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Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Project Serpa

12 personnelle go to the Reticulae system to live for 13 years. They lose track of time and die. One thing the radio show didn't mention that seemed more than a coincidence was how the ancient legends say the same thing: if you go with the fairies you can never come back or you'll die. How's that for a Merry Christmas? I hope yours is merry!

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Eve Lorgen - Archons, Djinn and ETs Disrupting Spiritual Communities

It's basically a good interview although they ranted way too much about how women should be in power and how much women are better a bit way too much. Yes, the patriarchal mentality has proven to be a problem. But when one of them said you won't find any matriarchal cultures anywhere on the planet and Eve said she thought there might be some cults left in India, I felt like maybe they'd been blowing smoke out their asses the entire time.

But I have a degree in anthropology. I clearly remember studying about more than one matriarchal culture while in class. That still exists.

Maybe that's the propaganda, because one anthropology theory is that going patriarchal is a natural evolution of civilization. So we're told it's been stamped out and only primitive neanderthals would have been matriarchal. And so we come to the conclusion that women leading makes things somehow inferior.

Who knows.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Karla Turner and Elton Casey Turner - Living With Abduction (1993)

Dr. Karla Turner was a brave woman who gracefully faced down her critics and other "Ufologists" who weren't willing to accept that maybe the picture were darker than they thought it was at the time. She didn't enter into ufology for fame. She did it because no one had any answers for her and she realized if you want a job done right you have to do it yourself.

Of all the research I've stumbled across her has been the most objective, indepth, and honest. Yet no one will discuss what she found. Yes, it's terrifying what she found. You SHOULD be scared. And ready to face it, know about it and do something about it.

These videos should be shared often. And her research should never be forgotten.

Monday, October 14, 2013

Party on the Dark Side

There is a place I have been to many times, so much I can give you a firm layout. It's on a beach, and it's an open air bar. The framework is pale wood, like bamboo or pine. There are two or three bars and many twinkling lights; it's a very clean bar - not at all like any I've been to in the waking world. And always when I go, it's filled with people. There are a lot of people, as if there were some huge social function going on.

There is a deck that goes around the back of the bar, behind the enclosed part of the building. The deck can be reached from the open air parts, however. It overlooks the ocean, which is about an acre away. There are trees, too, so that you can see the waves crashing through the break. They twinkle deep blue in the moonlight sometimes.

Standing on the deck looking at the ocean, there is the beginnings of a boardwalk to your left. It's usually closed and locked, because no one is allowed to go down it. You can't reach the waves by walking across the yard, either. The yard is filled with deep roots and marsh. You'll get stuck trying to cross, especially in the dark. I know because that happened to me once.

I always want to go to that beach when I'm there, though. It's just where I prefer to be. You can tell it's a private beach. How peaceful it must be to walk on along that sand with the waves washing your toes.

But that is not where my dream journey began last night. No, it began in an apartment building on the second floor. The apartment I was in was empty and the walls were a pale yellow. There was a light brunette doctor there - maybe she's the one whose been with me since I came here to Louisiana. Maybe she dyed her hair. She had on her lab coat but did not hold her clipboard.

I was escorted into the room and stood with her near the center. There were a lot of other people there, but they were more background color to me. I was aware of them, I was aware of their movements. I didn't care to register them as more than "people in the room with me doing these things".

The doctor told me that the angels, both good and evil, had to come and convince me to choose between light and dark again. It was important for me to remember who I was. (Again with the remembering. As if it pays my bills or something.) She stepped back a few steps and the "angels" came at me.

As far as I was concerned, they were trying to kill me so as they came close I lashed out with my hands and killed them one by one. I was very methodical about it, and wasn't really there enough to remember more than the blood spraying everywhere.

After about twelve or so, the doctor told me that both Archangel Michael and Lucifer would approach me now. And from the wall before me a man did walk forward; a very very tall and skinny man with curly short brunette hair. As he approached I expected him to be the Archangel Michael but as he neared my psychic field I realized this was not the holy good person I should expect. He saw that my third eye was wide open and staring and he snorted derisively to himself, shaking his head a little - I realized that was actually a private reaction and I wasn't supposed to see it so I did not react.

As he got within two feet of me I became aware of a cloying scent about him. It wasn't anything I can place: not cologne, not decaying flesh, not fruit or meat or anything like that. It was actually confusing, this heavy musky scent that was just on the sweet side like a well made meat pudding. It was this scent that made me decide I had been approached by Lucifer - because demons, real demons, smell like death. But it was also confusing. I kept thinking he smelled like death, but I knew he didn't. I've smelled death. This was not the smell of death. It was a smell I knew, I just couldn't remember.

