Fucking autistic again

Fucking autistic again--dont know what the fuck the goddamn PIB's got me on but it has got my head in incredible vise headache, and I cant watch tv. Images are just popping up. forced myself to walk for an hour--only exercise I can do, and even that is extremely painful, and am very autistic, but I notice that the GODDAMN CATHOLICS ARE STALKING ME AGAIN!!--stupidass women, but it usually has been the stupidass women of the traditional/opus dei stripe who stalk me. I guess they are all excited now that their jesuit brethren have castrated me so completely that I will never enjoy sex again. Oh boy, those sick warped religionists have to be salivating over that, as well as my depression over my mutilated body. YOU MOTHERFUCKERS DONT GET IT. I AM NOT ONE OF YOU!! I am more interested in forming communion with REAL SPIRITUAL PEOPLE and guess what, that doesn't include 95% of Catholics, and it sure as hell doesnt include the traditional pietstic and opus dei types. I don't care what you do to my body (and make no mistake--the warped religionists of the jesuits and opus dei were the human agents behind my mutilation--raping in my sleep wasn't good enough). I will keep my soul hidden, until I am safe with really spiritual people--you want to know what kind of spiritual peolple I identify with--go the gay/lesbian MCC church, listen to the callers who call in to George Noory, all the people who are aware of, and have encountered the other dimensions of the world, and who understand that the rigid dogamas of traditional faith are pathetically and woefully inadequate to the reality of the other dimensions. I suppose the fucking pigs are laughing their asses off at my suffering. They just don't get it. They don't get how important the body is or how important sexuality is. That is why they are not people of the spirit, and why I have nothing to offer them but rage for those responsible for my desecration and pity for the poor sobs who actually think that they finally are going to get their "titty saint." Go fuck off, you assholes, leave me alone.

...Oh just a mention....Amazing how religionists always pop out of the woodwork with their "claims" on me when I am so depressed. Like mind control victims everywhere, they think depression is a sign of deep spirituality. God, what idiots.

"Jes make like I'm a tree"

"Jes make like I'm a tree"--I was in my 20's when I read that line from the book, "The Color Purple." Spoken by the weary, abused protaganist (I think her name was Celie), as she explained how she had endured years of constant sexual, physical, and emotional abuse. Born a poor Black woman in the deep South, and victimized by generational dysfunction and abuse, all with deep roots in the inhumane brutality of slavery, she was relating how she survived the beatings she regularly received at the hands of her husband. Married off as a young teenager, barely past menarche, she exchanged the abusive authority of her father, who sexually and physically abused her for an older man and husband, who also sexually abused and beat her. "The Color Purple" is a classic of the American local vernacular, because Alice Walker does a superb job of presenting a protagonist who has only the dimmest of self-consciousness. Sadly enough, there are a multitude of people, especially women, and especially in underdeveloped and strongly patriarchal countries, where Celie's predicament is not uncommon. Women are especially vulnerable to being condemned to live a miserable existence that is really subhuman, suffering from a cultural and/or existential refusal to grant them even the most basic right of self-identity and self-determination--ownership over their own body and freedom of choice to live and be their own person. But Celie is a real person, and she meets another woman, who becomes her lesbian lover, who helps her with remedial individuation and allows her to blossom into fullness of humanity. It is to her that Celie confides her great secret of how she endured years of relentless abuse--whenever someone would beat or rape her (she never had any cognizance of free will with which to consent to sex), she became a tree, that is, completely unfeeling. As I read that account, I knew that I too, had spent most of my youthful years, "making myself a tree"--just stoic, enduring, lack of any free will or ability to take ownership of my life. I woke up this morning feeling like a tree, and after a full day of being a tree, I can say that I have regressed back to the omnipresent abusiveness of my youth. I have no free will. I have no energy. I have no desire--no desire to love, no desire to live, no desire to play or work. I just have a group of sick, patriarchal men forcing themselves upon me, and they have been so successful, that they have stolen my humanity from me, leaving me with no option but to be a tree. The feeling of deadness that comes from being a sentient being denied fullness of life, energy of expression, and free choice is just too painful--better to be a tree, and not feel.

