For Real ?¿?¿?¿
smh … #ClimateChangeHoax
— Long Haired Hippie Rebel 🕉 (@lbox327) October 4, 2019
September 30, 2019
This is a world in which children are a teased, prodded, tantalized, traumatized, tortured, raped, cannibalized and eaten alive and murdered in order that the fallen angel “alien” dieties (the Annunaki of Mesopotamia and Sumer provide the most evidence, but it precedes those ages), who do not have the mitochondrial capacity body type to metabolize light energy in food, so they harvest children, adults, animals – all living things.
My first memory was waking up at age nine months, tied into a metal-barred white-enamelled crib spread-eagled, held down in an X-shaped crucifix form of ACE Bandages, in pain, unable to move. That is my first memory.
My mother was a Washington, D.C. cardiac research nurse and I was used in government experiments to monitor my reaction to what was being done to me. My body functions of urination and defecation were controlled with diuetics, laxatives and enemas. I was kept sedated on Paregoric, a Class-5 liquid opiate, and forced to live on my back.
After two years of this, my mother’s brother who had been an Air Force Pilot in the Korean War, and had become an architect an gentleman farmer who built the grotto in Emmittsburg, MD, the Marian Visions of the Black Sun took place at, discovered what was being done to me after I had been released from the crib and my father raped me on the kitchen counter. When he left for the day (he had been in the US Navy in their band for four years on a ship, and was getting his Bachelors Degree in Music at the U of MD), I went to the bathroom and got the bottle of Bayer’s children’s orange-flavored aspirin and ate the hole bottle, to try to kill myself. I had already pulled the shells of my two turtles off, hiding behind the couch, so see what dying was. My mother has told me, because I liked the orange taste of baby aspirin, and apparently had a lot of it those two years in the crib being data-collected for the CIA’s MK Ultra pilot projects Monarch and Mannequin, that it would kill me. I needed to know what dead was. So I killed Tinkerbell and Sam, and, sobbing, ate the baby aspirin, crawled under my parents bed, and a thunderstorm came. My stomach hurt and I cried. My mother found me and made it all even worse by making me drink some awful yellow syrup (Ipecac), and I vomited. When my father came home I was whipped with a belt. I couldn’t count yet, but at some point I passed out.
Have you seen this face? That’s my mother.
My uncle took me from my parents to his farm in Flintstone, Maryland. Since I was only two, and he had to work (he was building the hospital that was in Cumberland), and my three cousins (one, P.B., was in the Montauk projects while he was in the Navy, and was severely damaged, and he became a medical officer at Fort Detrick, where in 1996 he would tell me they made AIDS) were not much older than I was, my uncle put a dog harness on me and attached the dog chain to it and an old bulldozer tire which he filled with sand and toys, and placed it at the edge of the tributary to the Potomac River that ran through his farm. A cooler with drinks and sandwiches was there and the chain was just the right length to prevent me from drowning. That was the summer of 1961 and I was two. He knew that was a much safer existence for me that what my parents were using me for. This caused a lot of tension, but I am grateful for his intervention, although it didn’t last long, it saved my life, I am sure. I was able to visit his farm until age ten. He too was under attack, like his own uncles, he resisted the cabal, refused to become a Freemason, and he died an unnatural death prematurely.
My nightmares were of hiding from Nazi stormtroopers with dogs, and I was protecting my brothers and other kids, hiding us in walls, cabinets, cellars, and hanging upside-down from the silver-plated box springs of beds, the aluminum-flake metal getting into
my eyes, holding onto their arms and legs as they were discovered and pulled out of our hiding places. The dogs ripped at our clothing, bit our faces and bodies, snarling. Many were lost like this. I learned to use my forearm to pry open their jaws, and with my left hand, push their snout back, poking my fingers into their eyes. It only slowed them down, but it was self-defense.
This is just the beginning. Now I have decoded much of it. Here’s my “bio”, leaving out the part about my “second husband”, a newsman in the nation’s capital who is secretly a wanna-be transgender (he uses herbs and dresses cross in private, afraid to be discovered) who conspired to have me murdered in 2012. Miraculously, the shotgun shell missed my skull by a fraction of an inch, although it burned me. After the lifetime of MK Ultra, V2K, the satanic ritual abuse, the sabotage, destabilizing, the persecution, the killing of loved ones, the surviving “accidents:, arson attempts, being targeted by the gang in Fulton Hill in Richmond, losing my business, my animals, my home my art my lifetime of work my vehicles my health – LYME AKA MORGELLONS INFECTED WITH SMARTDUST BY THEM – I lost my family.
I DO NOT BACK DOWN.
I HATED Walt Disney films: FANTASIA was my trigger film father forced me to watch for two days.
I hated caves, and still do. And parking garages, and tunnels. And sleeping bags. You know why. And suffocating and drowning. I have drowned three times and been revived, but that’s not the only count. Yet I love to climb the mountains!
I began speaking out in 2007 on MySpace, telling the world about the Bee Colony Collapse. When Facebook launched, I told all my “friends” repeatedly that it
is a voluntary CIA surveillance input database we are feeding ourselves into”.
I was ridiculed for that.
Now it is common knowledge.