And I had a sense as if I was supposed to know him from previous times - I think this is the impression the doctor was trying to give me.

He took me to the bar, then. I can't remember the journey or what he said to me in the meantime, but I know things happened. My memory glosses over those part and skips to the bar, which was filled with people. I recognized every face I saw, held conversations with many people who always nodded cordially as if greeting me was expected. Some faces I thought I knew from jobs I held in the past, but these people weren't quite it. Most of them were young and Caucasian, although there was one brown woman with salon styled hair that held a conversation with me for a few minutes before taking her drink and moving on.

Lucifer came up to me after a while, just as I was turning to walk away from my spot and find something to do. We went to the deck out back to look at the waves, and he brought himself very close. He put his arms around me and bent down to bring me into an embrace. His nose nestled by my left ear.

I thought he was going to kiss me, and I was filled with a dark protective rage. With my right hand, I grabbed the top of his head and jerked him back by his hair. "I will kill you," I growled.

Patiently he let me do that and locked his brown eyes with mine. When he didn't move, I let him go. He talked to me in a matter-of-fact voice, but I just can't remember what he said. It was something about me remembering, about it being an innocent act, and some other things that suggested it had to be. I just can't remember, and it's frustrating. Whatever he said, I let him bend down again to wrap around me without moving.

He brought me into his chest then and pushed my head against him as if I were a small child. Surrounded by his arms and his scent, I realized how familiar this embrace was. "I remember this," I said. Trustingly I put my hands on his sides. I wasn't committing to a full embrace just yet, but the feeling of being back into this cocoon made me relax.

"Yes," he said. "And do you remember the feeling of my back against your hands?"

I place my hands fully on him then, with my right hand a little further onto his back. His back did feel familiar to me, and I said so.

We broke apart and he spoke with me, but now I can't remember. He wanted to live it up for the night. There was a party going on and it was our role to play it out. About two or three young women approached us, as if they were also there with Lucifer, and everyone started to get into the swing of things. I was forgotten for the moment, and that's when I noticed I was near the boardwalk's gate. I could see the waves in the distance.

For the first time, I decided I was going to that beach come hell or high water. And I jumped the gate. As I did so, I remember noticing for the first time that I was wearing a white cocktail dress. The cloth swirled over my legs as I easily jumped over - and my legs were thinner I also noticed. I was also shocked at how easy it was for me to do it. As if the gate weren't that tall or I was healthier.

I went down the boardwalk in the dark. In no time I was at that coveted beach. The waves moved in an out rather quickly, but it seemed natural to me. I remember as I got there, I bent to look at something in the sand. I looked back at the deck where I could see Lucifer and the others dancing. I wished they would join me - I guess because it would be nice to have someone share my interests.

On the waves were several dozen Cabbage Patch dolls, all moving in and out with the waves. They had been abandoned by their children, I knew, and my heart went out to them. I approached them.

There was on doll who was new. He had black curly hair. He approached me, but I can't remember what we talked about. I ended up holding him in my lap while I sang to the dolls. I told them how sorry I was, that they had been left behind. That I hoped their children would come back.

Then I put the doll down and started to take my walk.

When I woke up in bed after all that, my mind was filled with Lucifer's embrace and his cloying scent. And I have spent all day replaying the moment when I threatened his life - like an animal trainer with a frightened tiger, I realize he was. He handled me well.

My husband complained to me when he got up and someone had messed with his CPAP mask. That only happens to him when we go on a journey. I wonder what his was like.

Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Mind Control Programs: How Are Victims Selected and Recruited?

Mind Control Programs: How Are Victims Selected and Recruited?

Really good video about it. Gets to the meat of the affair.

#1: Born into it.
#2: Involvement in related cult activity
#3: Sold into the program by suspecting and even unsuspecting parents.
#4: Noticed in the active search and abducted in
#5: Military service

I think I'm a #4. Which one are you?

Monday, October 7, 2013

Memory, before confirmation

I should take a moment to tell you about my team. It's September 13, Friday... and one of my RSS feeds has turned up with some remembered material from a super soldier. I saw it and realized I needed to record down what I myself remember before reading the article and listening to the interview, lest I color my memory or confuse things up.

I'm going to talk about what I thought was my past life, an alter ego who was in the military. I named her Taus, as I've mentioned before, but the truth is I have no idea what her name is or even if she has a name. She considered herself very beautiful, but she was also untouchable. That only made her more pretty, she thought, because there were so many who could not have her. And we always want that which we cannot have.

