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Thursday, April 19, 2012

Brightly Lit Rubix

I've only heard from Dorica one more time since my session with her. She emailed me to ask when was another good time. I told her that since I work at home my times are very flexible. What was good for her? And that was that.

Well, she thought I was lying to myself anyway: slipped up and said so. So this is to be expected. You move on. You help yourself the way you've always done. You hope your one-sided answers aren't lies.

While listening to the audio tape for American Conspiracies by Jessie Ventura, I got to a part where he mentions how he was approached by another MKultra subject. This person, Ventura said, claims to have been picked because of his Native American ancestry. I was driving the car at the time, so all I could do was shake my head and mutter in disagreement while my husband smiled at me in amusement.

Abductees aren't chosen because they're Dakota or Cherokee or some other bullshit reason like that. If that were the case, only Americans would get picked up. Military abductees are no exception. That sort of racism does not happen in the program.

It's a handy distraction, though. This sort of lie works very well and all levels of the "great secret world" use it to keep the rest of us in control. "You're special. You shall be our prophet. You have a message to tell the world," distracts the willing subject to the point they give up everything to follow this directive they've been handed. They get so full of themselves in being special they forget the power of unity against the menace. They fight to get more attention from being special to the point they even undermine what another is doing. The spotlight is everything.

I have to wonder: back in the days, just a generation ago, when being Red was even worse than being Black in our society, how many people would have been told they'd been chosen for this because they were Red? Not many if at all, I'm willing to bet you.

Because nowadays being Red is the same as saying "I'm born with innate natural powers of psychic Mother Nature prowess." And the ignorant think it without trying. The stereotype is there, seeped into our bones through television and radio. And we, the stupid idiots, fall for it again and again. And again.

I was not picked for this program because I'm Native American. The possibility does exist that I was picked because my father very briefly was tested and used during the origins of the psychic programs years ago. There are connections there. Most likely, from what I've gathered, I was picked up because I was already an abductee.

I was told by a researcher - a rather zealous one who later decided me and my friend were going to psychically attack her through the squirrels in her front yard - that there are program workers who are trained to read auras. When the find someone not in the program that has the holes in their aura that mean they are victims of alien involvement, they tag that person to be picked up. That's how you get pulled in. Or at least it's one way.

It's also the way that makes the most sense. There are countless people who are both abductees and later on MILABS. Well, I suppose they can be counted. I just don't prefer to make an attempt to count that high. I don't have the time.

Well, I could tell you these things forever and I suspect no one is ever going to listen. So that's that.

The other morning I was in that between state you often find yourself. For me, my entire life, it's the place where I ponder the meaning of things... or listen to my other selves talk to me or to each other. It's not quite a dream state; more like a large room where we can visit.

There's one person in particular: I don't know her name. She looks just like me - as many of them do - but she's eternally locked in a younger more daring sense of self. I wasn't entirely there, because I was waking up, so my view of her was fuzzy and halfway out.

She brought out a box and used our mental link to transmit the knowledge that what she held was how to unlock my mind. It worked similarly to a Rubix Cube: if you turned it one way, it would flash one color. If you turned it in a different sequence, it would flash another color. She turned it to demonstrate and it flashed red.  The biggest deal, she communicated without speaking, was if you turned it in a particular different sequence, my mind would be opened and the box would flash a rainbow of beautiful colors. She began to demonstrate.

I realized she'd shown me this before, when I was much younger. Perhaps I was 14 at the time. But I communicated back to her a mental flash that translates to, "Oh! I remember this! You've shown me this before! Wow, I haven't thought of this in over 20 years!"

Yes, she communicated back to me. And she started telling me again what the box was for from scratch. We got to the part where the box flashed red and I fully came awake.

I told this to my husband and he remarked that it sounded an awful lot like the boxes from the Pinhead movies.

"I won't watch those movies for many reasons," I told him.  I have already been warned what's in those things. Nope. No horror Pinhead movies for me, thank you.

If no one will help you, help yourself. Screw the rest.