For some reason, the only media I am “allowed” to use is WordPress, and that onlyand even then, it is hacked, posts are edited or removed. The youtube channels I have started are jammed. Videos have words replaced, moved around, lose meaning, no views, subscriber counts cap. Channels deleted. And I am constantly hacked. At first I thought it was my newsman ex, who I had to inform the VA state police and IC3 about in 2016. Now it’s the social credit scoring done by the cabal.
I have seen the UFO crafts – all kinds – since age 3 or 4 (at the farm first) and as recently as last month, twice in one week here. I have had premonitions of the coming cataclysm that we are facing now, my brother’s death, my mother’s suicide attempt when I was 11 (I stopped it, she was in a coma, naked, beet-red, covered in foam, slimy clear froth coming from her mouth).
I have experienced ghosts, poltergeist and demons in my space since childhood as well. Once a woman died while I was drawing her blood when I was in pre-med at a Johns Hopkins Hospital (it was peaceful, her spirit passed through both of us and circled the ceiling and left. It was tranquil and affirming, I was 22).
At age 5, on a Baltimore television show on WJZ13, I loved to watch at home on Sunday afternoons, the host was a kind hobo in a gray suit. During each show, the children would all free-dance to classical music the likes of Erik Satie: interpretive. At home I dance my heart out. My father got me a ticket to be on the show, drove me there in the Dodge in the photo on this page and when it was time to dance, I wouldn’t. I felt as if I didn’t belong there then. Lorenzo (the “hobo” host – Stu Kerr was his name) knelt in front of me as I sat in a folding chair alone, all the children dancing, and askjed me – the cameras rolling – why I wasn’t dancing with the other children. “Because I’m not a child”, I answered. I was beaten for that, and once home, received lashes with the buckle end of the belt on my bare bottom.
At seven I began calling the police on my parents, but after the second call, I stopped, I couldn’t walk for the wounds from the belt buckle and broken yardsticks on my buttocks, thighs and calves. I stopped crying then, a silent rebellion.
The church was an escape, and the school ignored every word I said. I dared not tell anyone else.
Occasionally I would awake at a different age, time or place. I’d draw it, write stories, and it was said that I had a great imagination, was a dreamer.
By age ten, my parents were divorced. My father, high in the Elks Lodge heirarchy, MA in Music Howard County teacher, deacon of our church impregnated a young neighbor and it gets worse. Mother, an ICU night nurse fulltime, made me stop playing anymore and be her personal slave Cinderella and she was Mommie-dearest. She had a man move in who was a Roman Catholic from Highlandtown, John Anthony Baronowski. He and she were big-time swingers. I was drugged alot and used at his parties when she was at work. He was a pimp in Baltimore and had a string of hookers, passing off a fake career as a Baltimore City Police Detective with a fake badge. I found this out from my best friend Susie Collum’s dad, who worked as an engineer at Westinghouse nearby. He had compassion for me because I was kind, and had the three brothers and running the house on my young shoulders. I did everything by sixth grade. Everything. My mother and “Mr. John” ‘swung’.
Mr. John drugged me and tried to burn the house down with my brothers in it, and I saved us. He had left. That was in the middle of the night in February of 1970. My dog Dutchie saved us really. She jumped on my bed, barkig, despite the two “hot toddies” he had me drink because “couldn’t sleep because I feel like something bad is going to happen”. That something bad was pouring gasoline all over the kitchen curtains and setting the house on fire so they could collect on the Gerber Child Life Insurance Policies my mother had just taken out. She had had me bring her home the papers from Catonsville Elementary School. I asked for them in the office, Miss Hall gave them to me.
Someone in a video just said people are having problems remembering their past(s). Not me.
So here we were, me, Jay, Charlie and David, barefoot in snow, and I ran to Miss Bruchey’s next door and banged, calling the police and fire department. Mr. John came running up just as they arrived, and must have watched from a distance around the corner, then gone around the alley and come down the driveway from the back. He ran up and said “Thank God you got here, it’s horrible”, and pretended to cry. He threw himself on the ground and pretended he was suffering. I looked at him, a sixth grade girl, still outside in the snow barefoot, and screamed “YOU DID THIS!”
It gets worse… My mother drove up and he became a crisis actor.
After that I began to imagine them dying in a car accident, praying for forgiveness for the thoughts. In my dreams I tore him and other men’s eyes out, jumping on their backs from behind. I was staunchly virtuous, and suffered constant beatings, being burned, bruised, bones broken. My brothers… oh my god.
Charlie was driven to commit suicide at age 20, and event I had a vision of but could not stop. The other two are still alive, if you call it that.
So when the CIA came to collect their supersoldier in her twelfth grade year, I said no.
Those are just a few high spots.
Here I am.
They (the Annunaki interdimensional parasites who rule this world) don’t let a person succeed who does that.
My great uncles suffered similar fates career-wise, Uncle Homer even losing his entire valley because he left the DuPont wing of Post WWII Operation Paperclip. He tried to get so far from them he bought an entire valley in California, and had to go in and out by plane, helicopter, or guywire and pulleys. (I even met a man online last year who grew up hearing about my great uncle!) – the movie Chinatown is about that land they flooded. They took his land. I ended up living with Uncle Homer on the farm he had after that in St. Mary’s County, Maryland. It’s Amish now. He’s long passed.