In the real world, the story starts when she's very small being taken through her bedroom window to meet the hunters and hang out. There was one time she knew she was being placed back in her bed after an adventure, and she could feel the presence in her room. "Don't open your eyes," a woman's voice kept saying. "Don't open your eyes. Don't open your eyes."

So she opened them - she probably would have kept them closed out of fear, but being told not to open your eyes will get a human to do that every time. Next to her was a silhouette, something she can only describe as a big-headed burglar. It was a small man and his head was shaped like one of those caps from the 1880's, like Andy Cap.

She screamed, and of course her parents came running. She told them there had been someone in the room, but who would believe her? No one of course. It was just a dream.

For the rest of the time I will talk about here, she was plagued with night terrors. She was either running for her life, fighting something, being told about the end of the world, watching people die... the list goes on and on. At first her parents always came running, but then came the night when she was about 6 when no one came no matter how much she cried and wept. From then on her night terrors were faced alone. 36 years later she still has them on occasion, when visited by a bad spirit. The spirit always leaves disappointed: she isn't that scared of night terrors anymore.

In the other world she started out in the Pit, working there under Gromatesch. Maybe she was 3 or 4. He was a reptilian, and he lorded over things holding this staff that had a gem in the top. Gromatesch would kick her sometimes to get her out of the way, but overall she wasn't acknowledged by him much. I may have pictures I drew of it when I was in high school still. I'd have to look. He was a gatekeeper, and she was just a small servant who fetched and carried for him. In this Pit people were kept in cages, kept low to the ground, where they had to eat and sleep in their own filth. She had gotten used to the smell there, where it was stifling hot. In the distance you could hear people scream on occasion, or cry.

When she was only slightly older, she was moved to another division to work under a man who she always called Black. Black as in his name. Black because he tended to wear Black suits. He was nice and talked to her like she was a real person, and she liked being treated like a little adult. Most of the time with him that I can remember was spent doing things around his office or running down the halls of the complex. It seems as though she could go just about anywhere she wanted to, because she was "Black's Pet", and there are half-remembered hints of games involving colors and shapes. Complex puzzles, and if you go deeper a white room.

It was during those early years she also underwent various other treatments - none of which I can really remember until something on the TV happens to make me uncomfortable. The clearest memory of those treatments is being pulled under sand, having to watch people drown. Nights when she was asked to leave her parents in return for promises of ponies, living in big rich houses, and other luxuries. (She almost went one night, but at the last minute gave a tearful goodbye to her mother and awoke crying back home with her parents where she belonged.)

Only slightly older, and she was sent to the camp in the jungle forest. I'm just not sure the jungle times weren't made up, so I hold those memories in high suspicion. But I can still remember the layout of where things were, the packed dirt of the area. It had a high wooden fence of tall stakes. The gate, which was wide enough for a small car or perhaps a jeep, faced I think to the west. I tend to put gates to the west, so that's probably just a think. You're enter into the gate and see the area. It was roundish. Starting from the left and going around: there was a longish area with stalls and woven doors. Maybe quarters. Maybe horse stalls. I never went into them.

Next to that there was a small storage area with boxes and by that, the place where equipment was kept. Mostly I think it was radios and other things for communication. Next to that was an open area with a pole holding up a vinyl tarp. Then there's a space that I can't remember what was there, but I think of water when I try. And by that, the largish tent directly to the right and a few paces from the gate. That's always where she went directly. She'd report there and inside was a skinny man with black hair. He was like a young Black. She thought of him as "greasy" and he was horrible. He'd kick her and yell at her like she was a dog. He'd send her out into the jungle and from there she had to find the "rebel pockets", the places where people who were resisting the government would build little villages and hide them.

The villages were always well sheltered and inside was real village life. She resembled the people who lived there so she was perfect. She'd show up and they'd take her to be a child from another ruined village, bring her in, feed her, set her to a chore, and sometimes even forget she was there. After a day she'd slip back, contact the greasy man, give him their location, and the last time barely got out of the village in time before the air strike came. She stood on the edge of the village watching things burn and hearing people cry, but she felt nothing. She did this twice at least.

In the real world, her parents would watch documentaries with her and her brother. Documentaries about Pompeii always excited the night terrors because she always relived another past life in which she died young. Documentaries about UFOs - back then no one knew about abductions or thought of abductees as crazy people, and she had no idea her night visions and daydreams were real - fueled the imagination. She wanted to meet the aliens she decided, so age 10 she started going to her back yard and mentally calling the ETs.

