How It Began

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 top_stones_story_web 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

dollwvenus_selfportrait
Another of my first Photoshop pieces in 1997 now. The doll behind me was my mother’s. I used dolls cathartically.

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! SenecarocksWVclimb4julu97

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’.

MotherDemon_777
Here is a picture of a demon releasing from her. I took it. I saw it then.

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. michael-jackson-blood-on-the-dance-floor-350x352 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

Namasté.

*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

© EATING TO ASCEND – THE ASCENSION DIET 2019
@EatingToAscend http://eatingtoascend.com

EXTRA SMALL

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.

BlackHoleCloudAnnunakiLondon4June2019_550p
Cloaked Annunaki craft over buildings in London where POTUS is visiting, collecting human resources during the Nibiru transit.

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.

TsunamiSirenNowhereNearOceanJune2019sm

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!

BreakGenerationalCurseInFamilyCommentTweet5June2019

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.DrippingKeysCopyrighted450p He stole that from me.

EX AT SH FF sm
This half-man whose YouTube channel banner is a shot of the mast truck he operates for a major network in DC. Yep, the false flag Sandy Hook. What a lizard.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

© EATING TO ASCEND – THE ASCENSION DIET 2019
@EatingToAscend http://eatingtoascend.com

QuWave EMF Defender Protection Device

QuWave EMF Defender

For Targeted Individuals being affected by scalar waves, V2K and electromagnetic EMF ELF microwave radiation assault technologies. The QuWave Defender device QuWave sm also has solfeggio frequencies for harmonizing vibration on a cellular level, and uses Tesla subtle energies to negate forces perceived while conscious, dreaming or other REM states. I wonder if this will stop the REM sleep cloning, and am thinking that combined with the cabbage juice ropeworm protocol I suggest and share, definitely could make a body less apt to be psychotronically abused (for example in sleep paralysis, which I have had off and on since childhood, until I began to detox).
Interesting, and on #wantlist. ❤

Tags: device, EMF, human cloning, MIND CONTROL, MKUltra, protection, QuWave Defender, REM sleep,  Targeted Individual, V2K

© EATING TO ASCEND – THE ASCENSION DIET 2019
@EatingToAscend http://eatingtoascend.com

MOUTHS OF BABES – WHY I KNOW THEY WILL BE FREED, DNA BABY

Their artwork says it all. They just need to wake up now.

TheLabsAsDrawnByMySon800pTheLabsAsDrawnByMySon1800pTheLabsAsDrawnByMySon2800pTheLabsAsDrawnByMySon3800pTheLabsAsDrawnByMySon4800pTheLabsAsDrawnByMySon5800p

Tags: ascension, Children of The Light, DNA, dome, Emily, family, firmament, flat earth, heart language, human cloning, I LOVE YOU, Max, MKUltra, slavery, soul trap, SRA, satanic ritual abuse, Truth

© EATING TO ASCEND – THE ASCENSION DIET 2019
@EatingToAscend http://eatingtoascend.com

BE CAREFUL

BE CAREFUL

BeCareful_NYTSeries_MixedMedia_sm_TM

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.

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