The early days of the projects involved extremely invasive methods with drug classes and handlers who had less finesse than the eighties and nineties. Also, the saturation and vernacular of commercial pop culture and children in the gamer world hadn’t biased interpretation of what was happening.
The MK Ultra ran out of Spring Grove State Hospital, just across the beltway bridge. We used to go watch the Leary LSD experiments on the weekends, and saw and heard what I don’t like to describe. The Catonsville Nine draft record burning was dome with chemicals mixed by a member who became my UMBC Physics instructor. Small world. My high school friend Will Wilson went on the paint Michael Jackson’s BLOOD ON THE DANCE FLOOR album cover. He’s then one who took me to the CIA’s Forever Family cult.
I remember when the entities would visit me, and their forms which went through walls, or came through radios and televisions, like now, but more evident then. More visible.
My children made art about the cloning centers before they went to the dentist, who gave them fluoride treatments. Dear GOD I wish I had known then. I should have listened to their father, Jamie, my husband. He told me fluoride was used by the Nazis in concentration camps, but I didn’t understand yet. But he had already been fractured, himself a butterfly from DC used in sex trade as a child by his father, the then-Chaplain of Fort Meade Military Base. The clientele they were passed around in included being at the *author Tom Wolfe‘s home, and they were still friends with his clone son of same name, dress (white suit) and affectations. We “partied” together.
The images of my two children are black and white photographs I took, developed and printed. My daughter’s is infrared, my son’s is Tri-X. Note the starfish… sure you have.
After I was left homeless by this reptilian mass media shill whose YouTube banner literally is the station’s mast truck he operates, set up at Sandy Hook, the whole setup behind – he is the one who wrote “I’m in news, I lie for a living” publicly, in 2013 – and then I was targeted with Lyme and developed Morgellons Syndrome, the canary-in-the-coal-mine reaction true children of the Light with a high VMAT2 gene expression have. Because we are extra small, atom-sized, atom-us.
I’ll stop there. I’m grateful others speak out too. It helps to be specific. Makes a person more believable. Of course in the case of a child, then that’s different. I love you all, and each of us is a wayshower. There is great deception, and we cannot even conceive of what joy awaits us soon. We are refined by The Purifier, so stand. Or as I said in last night’s post, RISE ❤
*A bonfire of the vanities is “a burning of objects condemned by authorities as occasions of sin“. Now there’s a Luciferian inversion for you, them passing us through the fire.
Tags: ascension,bases,Catonsville Nine,children,CIA,deception,DIVINE LIGHT BEINGS,human cloning,Leary,LSD,matrix,mind control,MK Ultra,programming,SSP,Secret Space Program,supersoldiers,Spring Grove State Hospital,trauma,underground bases,veils,TRUE HISTORY
August 5, 2019
NOTRE DAME CATHEDRAL IN FRANCE PLASMA ARC ENERGY HARVEST RITUAL
THEY HIDE THE EVIDENCE – TARTARUS – SOUL ENERGY USED AS POWER
Mt. Saint Michel in France, Tartarus Star Fort
HOW WE FREE OURSELVES AND OTHERS
MOUTHS OF BABES – WHY I KNOW THEY WILL BE FREED, DNA BABY
“Sometimes it is the people no one imagines anything of, who do the things that no one can imagine” -Alan Turing
Tags: abortion,adrenochrome,airwaves,Annunaki,archons,batteries,bioetheric,cloning centers,chakras,cortisol,cymatics,Divine Light Beings,electricity,endocrine,fallen angels,Forbidden History,Free Energy,Genesis Six Conspiracy,Gnostic,Human Energy Harvesting,How It Works,Leylines,Light,Luciferian,Matrix,,Mengele,MK Ultra,organharvesting,Satanic Ritual Abuse,Serpent Seed,SoulTrap,Starfort,Structured Water,Tartarus,Tesla,Water,We Are Batteries
June 4, 2019
The electrogravitic crafts are increasing in number now. The amount of spraying done is staggering, and I have been watching for over ten years, and becoming very vocal about it since 2011. The number of cloaked crafts too is unprecedented. From the cover they are laying, it looks to me that Nibiru is crossing now in a transit from the E/NE.
For about a week now, every night it sounds like a river is flowing in the sky. About a month and a half ago, I wrote here that it sounded similar to that. Perhaps its system is so close now that tracking is more difficult, AKA the forest for the trees? Sometimes I think that the Dobbs Model and Albers the Physicist are off. There are ancient and enormous volcano forms rising up in a line deep under the ocean, approaching Connecticut. Archeological remains and roads are rising up from under the ocean floor in the Bermuda Bimini area of Atlantis. THEY LOOK TO BE LEYLINE GRIDMARKERS. Some big YouTube channels talked about this phenomenon, but failed to understand it.
Earth is unfolding to refold. It does not happen in a constant moment (as the word vision I had at age 19 said – I guess that makes me an oracle?). Typical “weathercasters” call the HAARPed area of the NEXRAD map “gravity waves” – HAHAHA! @MikeMostwill removed the tweet I refer to but here is the @MrMbb333 video showing the rising undersea formations offshore in the East Coast MidAtlantic ocean.