Now there are those who say the MKultra and kidnap op program find abductees after they've become so, but who is to say it can't also be the other way around? In her case, something she always knew from infanthood, she was an old soul. She even had a sense of who she was, things she had done, and things she could take up doing. She knew she had been important once, and she also knew that once doesn't always apply to the now. She spent hours every morning doing yoga in the living room floor, age 4. She had no idea what yoga was. It was just part of her routine, as if she'd always been doing it. (She is now fat and doesn't do it anymore, btw.) She littered the woods around the house with booby traps and paths, hiding places, and thought of plots daily to handle invaders should they come. She had no idea why she did it, it was just who she was. She'd always done things like this. She'd always played with fire.

So about age 10 her night terrors changed, and she decided meeting the aliens wasn't such a nifty idea anymore. At first her dolls would come to life after everyone was asleep. She used to scream, wake everyone, and thus escape the "death" the dolls planned for her. So they shut down her ability to scream, so that she spent those dreams trying and trying to scream... straining her vocal chords and not producing a sound. And then they would catch her. She never could remember what they did to her. She could only remember the terror and dreaded the dreams. It got so she never played with her dolls anymore and felt uncomfortable having them face her with their blank eyes.

Nearing teenage years and the night terrors changed into a bright light coming to collect her. In that light she was going to die, she always knew, and the dolls would come. They'd cut her open in the white room while she was awake - trying to kill her. Always trying to kill her.

She wanted to escape the real world so badly. It was a frightening place. It was a place doomed to end, and even though she had no way out she wanted a way out. So she and her older brother looked into alternative realities, portals, Earth timelines, whatever they thought could get them away. They tried opening mirrors, random spots in the woods, they didn't care. Anyplace was better than there.

Shortly after her menarche, a blonde man came through the mirror. She named him George, but he never gave her his name. He took her places: boat rides on the local river, had her help him solve some crimes, and made love to her in the reeds. She really began to look forward to going to sleep, to seeing him again.

But the last time she saw him was in an abandoned house where she had to look into a mirror to see him. He asked her to marry him, and at first she said yes. She really did like him. But suddenly a woman in red velvet skirts came from far away - she was an ancestor from very distant that was irritated she had to come. But she was the only one willing because this child's soul does not belong with the family. "When you hear the puppies barking, watch out for your soul." The puppies barked and the girl turned to her lover, aghast. "You're just using me! No I won't marry you! I rebuke you!"

He was gone, but not forgotten... and heartbroken. He'd come at night for a while, and the room would get very cold. Objects began to sling across the room at her head: bottles, heavy things. Her father finally came one night and told George to go away and not come back. That was the last she ever saw of George.

For months after that her belly swelled. Her mother told her at first that this was normal after a first period, but as time went on she started to wear her clothes baggier and baggier. She didn't swell completely like a woman 9 months along, but she certainly felt heavy and expectant. After a while her mother began to ask her, are you pregnant. Are you pregnant.

She said no of course, because George had only been a demon and a dream. She was still a virgin.

Then one night she dreamed of giving birth to a baby girl. The birth happened in her bedroom and she was attended by men in black suits who took the child right away from her. She can't remember if they said anything to her. Her belly went flat and she resumed a normal cycle average to any teenage girl.

But the alternate world changed forever. At first she was chased in her dreams by the men in black suits who wanted to capture her. She gained the power to turn into a wolf and run away, which she sometimes would do. But on another level she returned to being Black's Pet. She was older now, so she also would go with the black suits to run errands. After the errands in the hall and the office, she'd leave the holding area immediately upon return and go down the hall as quickly as she could. There was a nursery there, where her little girl was being kept. She was allowed to visit as much as she willed, and for a while that was enough. The nurse would meet her at the door and put the baby in her arms, and for a while all was right with the world.

But when the child began to walk she decided that was no longer enough. She began to kidnap the child. She'd take the girl with her, run to the hangars, grab a plane or some small flying vehicle and take off. Those dreams always ended with being chased by a big Kodiak bear. With a single swipe of its claws it could tear apart metal roofs like a knife through butter. To this day she hates bears.

There were other times, too, when she was called to shapeshift. Often it was a wolf, a small black one, and she'd spend the night running with the neighborhood dogs. One night she got into a fight with the alpha male and she woke up with scratches all over her face the next morning. She never changed like that again, but she kept expecting there would be a permanent change one day. She always thought that would be into a wolf, but one night she awoke knowing she had changed and stumbled out of her room. She made it to a mirror by the front door and looked. She gasped, "No," because she wasn't a wolf as she had always hoped. She was a phoenix - bright red and fiery with feather down for hair and red staring eyes with slitted pupils. It was a shock to her system that night, so she stumbled out the front door and fainted on the grass. She woke the next morning in her bed with no idea if that was even real.

