling asleep like a baby, I couldn't sleep last night until after 4 benadryl, 2 tylenol, and about 3 shots of vodka--that is not normal, that is not healthy), my digestive problems (my bowel movements are messed up again, and once more I have that peculiar indigeston), and my ability to focus and concentrate (it was so funny to read that testoterone could cause ADD--for the two days that it worked for me, I was able to concentrate and read/understand better than I have in years). So what happened?
Well in addition to further attempts at cliterodectizing me, somehow the alien doctors were able to get into my nervous system and "rewire" (literally) my hormones, so that most of my hormonal output is feeding their nanotechnology conduits instead of my own life force and vitality. It is as if they are able to turn our normal human gonadal hormones into something they can "milk" and use--especially corisol and adrenaline, but no doubt others as well. This is hormonal castration, and unless something changes, it looks like our future is not only going to have castrated, enslaved women, but also men. They can suck out male vitality and life force just as easily as patriarchal cliterodectemies have been sucking out female vitality and life force for centuries. Despite my pain, loss, grief, and rage, I cannot wallow in self-pity. The PIB's scored a major victory yesterday. I am not certain, but I think that they were able to destroy the defenses that the space station had attempted to put in place, and maybe that is why the Nazi's were able to get control of my computer. I am not going to speculate. What has happened has happened. I can only pray that I am able to do my work without ideal computer internet access. So let me just say that I am a little worried about the upcoming August 6th date. That is the Feast of the Transfiguration in the liturgical calendar. It also is the date that "Little Boy" destroyed Hiroshima. At the time I learned of the date of the atomic blast, I thought "what irony." Now, I know there was nothing ironic about the choice of the date at all. The satanists like to pervert Christian and holy dates, warped to fit their own warped, evil beliefs. I don't feel any strong alerts, but without access to a computer, I may not be as quick to respond to an intuitive feeling as I should, so I am throwing it out there. Watch out for Hawaii. As a college student I dreamed of Hawaii being destroyed by nuclear blast, and given our current Fraud-in-Chief, I am worried even more. When Jon Stewart starts cracking jokes about the non-existent birth certificate, you know that the truth is beginning to crack the partisan divide and defenses. The PIB's always choose their targets/agendas with multiple objectives in mind. Right now, I would say that Hawaii fits the bill. Wow, writing this, I just became even more worried. In my dream, I saw the atomic bomb blast over Hawaii metamorph somehow into the consecrated Host that a priest on a Navy ship was holding up. The imagery is kind of confusing. I am rememebering the dream from years ago. But there was a definite connection. The entire act of the the Holy Eucharist is one of "transfiguration", and in my dream it was explicitly linked to the atomic blast. Interestingly enough Catharism (the heretical sect of Christianity linked to the Templars and the luciferian gnostics who are allies now with the satanists) also respect the feast of the Transfiguration. From wikipedia-- "In Catharism "transfiguration" is meant as personal transformation and evolution as opposed to referring to an actual Jesus. The meaning is esoteric." All I can do is put it out there. Hopefully the good guys can check it out.
Well in addition to further attempts at cliterodectizing me, somehow the alien doctors were able to get into my nervous system and "rewire" (literally) my hormones, so that most of my hormonal output is feeding their nanotechnology conduits instead of my own life force and vitality. It is as if they are able to turn our normal human gonadal hormones into something they can "milk" and use--especially corisol and adrenaline, but no doubt others as well. This is hormonal castration, and unless something changes, it looks like our future is not only going to have castrated, enslaved women, but also men. They can suck out male vitality and life force just as easily as patriarchal cliterodectemies have been sucking out female vitality and life force for centuries. Despite my pain, loss, grief, and rage, I cannot wallow in self-pity. The PIB's scored a major victory yesterday. I am not certain, but I think that they were able to destroy the defenses that the space station had attempted to put in place, and maybe that is why the Nazi's were able to get control of my computer. I am not going to speculate. What has happened has happened. I can only pray that I am able to do my work without ideal computer internet access. So let me just say that I am a little worried about the upcoming August 6th date. That is the Feast of the Transfiguration in the liturgical calendar. It also is the date that "Little Boy" destroyed Hiroshima. At the time I learned of the date of the atomic blast, I thought "what irony." Now, I know there was nothing ironic about the choice of the date at all. The satanists like to pervert Christian and holy dates, warped to fit their own warped, evil beliefs. I don't feel any strong alerts, but without access to a computer, I may not be as quick to respond to an intuitive feeling as I should, so I am throwing it out there. Watch out for Hawaii. As a college student I dreamed of Hawaii being destroyed by nuclear blast, and given our current Fraud-in-Chief, I am worried even more. When Jon Stewart starts cracking jokes about the non-existent birth certificate, you know that the truth is beginning to crack the partisan divide and defenses. The PIB's always choose their targets/agendas with multiple objectives in mind. Right now, I would say that Hawaii fits the bill. Wow, writing this, I just became even more worried. In my dream, I saw the atomic bomb blast over Hawaii metamorph somehow into the consecrated Host that a priest on a Navy ship was holding up. The imagery is kind of confusing. I am rememebering the dream from years ago. But there was a definite connection. The entire act of the the Holy Eucharist is one of "transfiguration", and in my dream it was explicitly linked to the atomic blast. Interestingly enough Catharism (the heretical sect of Christianity linked to the Templars and the luciferian gnostics who are allies now with the satanists) also respect the feast of the Transfiguration. From wikipedia-- "In Catharism "transfiguration" is meant as personal transformation and evolution as opposed to referring to an actual Jesus. The meaning is esoteric." All I can do is put it out there. Hopefully the good guys can check it out.
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