Should I offer cookies again? (Must I spell this out, the reference?) And to think the Annunaki who run this world still think they can control the process of cashing in as their home comes into our magnetosphere, as I blogged about here, in frantic denial of prophecy coming true, predictions made and preserved by scribes long before Mesopotamia was established (yes these records were kept, but hidden – it’s hard to get THEM, but in reading the ones we CAN read, they are quoted and referred to).
Not many seem to give heed to the roadmaps for this territory we were left in all the ancient texts.
THE ANNUNAKI TRANSFER IS HAPPENING NOW.
Eyes anywhere else are distracted ones.
I BELIEVE THAT THE CLOAKED SHIPS ARE TAKING THE GOLD RESOURCES – AND BLOOD AND HUMANS, WHOLE OR DISMEMBERED – TO DOCKING PLATFORM STATIONS TO RELAY WITH NIBIRU AND THAT SOUL COLLECTION IS HAPPENING. This has been what the Akkadians – the Annunakis – have done for possibly as long as 340,000 years, in approximately 12-year cycles.
To me the is THE MOST RATIONAL EXPLANATION for their creation of geoengineering and the 5G control grid.
The sudden success of late term and live birth abortion, the push for pedophilia and human ritual sacrifice add more evidence that they are taking human resources. We are their human resources. They are DESPERATE and like every other cycle of the crossing of their home planet, they are doing the same. It is coming to a crescendo pitch.
Dogs let outside to use the yard to potty and run around often begin barking wildly, and whining and howling inconsolably. When I go out into the world, people everywhere look lost, angry and basically, tortured.
And fat. They all are fat with parasites.
And it originally was not the fault of humans. Religion, Inc. lied to everyone. This is the worst crime of all, making the fall of humankind possible.
I wrote this yesterday morning:
It sounds like a river running, a coursing river of rapids, coming from the sky above.
The electromagnetic plasma arc storms; two yesterday, onethe day before that. It’s become almost daily now.
The sound: like far-off huge, low rushing, like engines trawling, but from above! You can hear it and feel it in your chest; your core: it’s undeniably real, audible, a constant.
Last night in the middle of the night [that would be the wee hours of 3June EST], the skies as far as I could see out my upstairs windows were clear; I could see ALL THE STARS. They were clearer than ever.
I could see them there three nights ago, too. I knew I would because my room was dark, like night ~should~ be… no “noctoluminescent clouds”. Eleven of them (“new cloud names”) were invented with name terms for the geoengineering coverup of The Destroyer coming in as it has since Lucifer rebelled and came to earth to be called Enki. I think “they” let the stars show at night so they can see and navigate these resource transports off-world by them, since they harvest so much along shorelines and in urbanized areas. No WONDER they want to move people out of the rural, remote areas and into planned zones.
And at 6AM, full daylight. I thought I’d slept until 8Am EASY. A supersonic jet flies by and leaves a trail of the vapors that drop into [as I type this out, a loud emergency siren that sounds like the tsunami warning system just went off. BTW, those towers are here now too. In Potato Chip town on the east coast. Regularly spaced puffs hanging like bulbs from a string across the sky – like an epoxy, a two-part admixture of aerosolized particulates – and by the time I could get my camera, they’d HAARPed it into the beginning of a whiteout.
And to the what-I-once-called-west the dull reddish glow haze of red-oxide Nibiru (red from the blood of souls they sacrificed, and ALL THE ABORTIONS AND ORGAN HARVESTING, and we are in it’s apron, the fearsome twin tail of Wormwood.
The storms will continue, and worsen. Be prepared.
+ + + + + + +
Know that LOVE WINS THIS BATTLE, but do NOT be complacent. Get OUT of your comfort zone and infuriate people. Heap burning coals of kindness on their head as you stand consistent and firm in re-educating them as to what’s really going on. Point out how poorly humans are faring now.
Focus your heart intention on everyone you love. If you can, fast. If you have never fasted, try for one day. Then gradually increase. And do the hacks that I share with you. Do the ETA Ropeworm Protocol you can request HERE. Get off the computer more and LIVE. Meditate and pray, and share what you know with others.
This is THE TIME. THE OPPORTUNITY IS NOW, since they have already seized it, and are seizing as many of us as they can. You have GOT TO WAKE PEOPLE UP TO THE HUMAN CLONING CENTERS. Show others the drawings my children did!
The images of child abuse in black and white, depicted as dolls, are from this video, which one must now sign into YouTube to watch, as it is marked 18+, even though public schools teach sex to kindergarteners now.
I began my Dollwork art series, which my secretly transgender newsman ex-husband stole from me, in 1996. I created this piece called DRIPPING KEYS, and it won first place in Baltimore’s SOWEBO Festival Art Show in 1997. I made it to process the child abuse I endured from birth, perpetrated by family, church and the system. He stole that from me.
Getting this out now. Keep your vibration high. Stay alkaline and take in lots of vitamin C.