As I wrote last night, and have written multiple times, I was cut on last night. Terribly depressing. Painful too. They continue to shave off arm musculature but also are carving out my breast (EXCEPT FOR THE GODDAMNED MAN BOOBS THAT I WANT CUT OFF). I also can feel pain in my ribs--think they are cutting there as well. My left arm and hand are in the most aching pain. Earlier, I felt the "stinger" in my left hand that I have wrote about before in regard to my head--it is the painful feeling of a cacti needle in the hand. I know, from very early dreams (like 7 years ago) that they have a subcutaneous implant in my hand with which they drug me while I sleep. The dream I had was of watching a movie in a theater, while Agent Smith (yeh, literally, Agent Smith), came and injected me in my left hand. I think they keep the drip implant there, because they are trying to isolate their victims from their heart (you know the old story about the vein that runs from the wedding ring finger to the heart; it may not be a vein, but there is some meridian or force active there). They have definitely messed with the left ring finger on my hand. And maybe that is why I feel like a tree--I have no emotions. I cannot even listen to music, which is the great balm in Gilead for me.

But even if I have no emotions, I normally can will myself to stir up energy from my inner spirit, and make me active in the world, but access to my energy has been completely cut off. I have been completely cliterodectimized (all sensation gone), and a big part of my energy, both in motivating myself and loving others, comes from the abundance of eros that I used to have. No more. I also think that I am being chemically castrated by being force fed female hormones. I am not a female--my spirit is masculine, and I know from years before, when I would take birth control pills, that my spirit does not like female hormones. Birth control pills used to make me feel sluggish and enervated, bitchy, impatient, and angry at life, struggling to find the energy to relate to others in a proactive way. Well, now, it is like being on birth control pills, times ten. I feel like a big fat slug, unable to move or get outside of myself, and I just don't care. Better to be a fucking tree. I suppose you could say I am depressed--I fantasize about cutting on myself, but mostly I just don't care. That is the worst of it. I don't even care about the cliterodectomy--I figured all along it would happen that way. The goddamned fucking religious pigs are never going to be happy with me. BECAUSE I HATE THEIR GODDAMNED PIECE OF SHIT HERESIES AND HATRED AGAINST WOMEN. They will keep cutting on me and cutting on me, and drugging me and drugging me, and when they realize they have nothing but an inert tree, they will start hacking off limbs in misogynistic fury. I know these jesuit luciferian sons of bitches. They have been raping and abusing me, both in my waking life and in my slumber for over a decade now. But I know myself too. I know when life is as unbearable as mine is right now, all I can do is become a tree. I don't even know if my spirit will ever rebound, without an erogenous component (well at least I don't have to worry about men projecting onto me anymore--believe it or not, while not sexually interested in me, I used to delight in men, but again that is related to eros, and that is gone forever). Maybe somewhere there is a woman like Shug who will be patient enough to help rehabilitate my destroyed body, sexuality and humanity. In the meantime I "jes make like I'm a tree."

Oh, one last little thing. When I took a shower today, I saw multiple fresh scoop marks on my arms and legs--usually I will notice one at a time, but I have about 4 or 5 fresh ones. Also, there is a two inch scabbed over abrasion on my right leg, of which I can guarantee did not happen on planet Earth. The scoops are the result of astral luciferians sampling my tissue to try to get my frequency so that they can hack my frequency. Wow, either they were a bunch of newbies or they can't get a handle on my frequency

Goddamn sadistic luciferian pigs

Goddamn sadistic luciferian pigs keep cutting on me. They removed even more of my shoulders and bicep/tricep muscle. I knew when I woke up that my sweatshirt, which fit me perfectly when I bought it six weeks ago, was hanging even further off my frame than the day before. I never feel my body anymore, because every time I do, I just cry, and I have spent all day sick in bed, so I really didn't notice it until I happened to touch my sawed-off, mutilated shoulders, and they were even tinier than they were after the original hatchet job! As before, I woke up with both hands numb--so, no way can they claim medical benefit. As before, they cut out muscle and leave fat, and they think that is supposed to make me feel feminine!!! God, their stupidity only rivals their arrogance.