There were often times, about once a year, that she found herself in someone else's body. They were girls that usually shared some trait with her in some way - it always surprised her, though, if she was in the body of a blonde. In various locations around the world, she would spend the night isolated while the men in the other room prepared to sacrifice her. Sometimes she felt trapped and wanted out, wept and once even did try to escape. The end was always the same with the alter and the knife, or the water, or even just symbolically killing her by having her sing about it. Year after year after year... it didn't stop until she was in her thirties only a few years ago.

She named her astral daughter "Jennifie" because Jennifer means White, and Jennifie looked just like her pale blonde father. When Jennifie got older she wold help her mother on missions. When she was about 14, she came to see her mother one last time. She showed her mother a set of buffalo tracks and another set of symbols - now forgotten - as a message for the future. And then "Taus" never saw her baby again.

She still misses her.

She became an "untouchable" - her word - meaning she was to stay pure and have no sexual relations with anybody. It was a confusing time. There are memories of looking down on the concept of sex slaves and feeling sorry for them... while at the same time feeling incredible amounts of envy. She wondered what it was like: was it as good as the owners seemed to think it was? And why wasn't she pretty enough to be taken to bed too?

These feelings tore into her psyche, and she still has problems from it today.

Things went silent in the other world for a while. "Taus" married, had children, and settled down for a bit before her ex husband was hit on the head and got abusive. The most that happened to her during this time was living in the forest and setting the guards by the road: tall thing, leaflike creatures with a bow and arrow in hand. To keep her from leaving.

From there it's been a struggle to put information together, to figure out what happened when, to understand. Digging up memories she also figured out that while she was handling her children she was also working her way up through the ranks. Her contact with Black grew less and less, but he was still always there. She made it into an elite team that she called The Six - although when one member died she started calling them The Five. So they could have had any name.

They wore black suits, which also served as temperature controlling armor, and spent some time in a tundra environment. She was not a nice person during this time, she was shocked to remember. It took her a long time to come to terms with that - but it can only make sense. She started out calling in air strikes. Why shouldn't she graduate to handling them herself?

They worked as a team on some missions, but mostly they commanded over others and would meet to discuss plans and future movements. She loved those guys and misses them to this day. Two girls, four guys. Later four guys and only her. One's name was Paul, so she always has thought. But she could be wrong. He saved her once, but she can't remember how now.

She was also married, and her relationship with the silver-eyed man can only be described as that of handler and slave. She loved him more than anything, and their marriage was actually a break of the traditional law. But they cleaved to one another and could never think of going to anyone else. Until the day he died in battle and her heart and mind broke in half.

So that in the real world she ended up in a memory rut for a long time, unable to remember anything past her first life in a small valley named Shiro that may or may not be real. She couldn't function, she couldn't do anything much although she tried. There was something broken inside of her and she just didn't know what it was. When she finally did remember silver-eye's death again, she nearly died that time. She suffered a nervous breakdown and her entire mental matrix, so carefully built by her handlers over all that time, had to be rebuilt. Then she began to heal.

But before the nervous breakdown in New Jersey where she lived, she was attacked psychically for the longest time. The leader was a redheaded woman. When she met that woman in the flesh at a local party, she was surprised. And the woman, oblivious, talked long about how she and her group had detected Lucifer living nearby... and they had been working to kill him. Because Lucifer deserved to die.

She was standing outside of her body one time in the apartment and a samurai stepped through the door. He bowed, she bowed, they leaped to the fight. She woke up with scratches on her face and no clue who won. She would really like to know who won.

Black began to spend a lot of time talking to her as the turn of the century grew near. She loved the talks, the lectures, the visits in her apartment, the teachings. And then he was gone and it was time for her to face trial - which everyone must do at the cusp of their age to see if they shall be allowed to live. She was assigned a young man who wore a large sun on his blue robes. She'll never forget how she lay on the couch as he sat down beside her, ran his hand through his brown loose curls, and said, "Um, okay, wow, this is what I have to work with?" She could feel his shock. He had been expecting this dangerous movie grade sexy Angelina Jolene and instead he was sitting next to a dumpy single mother of two having to defend and guide her through the trial. Poor guy, she often thinks to herself. She wonders what became of him. He seemed nice enough.