Love you, my family ❤
Tags: abortion, children, human cloning, LOVE, Nibiru, PlanetX, PTSD, satanic ritual abuse, SRA, The Destroyer, Wormwood
May 6, 2019
(I go to bed/sleep by laying flat on back, no pillow, body *relaxed and open, room dark, with no LED lights, and focus inward to GOD inside, speaking lowly but audibly, thanking for LIFE, the day, that I can know THE CREATOR and speak to Him, and pray for my family , sending love/visualizing/honoring each one of them. I breathe along the breathing track, and hours later, wake up. *NO sleep aids, drugs or herbs, no alcohol. Not even aspirin.)
Went to sleep by 11PM, did above (as I do). Had had a fairly low-key day: sewed, read, wrote, watched a DVD. Ate (always home-made) lentil/vegetable soup for dinner. Drank lemon water.
I was not in a prayerful, meditative state for as long as some other nights, and guess it was perhaps 5-10 minutes. I last recall sending love to each of my children and grandchildren, feeling hugging them, and felt that it was complete, sometimes it goes a bit longer, and deep-breathed more (correction: quiet, inward, not deep) connecting with God, thinking, affirming.
I woke up, it was still dark, realizing where I was in my body, flat, on the bed, had not moved. I felt like my son was just leaving, that he and I had been together, he left “the space”, it did not feel like an end, and I said/heard (in my head, not with my mouth and ears) “BE CAREFUL”, then another word in a foreign language; an orient language. Not dissimilar to Chinese. (My arm keeps going to sleep from the shoulder as I write this.) (Back… half-hour break for morning things.)
So I “came to awareness”/returned to my body/woke up [added note: I do not practice astral travel, nor believe one should will such] by initially realizing I was in the same position I fell asleep in, slightly stiff, my neck needed to move, I felt thirsty/dry throat, and my hands were as they were as I had fallen asleep, my right hand resting on my left hand, arms crossed/hands over sternum. It was as if I settled back into my frame, and I turned my head slightly to the left: neck stopped “feeling stiff”/became non-issue. Stopped [being something I noticed]. I ‘heard’ “BE CAREFUL” and another (foreign/unknown) word in my voice [all internally heard, not five sense, in other words, ‘in my head’] spoken, it seems to my son Max, and he left, exiting the space I perceived [I/we were in], to the right.
Sounds began to filter in from “the world” “outside”. I have an open window to the left of my bed. It is as if they came in like Doppler, in concentric waves. A distant whine became a motorcycle coming from the north, going down the road and off to the south. [It seemed long and stretched out, elastic and thickening closer.] That is the direction of the road I’m on. It seemed to go on forever and left a concentric ripple like a finger pulled through half-set Jello.
I heard a jet come from the direction of the south, and recognized the sound as a military jet (as I have written in my blog) and it went off toward the north.
My hearing was very acute, and I saw it [what I heard]. It felt also like it had “mixing power”, like some kind of gravity or pull. I still had not moved and was still completely relaxed physically. I had opened my eyes a few times, and the room was lightening.
I have heavy, dark fabric over cheap (came with apartment) vinyl blinds and very large windows. By the light filtering in, I knew it was at least 4:30 or 5AM. It gets light earlier/never gets dark anymore (PlanetX/geoengineering metallic/nano clouds). The neighbor who gets up at 5:10AM M-F and starts her shower started it. (It is Monday morning and she teaches high school English.)
I thought about how profoundly aware I was of where I was – and where I am [that is the word I chose instead of ‘was’]. Told self I would write it [this experience]. Thanked GOD for letting me wake up to have another day to love people [typing that – have another day to love people – makes my chest hurt, breath catch and eyes tear/hands halt as that happens like a force hit/hitting], to know who they are. Felt awed yet not surprised at how I/this felt. I know that sorcery keeps people from seeing (past the veil).
Thought about Max Spiers and how much he looks like my son Max. Thought about “no coincidences”. How Max was with me in my “sleep”. Burned sage, made coffee, ninety minutes has passed.
Also, realized yesterday that the scientific symbol for “change” is a triangle: THE PYRAMID… Egyptian; Annunaki.
TAKE A MOMENT AND THANK MAX SPIERS
Post Script: I will, to myself, call this “BE CAREFUL”, as that is what I heard, and realized as I was typing this out that I have an artwork of that name, the image with this. (Actually, only my ex-husband who testified in court that he threw my artwork into the Spotsylvania, Virginia dump knows where it really is. All I have is some photographs left. I suspect he has my artwork, or his friends and family do, or he sold it. He took most of what I had made and owned, and lied in court, under oath: a legalized theft.
DO YOU KNOW THIS FACE?
This woman was a nurse in Washington D.C. and Maryland, working at Washington Hospital Center, Bethesda Naval Hospital, and then Bon Secours and St. Agnes hospitals in Baltimore. She received her nursing degree from Washington County Hospital in Hagerstown, Maryland, a short drive from Camp David. Upon graduating nursing school, she became an assistant to leading cardiac research doctors, and was one of the country’s first critical care nurses, which at that time was called “coronary intensive care”.