As for me, I am in trouble, because, needless to say, this botched, freakish, mutilated alien job that is my body is not natural, and I literally cannot fit into my clothes. How am I ever going to find clothes to fit a large, muscular frame with no shoulders? Because of my huge, nanotech-bloated belly and ass, I have to wear large shirts, but then the clothes hang off a chopped frame with unnatural arms. Yesterday, I went to replace a light bulb that I have replaced many times previously, and my arms could barely reach the bulb.

I am very close to quit all efforts at working out completely. After all, it seems that it is more just a place for them to run psych ops on me than anything else. Besides what is the use of working out, if they are just going to cut and cut and cut? No matter what, I will never be what they want me to, so I am never going to be anything but a lab rat for their punitive, misogynistic wrath. My biggest fear is that these warped, sick sadists are now addicted to cutting on me. Like the blonde Mengelian Nazi dr. I met at the hospital, they think they own me, they think they are "creating" me, and I think they can no longer stop themselves from the cutting. Their time in our orbit is growing shorter, and as their time runs out, I fear these bastards are going to start chopping off limbs, to exercise their punitive rage at the thought that I actually might be a free person once again.

The worst part of it all is that it cannot be undone. I saw and compared a photo of Barack Obama today with previous photos, and I see that they have undone the facial reconstruction that they did on him, so that his face looks more oval, like that of his mother and grandfather, rather than rectangular with the jutting chin. I can even see the laser, scooped, shallow mark running across his chin. (Now that I know what I am looking for, I wondered how did I ever miss it?) But the PIB's have not done one thing to make me look better or more attractive, and there is no way that loss of muscle and bone can be replaced. They are so out of touch with reality, that they don't even know that all they have done by removing my most attractive parts of myself and leaving the ugly, that they have made me feel less feminine, and more freakish than ever before in my life. It doesn't matter. I feel like a kid in this body. I have lost all substance, all strength, all beauty. But I cannot stop these bastards from cutting, and I know things will continue to get worse. Maybe I should just curl up in a ball, and quit life altogether....

ALERT

ALERT!! I am very, very sick, but I have had an intuitive flash. There is no doubt that the nasty turn in violence in Egypt was in response to the visit by "diplomat" Frank Wisner. This man is dark cabal, through and through, as was his cabal "O.G. (original gangster) father before him. Also of interest are his in;-law ties to Sarkozy (hmmm....is that where Obama got his blackmail material on Sarkozy?). Anyway, it is to the cabal's interest that the chaos continue, that Muslim Brotherhood (their "baby) gain more significant support that they now have, and that the Middle East erupt into conflagration--specifically prep for a war with Israel. The cabal wants war in the Middle East because they want Jerusalem declared an International City, and open the way for the stargate of the navel of the world to be activated, under their control.

As part of furthering the chaos, I think the cabal is planning for an IMMINENT dirty or nuclear bomb. I think it is going to happen in the next few days as the moon enters a slivery crescent phase. Feb 3rd is supposed to show a rare glimpse of a 1 day past new moon phase, and I expect it to happen when the moon is in the early waxing stages. It could happen as late as the 15th which is a major religious festival--Prophet Mohammed's birth; one site said it was celebrated 2/4--and that would be my bet--but all the other sites I checked said the 15th.

North Carolina is the target. High probabilities--Charlotte, where the DNC convention is to take place (wouldn't Obama love to tell the Democrats what he thinks of their 2012 convention), and Winston-Salem (because Salem is related, not only to Shalom, but to Salaam, the Arabic word for deep peace (again, the cabal's warped ritualistic mentality at work). It could also be where Obama vacationed during the primaries--I don't think rural mountains are his thing, but he did it for publicity, and again, I am sure he harbors deep resentment to that location because of his ties there. It also could be the rural area/county where the Clintons campaigned in the 2008 primary. That was a critical primary, and the college towns were all for Obama, but the rural folk were for Clinton. I especially remember Bill Clinton talking himself hoarse in NC, about how "evil people were trying to take over America" (sounds flaky put in that baldly declarative way, but it made sense in the context of deeply religious America, in the political "sermonizing" he was using. North Carolina was a critical primary, and I think that the Clintons thought that they had a shot at winning it because of their ties to the local Dem party (again, what is the Dem location stronghold of the NC Democratic party boss?), but Obama did major vote stealing to win the primary. I remember, very clearly, on that day, the Lord putting it on my heart that Obama and his evil patrons had stolen the election that day--but some NC Democrat citizen in some NC city, nearly upended their evil plans that day...who, and where?

