Home * About * Subscribe by Kindle
_____________________________________________
Writers of the Apocalypse * My Music
_____________________________________________

Saturday, August 11, 2012

So We Don't Meet Again

Springmeier is out of jail - if it weren't for his books I wouldn't know what little I do about things. Yet, I've never read past an excerpt here and there for all I've owned his books for years. I got them while he was still in prison, but it was my husband who read things for me. It was my husband who had told me about the Black Princess programming.

And it was learning about the Black Princess programming that made me understand that although I had not been lying when I had told people I was a princess yet a slave in another life, or that I was a reincarnation and an avatar of an old persona - I wasn't telling the truth either. The perspective was skewed by the lack of that all important bit of knowledge: just what it was that I was remembering.

Black Princess programming: she's a deep, buried personality in Flutterbies. When the Flutterby's carefully built matrix is tampered with or damaged, she awakens from her tortured slumber from where she was bitten by spiders and tormented by the lack of her eternal mate. Her job: to restore the mind, delete damaged or traitorous personae, and restore loyalty to the program. Her foremost thought, to find her lover.

It's a very painful process to endure. I don't recommend it.

So in my opened eye as the Black Princess - the Black Peacock was a title I took for myself internally - I saw the world as rightfully mine. Somewhere out there was my husband, the only man in the universe who knew how to be my handler - who could handle me like a animal trainer with his animals - while at the same time being my peer and lover. I was affixed as the separated center of a political world of strict laws that could only be worked around with loopholes. On one side there was a council of 12 elderly men who I spoke with on important matters of certain persuasions. On the other side there was a council of 7. And in the center, behind me, were the three who were my closest. I could direct what I wanted from the world and it would be done.

I wanted caustic leaders in the army reviewed and removed. It was implemented.
I wanted better grooming standards. It was implemented.
I wanted my husband, and he had to be a certain way. "Do things this way," the three told me. And, it was implemented.
I wanted. I wanted. I wanted. It was implemented.

And I enjoyed it - I confess I still would and possibly do. I ponder the state of the world, and I rail against what I feel is wrong. I have a sense of how things "should be" in my nostrils, and if the world is truly my oyster then I want to polish it right. As if I woke up tomorrow to discover I had super powers and a nifty pair of tights.

I know Springmeier is out of jail because I happened across a recent interview with him on Youtube the other day. I watched it for a while. One of his books is being reprinted, and the interview was to hype it up.

I have that book, so I loaded it onto my Nook and went to the pool to begin reading it. I didn't get very far. The book started talking about how Lucifer was supposed to be crowned at the turn of the last century. About councils of 12. Of families and things my innards know and know well.

My crowning happened in various way: they were ascensions. At the turn of the century I believed I was Lucifer - of course now I know much more about that legend and know it in itself is a false front for something deeper and... shinier - and I was having nightmares every night. I was getting attacked in my dreams by a group of people.

I lived in Bayonne, New Jersey at the time. There was one dream I remember in which the redhead who was the leader tried to draw me into a dark area. I told her she'd never trick me nor fool me into walking into her trap.

That weekend at a party, I met the redhead in the flesh. I was shocked.

But I was amused to learn she and her friends had formed a group to destroy Lucifer - they'd gotten the psychic sense that he was nearby and they'd been attacking him by ritual every night.

True story. I swear.

So by general agreement of the ignorant, I am Lucifer. The false front for a shinier story.

And the "astral" event I went through that year was a tribunal, a review of my life. A trial. To see if I was worthy. It was very stressful. If I failed it I would die in the real world.

But I didn't think of that while watching Springmeier's interview. Instead I remembered my scant attempts to contact him or his companions for help in remembering, in understanding what was in my head. Springmeier never responded to my letter. His friend responded but was very plain that I had to accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior and be reprogrammed. My quest for knowledge, taking things slow, making sure of what I wanted - none of that meant anything to them.

When Springmeier mentioned how people would come to him all of the time for help but he couldn't always help individually... I said to myself, "Well. Hopefully they didn't bother him too much."

They have firm and strong beliefs. They wish to be like Jesus. But I have already expressed how I feel about the role of structured religion in the programming process.