She worked full-time nights in the hospitals, and had charge of one patient per shift. She controlled their respiration, fluid intake and output, post-operative care including aneuryisms, heart replacement, bypasses and stents, pain management and oversaw keeping patients in medically induced as well as natural cause [sic] comas. (She wrote their care plans while drinking scotch and smoking Salems at her breakfast room table.) She was more like an angel of death than a nurse restoring life. She drank, smoked, and took sleeping pills, amphetamines, antidepressants, diuretics, wore Jean Nate perfume and emulated Jackie Kennedy while acting like an entitled Jewish Princess. She was a “swinger”, and her husband was a four-year warship U.S. Navy musician during the Korean War, who then went on to his masters in music, was in Beatnik and jazz bands yet became a public school instrumental music teacher, deacon of his church (Lutheran) and adult choir director. They both drank alcohol daily, partner-swapped with friends, beat their children on top of the beatings she received at his hands when she voiced her unhappiness with their lifestyle. They were good-looking, fashionable, and respected in their work and the community.
Do you recognize her face? Is she in your nightmares?
Because that’s my mother.
My mother, a coronary care [sic] nurse, tortured people and monitored their responses, keeping patients on respirators, EKG, EEG and IVs, determining when to tell the doctors to drug them, and controlling – or neglecting to treat – the maintenance of their excretory functions. Her cold, Mengele-like presence is all their souls had while they hung in life’s last balance. This is who raised me, and I was early MKUltra. My first year of life was being “kept tied spread-eagled in the crib with Ace bandages, sedated with liquid opiate Paregoric, with my body functions controlled by diuretics, laxatives and enemas”… her words, admitted to me about twenty years ago.
While the memories of what was done to me in my local environment by these monstrous parents were never buried, it has taken me a lifetime to discern the shadowpast background of REM cloned constant satanic ritual abuse, and their facilitation in making me (and my brothers) available to the cloning program. What a boon it must have been for them, financially, and in terms of the sick prestige and Sixtie’s hip echelons of society they were allowed into, to have had a highly intelligent, extremely verbal and multi-talented first girl child. My memories go back as early as eight or nine months. I see the faces, I see the animals, I feel the pain and I bear scars.
End of part one of my disclosure.
Short URL shorturl.at/xMQ45
GENERATIONAL METADIMENSIONAL ENTITY ATTACHMENT: IT’S RELATIVE
April 21-24, 2019
#whistleblower #cloningcenter #SRA #satanicritualabuse #survivor #SAINT
As a person goes through life, they are attacked by disembodied spirits seeking bodies to dwell in, for their souls to affect. Interestingly (there are no accidents), I have been thinking about this lately: I can recall my granddaughter twice (age 9 and 11) beginning spontaneous crying, coming under an instantaneous mood flux of such bad negativity that she was sobbing, when nothing seemed to have led up to it, and felt that she was bad, expressing shame and guilt for no reason. Asking her what was going on, how she felt, did anything happen leading to this, was there anything I should know led to only that it came from within her mind. This is demon possession. To comfort her, each time, I had to call her father (my son) and his voice calmed her. Then she had a what we called “nice bath” and we went to sleep (it was bedtime and both of these incidents occurred after dark). I know now that she was spiritually attacked. I wish I had known more, sooner, but I know this now. It has happened to me in the course of my life, and everyone I know.
Before Nichole died, she showed me some of E’s moleskine sketchbooks, and what she wrote. Actually, on December 18th, the last night I ever saw Nichole alive on this plane, she sadly showed me the last entries from her Thanksgiving holiday visit, where she drew a very disturbing caricature of her face and hair, with a written cartoon bubble of the most negative language one can inflict upon oneself. N’s face was so given to complete helpless sorrow showing me this, standing at my right side with our shoulders against each other. I held the book closer to the light (this truly has got to be allegorical as well!) and said with no pre-thought “This is voices she hears about herself, this is demons telling her these things” (paraphrase, forget exact words, but that’s the gist).
We all suffer this. This is the battle for our souls. Lucifer lives in the aether and infected us through sperm and becoming physical. We were not to be creatures which died. Look at the root of that word, creature. Once we were created by the Creator who is Light. We are Children of the Light, not beasts of burden. Being only the latest of recorded texts humans are allowed to read by the powers that be since the last earth cataclysmic reset, the Mud Flood (a relatively minor reset compared to the flood deluge of Noah about 6,00 years ago, and +/-12,000 years ago the immense pole shift with its flash freeze and the Ice Age that killed the dinosaurs) which took place before what we know of as the United States Civil War which covered over and disrupted the Tartarus Empire of energy harvesting from the aether, and of course to which Tesla responded rationally by – helping humanity, he thought – reverse-engineering and re-interpreting that aetheric power collection process for all to benefit from, but the Draconian elite quashed that in the name of oil and gold and trains and the fabricated mythology of the discovery of America and colonization, putting gas lines into homes, then electricity and telephone, creating utility companies and taking the Tartarus Empire to the next level.
I have tangented here, but to bring this back to us all, this is just the tragic, close-to-home example I must draw upon, and if she or my family read this, I pray that understanding grows for them. I am doing all I can to shine the light – when I told her mom the decoding of that sad sketch which looked like this – the sketch my granddaughter did of herself AND my daughter-in-law’s face , and OH, her face… I weep as I type this… THEN SHE DIED LESS THAN TWO DAYS LATER OF THE ILLUMINATI SACKLER FAMILY’S DRUG FENTANYL, CREATED TO KILL PEOPLE AND STEAL THEIR SOUL ENERGY. Look at the Georgia Guidestones.