She can't remember the trial, only the first time standing on the sands at the bottom of the place she calls "Fishbowl" with all of them staring at her. Those horrible eyes.

She isn't dead so she must have been allowed to live. And from there the dream world took the shape that it still holds today 13 years later. She has a triple life.

She sits at the top of the Fishbowl and looks down on the sand. The description of her seat is "on high with stars overhead". There is a canopy around her and she is slightly isolated. There are two groups of men who will attend her: one is seven members, the other is twelve. And from those days on she has been tugged back and forth as good thing are thrown her way and bad things.

Always growing up she had been pushed into being a cruel person, and she just didn't want to be. She'd killed a crab once and that moment was the moment that determined her need to be kind forever. In the end she's not a kind person. Life has not been kind and these days she thinks that being good has only gotten her abused, so she wonders why she bothers. But then there are moments when she really just wants to be good and not do harm.

So sitting on high she is tugged often between good and evil, as if deciding one way or another is important somehow. She doesn't know. When she thinks about it, she gets an image of herself drinking some tea and ignoring the council pressure. Behind her is a window with a stained glass eight-pointed star. It opens into space, and on solstices they will draw or pull the curtains as a symbol of the next government cycle.

Lately there is a new council with three members that have taken to sitting behind her. They think they are closer to her than the other two groups are. She hasn't not made up her mind yet.

And she doesn't remember her times in the Fishbowl very well when she goes. When she goes.

She also is picked up by those in charge of that night's work and goes to underground train stations, portal rooms, and various things. She isn't treated like she was when Black had charge of her. Most of the time she is followed around with people holding clipboards. When she is left alone she'll sneak off like she has always done and look around. There have been a couple of times she was compelled to do her nails, trim her hair, and try to look as nice as possible. Those times always coincided with secret government meetings and other functions. But these days at work are not the fun they used to be.

And in the real world she works for a living. She's got cats and a dog. She puts her dream world into the stories she writes in the hopes that others will remember and say 'Hey, how have you been?' And maybe they can then tell her what happened to the spacestation she was on when it was attacked - she had been shoved into an escape pod by the underlings who were more concerned about her safety than letting her turn around and find out what was going on. And maybe they can tell her - what happened to Paul? Where is her lawyer?

And most importantly: has anybody seen Jennifie?

Wednesday, October 2, 2013

CIA / MK-ULTRA Hearings - Survivor Testimony 1996

The thing that kind of bothers me is this woman (Kristie Nicola? She wasn't clear.) was born in 1966. I was born in late 1971. That's not that many years apart. But the hypnotherapist I went to told me I was too young to have been part of anything like this, that matters had been stopped long before that.

Monday, September 30, 2013

And the Rocks Cried Out (and Creeped Me Out)

I once went to one of those weekend spiritual gathers. I had hit a strange bout of insomnia before it so by the time I got to the gather I was pretty sleep deprived. I drove up from Florida, exploring along the way.

Two weeks of not sleeping. I was the first one to arrive. I stepped out of my car, put my left foot on earth at the spiritual grounds, and was greeted with a very loud "You're here!!!!" from everything nearby. It was like the rocks practically shouted. (No the rocks didn't shout.)

I spent the next several days being stared at and poked at by every spiritual anything in the area.

I couldn't go anywhere down a path without everything lining up along the side like they were watching the Queen of England go by. They grouped in sizes according to day, too, starting with the little folk and ending with tall ones that loomed over me like trees in the end. And the last few days were spent with me standing in the middle of the water hole as far from land as I could get while watching spiders, dozens and dozens of spiders, climb the rocks to try to get close to me. I mean I was inspected by *everything*.

I was kind of keeping to myself about it for a while. Even if I didn't think I was imagining it, there are just some things you get used to I guess? Getting stared at a lot, even if it had never been quite like that before. Then one of the volunteers, who had just got into voudoin and accepted her spirits into herself, tricked me into her camp to interrogate me all night long. It was like here we go talk talk talk, BTW what ARE you? Everything here is so excited to see you and I want to know what the hell is going on.

I never gave her a straight answer because I wasn't sure myself back then. I told her to ask them what the hell, and she said they're confused. They're saying they have never seen anything like you before. At the time I took that to be slightly disappointing (it would have been nice to know what they saw). I also felt and now even more realize, wait a minute. If they recognized me when I got there then why are they confused and wotnot? Something doesn't add up, unless volunteer was lying or being lied to.