The other cities of concern would be along the coast, especially the naval bases. That dirty bomb is coming in from somewhere, and I bet the compromised, luciferian Navy is involved.


I know I am very sick and not really my healthy self, but I am certain that a nuclear/dirty terrorist attack is imminent, and I just laid out the possibilities that I think are the most high risk.

P.S.--There could be a hidden UFO vessel off the coast of the Carolinas or southern Virginia which would supply the dirty bomb...

reduced

reduced in every way possible. lost fullness of being. lost humanity. lost body. lost brain. lost energy. so fucked up on drugs unable to even get out of bed, and when i do cannot concentrate or care about anything. fantasize about cutting on self, wish form death. cant stand the mutilated alien job that is my body. dreaming in cartoons again so know i ma on psychotropic. just too sick to really care. brain rushes jolting my nervous system. too sick to care. world entering very dangerous pphase. too sick to do anything. fred wisner is trying to get the cabal of egypt back in control (that would include Muslim Brotherhood, a birhed child of the evil cabal). Know that a lot of good people are fighting hard. wish them well. can only offer up my suffering, and God willing, my death.

Alan Turing

Alan Turing was a gay man who, as a brilliant mathematician, was instrumental in breaking the German code in WWII. For his inestimably great service to his country, he was hounded to suicide, after being chemically castrated by large amounts of estrogen, to reduce his "unacceptable" libido. I was rereading that last night, and while I didn't get the emotional "ping" I usually get when my intuition was true, still the story rang true to me. When I woke up this morning, and felt, for the first time ever in my life, the excessive mucous on my tongue, which upon inspection was covered with a furry white down, I knew that indeed, Turing's fate is mine. I am being chemically castrated with massive amounts of estrogen. I occasionally think of blowing my head off with a double barreled shotgun or slicing my arms wide open, but overall, I know that I have the spiritual resources to cope with my chemical castration (the physical castration wasn't enough for the PIB's). Still, it is tough. As I mentioned in the last post, I have lost my ability to think deeply, to work on hypothesis in a sustained fashion via my imaginative faculty. As a matter of fact, my mind feels like an empty, blank slate. Now religious types laud the empty mind as opening up for the numinous experience of the divine, but I spent years cultivating that empty "no-mind" contemplative state, and I can tell you that this is far different. It is barren and sterile, and well, blank, with no cognitive or emotional content (even in the cultivation of "no-mind" you have the desire to experience union with God, or a feeling of peace, completion and fullness if you do). As a matter of fact, what the development of a contemplative life gives you is the ability to think deeper and more meaningfully, and experience emotions in an ever more intensely responsive manner. When healthy, my ability to think constantly and with rapid-fire imagination, as well as move from one emotional state to another in response to that rapid-fire imagination, is predicated upon a deep spiritual center built through years of contemplative (holy, in touch with God), "no-mind" practice. That is why my intellect is creative, and my love (as evinced through prayer) bears fruit (lets not pretend that I don't know the impact I have and the healing that I have done). But, as I said, (and boy, this is bad, but I can't even keep a train of thought from what I said earlier in the paragraph), a true contemplative stance requires desire (which is why I named my blog "reclaiming sexuality and spirit"), the same desire or libido which the luciferian PIB's now want to crush with chemical castration. I am not a woman, every cell in my body and brain is male, and I can tell the immediate difference that testosterone makes in my being--and now I am being deprived of it. I tell myself that I will get testosteron shots when I can, but right now that is a long way away (wow, again, I lost track of my thoughts--the chemical castration is not only killing my libido, it is completely undermining my ability to think). Anyway, the bottom line is that there is no spiritual life, there is no deep love, without libido. It is that libido, holy (and sexual) desire, that energy that sparks my ability to creatively transform the reality around me through holy energy. And guess what? That has absolutely nothing to do with DNA changes that