AND the Purifier is hastening peoples’ exits now. The planes, the spheres, they’re blending as it approaches.
It is done to all of us. Unless we succomb to the cumulative nudges and shoves to do wrong things, past the tipping point of physical death before withdrawing ourselves from the demoralizing behaviors and we clean ourselves by detox and peaceful, compassionate life of giving, we will lose our inner light to be harvested in the soul trap.
I don’t want to use that term loosely, but we are responsible for answering to our lives’ products and this Grand Crossing coming, for which they hide the skies with the geoengineered weather – the lie called Climate Change – and set up 5G military DoD and DARPA and GWEN towers and the overhead DEWS over the face of the entire earth to maintain their control while people lose their sanity as the Purifier comes.
THE DARK MATTER CERN IS CREATING, AND THE ENTITIES IT IS SUMMONING ARE ALL A PART OF THIS
I love my granddaughter so very, very much, more than my own self (I love my other two grandchildren as well, but did not have the close relationship that Emily and I did before I became ill with Lyme/Morgellons that the medical establishment refused to acknowledge and treat, causing the shitstorm of all that on top of my dastardly ex-husband, and familial crap because of worldliness (I am way oversimplifying here). And I have always had a huge heart worn on my sleeve. Back in the late 80’s/early 90’s, it was told to me that I had “global depression” by one of the bottom-of-the-barrel government-sponsored
terrorists therapists who treat according to AMA etc guidelines, based upon Bilderberg group mandated social steering agendas. I couldn’t take a transit bus to work or go pretty much anywhere without experiencing such extreme empathy for the pain I saw inflicted and perpetuated without weeping on the spot. The profundity of this collective sorrow overwhelms one, and indeed seems to open doors to these ever-lurking disembodied spirits.
During the night, having soul talk with God in the DaVinci pose of man as I have described in other blog posts as how I meditate and connect with Our Creator within, the Soul Source, I considered some of the readings we are actually all blessed to have access to, and thought about how the flowers are that bloom, come up in color and beauty and fragrance and wither and die and rebirth themselves. They do not ask for notice or express needs. They do not stand out as different. Are they not all expressions of what LOVE is? So our going down low in this world, our struggle daily, every moment, to keep our rudder straight, our shock when the world hates us, we are these flowers that bloom. Our souls connecting without words, fragrance? The ancient sacred texts say that to the angels in the heavens, this world smells putrid.
The trauma system set up to harvest us as human resources, in Satanic Ritual Abuse via the programs the alphabet agencies do – my life as victim/witness/victor through The Light – which is demonstrated as truth by the words I share, and although perhaps more extreme than some others experience, in fact we ALL are sabotaged by these dark forces seeking to keep us from leaving this energy-sucking vortex their parasitic structure requires… THIS SYSTEM (the soul trap), a quantum game of thrones and numbers, only our adherence to the choice we make with our will to be good and accept the gift of knowledge of who we really are can get us off this coil of regenerated struggle.
Last week Aug said he had been attacked online and physically. Notre-Dame and other churches were defaced or destroyed. I was verbally attacked by two people, and then again last Friday, to the degree that a fear of physical safety is not unwarranted, based on this person’s statements and attitudes, their way of going, as a horse person says (I am one). This caused a repercussion yesterday which was another sad gutkick (I never want to not be shocked by evil and its voice). There is no need to verbalize the content, just to say that if this person was able to see the Light, they would not have even said the things they did, or thought them. “Eyes to see, ears to hear” – OR NOT.
But it did send tremors in my framework inside me (terrible grammar but expresses like a knife). I talked with God My Light Within. I examined back so far it is basically impossible to mine that deep in oneself, the reverbs and reflections again like that crazy hall of mirrors like screencast software, or a funhouse (I have always hated them, anything BUT fun). I asked myself the question I was asked, and come to the same conclusion life’s proof bears out: I AM NOT OF THIS WORLD AND EVEN IF I WENT ALONG WITH TRYING TO BE, WAS NEVER ALLOWED SUCCESS. Like I told that person yesterday, it’s in my DNA. I am way oversimplifying and perhaps confusing this, not being more wordy. So be it, you get it if you do, and I gnow you do. Looking at every measure of success in this world of quote/unquote “diversity”, it is antithetical to all I am, and always has been, to compare myself to and to consider that I could have taken other paths. Always an outsider, standing up for a virtue or ethic which others thought fine to redefine and live life differently from how we were created, because “everyone does”. People in this world are rewarded and followed for being order followers. Every single time I climbed some ladder wrungs (of diverse topics and talents, always with industriousness and creative effort defying and exceeding others’ expectations, for ‘genetic reasons AKA VMAT2 gene expression, inherent angel knowledge but on the good team from within my soul’s seat, my nature, despite the soils of conflict which occurred when embedded in the world I was not supposed to be trying to fit into in the first place) either a tragedy occurred such as death of close loved one, or a severe trauma caused by wrongdoing of someone who was supposed to love me, or some societal system screw-over (for example Baltimore County Child Support deciding to relieve the father of my childrens’ owed FORTY-FOUR THOUSAND DOLLARS IN ARREARS (that is still owed/unpaid), granted in the divorce decree, or my ex-husband the secretly wanna-be transgender DC newsman’s AGAIN Baltimore County – SHAME ON YOU, YOUR SO-CALLED JUSTICES WILL ANSWER TO THIS IN THE HIGHEST COURT OF ALL: GOD’S – a court-sanctioned theft of all I owned from childhood on, with my ex and his best friend (an obese man with parasites with a bookend wife, they can barely walk, and have too many cats, and likely they have brain tapeworms… would it be any surprise to know she is a daughter of a Naval admiral, and wealthy?) lying under oath, and fraudulent witness signature of his best friend’s wife on the separation agreement I was coerced to sign while undergoing a visibly apparent (and even over the web via social media, my friends noticed and were concerned) DISASSOCIATIVE FUGUE / nervous breakdown because I was being shot at by neighbors who sought to murder me in collusion with my ex and the local police (and higher, I am certain) because my presence and call about their “burning trash” disturbed their meth production ring that the county police were involved with and hiding), and my so-called husband had lied to me about his sexual proclivities which I would never have married into: THERE ARE ONLY TWO SEXES, AND TRANSGENDER IS AN ABOMINATION AND ALWAYS HAS BEEN.