And I don't remember most of the conversation at all. The only part that is clear is when I happened to look around into the night and saw one of the leaf elves off in a guarding position - which is what they do, and no I couldn't tell you what kind of alien they are or what they are - and then it took a draft on a cigarette. My mind was utterly blown, and I went off at the volunteer for a while freaking out because this elf wasn't being all Tolkien at me. It was smoking a cigarette while eavesdropping from about a dozen or more feet away, and that was just so... mortal.

After the talk, the peeping died down (although the spiders did have to take their shot and did) and then the gather was over. I forget where up North it was. I can't remember but I think that was also the year I was given that dream by Hubbard or whichever writer that was.

I was driving home and was just north of Kingsland, Georgia when it hit me while crossing over a bridge. Someone had decided to pull me out of body. It was so strong I couldn't fight it. I pulled over just in time at the bottom edge of the little bridge onto the grass and passed out.

I opened my eyes in the middle of a ritual fire pit and looked up while the volunteer, the gather leader, and a third man stared at me. I can't tell if you if they tried commands or what they were after. I can only tell you it almost killed me.

I woke up in a few hours and went on home. Confronted the leader about it but he denied it indirectly.

I also believe one of the group members who had died just before the gather was using me to channel. I kept hounding this one girl to say things to her even though I didn't know her (she was close to him), and I couldn't control these feelings of abandonment and being left out when people did things like a memorial and I wasn't invited because I didn't know the dragon. Things just kept coming out of my mouth and I had no control. I had gotten some sleep by then, so it wasn't sleep dep. I mean as soon as I set up camp I could finally rest. The sleep dep was over.

As a result of this being used like that I made a complete ass of myself.

So I also took on a new rule. My body. Go get your own, dammit. I've been pretty adamant about that rule. I can channel just like Hollywood, but... no. People are assholes and they don't like to get permission. It's not fair to anyone when that happens.

Friday, September 27, 2013

His response

"I think you're fairly correct on your assumptions. I haven't gotten into the abduction scenario much. Not from disbelief , just hasn't crossed my path. I do know that Dr Persinger was able to reproduce alien abduction in the lab by bombarding the temporal lobes of volunteers brains with ELF. They fully believed they were abducted. His research was Navy funded. So, I believe many abduction cases may in fact be government experimentation with directed energy to make victims believe that's what happened. "

This meant I had another question, so. I asked. It meant I had to go over some old stuff I've already talked about here, so I did it in brief.

"Thank you for taking the time to reply. I have been listening a radio interview with you and Dr. Duncan... and some accounts someone put out from interviews on the matter. I remember Dr. Duncan (was it?) discussing Dr. Persinger's research and how different levels create different sensations. I remember him especially saying at 15 people can't tell if its their thoughts or not. (I'm starting to be able to tell, but you have to be ready to examine yourself all of the time.) So I have another question (or maybe two, depending on how I have to phrase it). I truly hope you don't mind.

In my case I actually woke up in the middle of an abduction exercise. I was "cued", got out of bed and met these two men at the door who realized I was lucid. When they did, one of them stepped behind me and everything goes black. I woke up with a small sore on the back of my head that persisted on being there until only just recently. It's been a couple of years. My daughter also woke up with the same sore, but hers went away faster.

They were wearing dress blues, but not the kind my husband would wear. (He's army.) I can barely remember the layout of the decorations now.

So my question is: can this technology simulate such a memory? I mean, into making you think such a physical thing happened.

Dr. Karla Turner talked about a technology the aliens used she called holographic where the victim would be fooled into believing events were happening. The abductee would go through the entire scenario of aliens coming to them or going to the aliens, have a conversation in which they could be seen interacting with something that's not there, and they would never have to leave their bedroom.

It has come out that a lot of "alien abductions" are not in fact done by non human entities for a while now. But because of this, it is becoming a growing belief that either aliens don't exist or less than 10% are really alien abductions. This is becoming a problem, because I think that with everyone's inability to look at the issue holistically we are missing important details. But I won't bore you with that.

Thank you for taking the time to answer my initial email. I do greatly appreciate it. I will try not to bother you with more questions, it's just realizations coming to fruit you know."

Ramiel Nagel On How To Reverse Root Canals, Cavities, Gum Disease & Tooth Decay Naturally

Thursday, September 26, 2013

another letter I sent out.

Dr. Hall,

I've had your research (rather: the situation) brought to my attention numerous times over the past several years or so, even to the point that I (an ebook formatter) formatted a book written by a TI who seemed very friendly and open to educating... until I got too close and she kind of exploded on me. I would like to read your book, but the truth is in my situation (and others like me) we are kept so impoverished we have to work long hours and reading is a thing of the past. I tried to see if you had your book available in audio so I could listen to it while I work (I work at home) but no luck. I hope you manage to get it into audio someday.