makes one more psychic. All of these psychics that I encounter on a daily basis--none of them have spiritual love. They have an ersatz receptivity that allows them to get into someone's mind without permission, but they are totally incapable of relating to that person. I will give an example, since my brain is not thinking logically. There is a Black liberation cell fighting the Aryans, and trying to save their race from future slavery. From what I have experienced of them, their prospects are unfortunately grim. For while they have psychic abilities, there is no emotional or spiritual maturity to go with it. (Oh and by the way, the while luciferian psychics are even worse). For them psi abilities are a weapon, not a gift, and this (and their patriarchal value system which I have already lived and suffered through, and COMPLETELY REJECT), leads them to offend and violate my inner, private sanctum, instead of respect and relate. When I lash back psychically, they cluck cluck, and fall back on the huge psychological crutch that has left the black population psychologically crippled, "She's a racist. It's because I'm black." No, it is not--it is because your approach is deeply offensive and violating, especially when you use my mind while not doing one damn thing to save me from the ravages of true slavery. I've got more manhood in my little finger...well never mind). But that is okay. I have made my peace with that, and agree to limited tactical alliance. But to illustrate my point about love. A psychic Black mind is present at the front desk at the community center where I work out (nothing personal--I try to think positive, and assume he is there to make sure I don't get stabbed to death or kidnapped by rogue security forces, whatever). As I was walking out from my pathetic, hateful (no energy, no joy) workout, I saw that he was very angry with a young Black youth, who along with his Hispanic pal were staring through the glass wall at the people working out. Well, I knew exactly what was going on. The youthful pair were playing juvenile delinquent, male domination bullying and territorial games. They were giving hate stares to someone working out, trying to intimidate. Well the Black psychic knew this and was angry, and rightfully so. But he WASN'T DOING ANYTHING ABOUT IT. Now, I will give kudos to the psychic for at least recognizing that this kind of behavior is a real problem, and I know from experience, that left unchecked, it will develop into a character disorder and criminality. There are a lot of stupid white liberals and racist Black people who would be totally oblivious to the fact that this young man has a real problem (the Hispanic youth was just tagging along; the real hater was the Black youth). But receptive knowledge of the psychic kind without the proactive force of love is next to worthless! Now, if I were healthy, if I had libido, I would have walked by the two, and at least said, "Hi, how you doing?" and if possible, try to engage them a little further to address their sense of alienation and powerlessness that leads them to engage in bullying behavior. I would compliment them on their youthful physiques and ask why don't you workout instead of looking at everyone else sweat. Because I am in a female body, I would have to be very soft and oblique in my approach. But that psychic Black man is about 6'7" and 280 pounds. He has a whole range of options open to him. But while he has psychic knowledge, he has no spiritual love, and he is not really a bad guy. It's just that he, like all the other psychics I encounter, has no spiritual depth.

Sadly for me, I no longer am capable of proactive spiritual love either. The chemical castration has resulted in such a huge loss of libido and energy, I have no proactive love for anybody. I am sorry young teenagers that I wasn't even able to give you a nod of the head. Believe me, you have no idea of how fucked up I really am. Oh, and by the way, if there is no libido, there is no relationship with God either. I am just in a sterile, miserable state of being. Too dispirited and castrated to care.

Oh, by the way, forgot to follow up on my inability to "emotionally ping" thoughts and ideas. I no longer am able to hold a thought or image in my head, and then "try out" feelings on it, to see if I get a validation ping back. That just doesn't "happen". It takes sitting with the idea, letting it percolate, and having various feelings interact with the idea or image. That no longer is possible as I am both emotionally and intellectually castrated right now. That means I have lost all authority in any ideas I present or suggest. So be forewarned. Anything I write can be full of shit.