The story of my life led to this. Some are born good in a world of evil and our soul’s wills picked our addresses long ago. THANK GOD.
And THAT is an excerpt from my autobiography. Hopefully learning of some of my experiences as a targeted individual who refuses to consent to the trauma helps you to detangle what has appeared to be a life of undue and shocking traumas and a derailed course, whilst being maligned by others who seem to receive worldly acclaim and rewards although their ethics and virtue fell short of yours, in practice, long ago.
Like the travelers in Sodom and Gomorrah, you were sabotaged.
However, the benefit to us is the greater in the long run. (Read the Book of Enoch.)
THE SOUL’S OPPORTUNITY OF THE REFINER’S FIRE EN MASSE
“Pleasure never comes unadulterated, and no form of goodness, which man seeks to promote, is unencumbered with restriction. Nevertheless, there is no form of goodness, which is unproductive of happiness in the hands of those governed with wisdom. Joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure, success and failure are all moulding processes operating on the spirits and natures of man. Neither of the opposites is of less importance than the other.” – Kolbrin SOF:16:3
COULD IT BE THAT THE TIME CALLED THE TRIBULATION IS THE TIME OF THE PURIFIER, AND THEY ARE ONE AND THE SAME? The electromagnetic shift occurring, and the plasma arcs, media-unreported ‘weather’ and geologic cataclysms, people being shuttled off in FEMA buses never to be heard from again, and the vast numbers of those who are giving in to any lust and pursuit they fancy, the “DO AS THOU WILT” wickedness now engendered in infancy, the cradle to grave and now late term and post birth abortion added, and children choosing genders and assimilating pronouns? Because those who took the reins of their souls and in this time are dealing with the horror of this malevolently fomented world of evil disguised as acceptance called Diversity are assaulted to their heart’s core by the rot of filth now passing for civility, locked down by the grid of brainwashed programming. ((((((( INSERT SCREAM painting HERE )))))))
“Moral laws and restraints are essential to the progress and welfare of mankind. When passions are unrestricted and weaknesses unfenced by moral laws, various forms of vice and perversions become accepte and sap the stamina of nations. When the abnormal is given free access to intrude upon the normal, the nation degenerates, the race is contaminated, and mankind suffers a reverse. The Great Law practices an obligation upon mankind to improve itself. Every man and woman must safeguard their heritage and raise themselves above earthly sordidness. This is one of the reasons for living. The struggle of life is with man; the struggle of man is with himself. Wise leaders in every land and age have made laws restraining the weak and abnormal from satisfying their carnal appetites and immoral urges. If their own uncontrolled desires were allowed freedom to dictate their actions, then not only would the weak and abnormal destroy themselves, but they would be like a cancer in the living body of mankind.” – Kolbrin SOF:16:9-10
“THE SOUL MUST BE WROUGHT WITH THE HARD, SMITING BLOWS OF ADVERSITY AND SORROW. It must be gently moulded by the waters of humility and charity; it must chased (*THE DEFINITION AND EXAMPLE FROM METALLURGY EXPLAINING WHAT “TO CHASE METAL MEANS – NOT WHAT YOU THINK) by understanding and patience (look at the images in that Wiki link). These are things which form a shape of harmonious beauty. But other things shape it in ugliness… evil qualities.” – Kolbrin SOF:20:9
“As man’s understanding of God increases, so does God recede; so that though through the ages men come to understand God better, He ever keeps the same distance away. We who dwell in the Light of the Supreme Spirit have come closer to understanding, not because we are better men but because we have devoted our lives to the search. If any man seek carefully and diligently enough, he must find whatever it is that he seeks.” – Kolbrin SOF:19:11
*Repoussé [ʁəpuse] (listen) or repoussage [ʁəpusaʒ] (listen) refer to a metalworking technique in which a malleable metal is shaped by hammering from the reverse side to create a design in low relief. Chasing, chased work, or embossing refer to a similar technique, in which the piece is hammered on the front side, sinking the metal. The two techniques are often used in conjunction. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Repouss%C3%A9_and_chasing