I have a question for you if you don't mind my asking and taking a moment to answer (if you get this). I am a MILAB, and it's thanks to my husband's research that I learned that what little I do remember of my night time excursions as a child match some of the old MKultra training. The old training from before they learned you could induce the mind trauma quickly and cheaper through hypnosis and implanted memories.

I have this problem where I'm not really allowed to have too many people close to me. I've literally watched the more stubborn people grow paranoid and fearful over time, and the more they fought to stay in my life the worse things got until one day they would leave in a traumatic and painful affair. When I was younger, I had several people who were interested in doing things with me come a day later and tell me "their spirit guides" had told them to leave and have nothing to do with me. I had one boyfriend get abducted with me and was just horrified by what he seemed to remember but would not share. I've watched people's faces as, while they're talking to me, their thoughts literally shift and they create a distance. That's enough in a nutshell, but there are a lot of examples. They're not all spiritual related. It has happened at schools, at home, wherever. It doesn't matter.

When I was much younger my own "spirits" told me I had to be separate, that I was an untouchable and an example. And it's been a long life of loneliness and pain... and yes even suicide attempts. It will ebb and flow depending on my activities, but even when I try to run by moving it stays on my back like white on rice.

Now I know that 40 years of this leads to a jaded personality and the inability to trust, so these days some of the issues are mine. I know that I have negative moments. I know if I start to share what has happened to me people sometimes burst into tears, as if those tears could somehow make it all go away. But sir, I have contacted every UFO and MILAB researcher there is in my quest for the truth and a desperate leap to try to get the help I need. In literally each and every contact, something has happened and contact has been cut. Some wouldn't get involved because I wouldn't accept Jesus Christ as my personal lord and savior. One's wife died and he just... went away... One experienced financial ruin. I had a psychiatrist hang up on me, I had another tell me I was a "garden variety" nervous wreck after only one visit and that I had nothing to worry about. Don't get me started on the very traumatic time I managed to save enough money to get hypnotherapy done. Eve Lorgen, who managed to keep talking to me the longest, faded herself out... I can only guess that she decided I wasn't good for her. I do have to tread carefully around people. I don't know why but when I'm talking, people get hurt. And I honestly don't know why... because my account of being captured by Greys can't be any different than the other abductee's account. Yet somehow my stories alienate people, and usually the alienation happens as if someone just flipped a switch.

I try to make contact with others like me: I have tried to establish numerous support groups in the interest of being some sort of positive mote in this. I have had take overs, push outs, petty politics, and the most recent time a man who called himself Iron Buddha came to my meetings, told everyone he was a government employee, and proceeded to use careful phrasings to discourage people (while supposedly encouraging them) and bust the group apart. I could be paranoid. I could be crazy - my little brother hears voices and didn't make it out of the abuse the way I did - but after 50 or so tries to create ties you begin to wonder if it's not you.

This brings me to my question. Have you come across anyone that is in a similar situation like me that is being targeted by the mind control rays? Is it possible they also use this technology to keep slaves in check and isolated, to keep the herd in their respective pens as it were? What if that's how this technology was originally used and why it was originally put into place and now that we have these young little turds taking the place of everyone that's retiring, we have this rampant sexual abuse problem?

I'm not saying that this would be the only way to keep your slaves in control, but with MKultra I've noticed that really it's a matter of handler preference coupled with strategic choices and a variety of techniques - which make things slightly harder to track you have to admit. So on top of suicide programming and a host of other things... there is this as well?

And is there any legitimate way to line the walls of your bedroom to protect your family? Lately there have been other problems happening around here. Just the other day in the hall I was on the phone talking to the only contact I have left and hit someone with my backside. I turn around and there was no one there. I wasn't near the wall. And it felt like flesh. I felt them bump slightly, as if they just didn't move out of the way fast enough. And that's just one thing.

The part of me that knows things - the part that will ponder why the air around a Beamship is thick enough to grab or knows about the black goo that drips off of American personal spacecraft that just reentered the atmosphere - says to me that this is not 100% me. That yes, part of it is an attempt to keep me isolated from everyone else. But am I just being crazy like my little brother?

I hope you can give me some answers.

Thank you,


Tuesday, September 24, 2013


I have had RH negative blood. I'm type AB. And when I was pregnant with my son, my blood was RH negative. But my husband's blood was RH positive. This put my son at risk of dying an infant death - something that happened to my eldest brother - so they gave me a shot to make the problem go away. So that after the birth my blood was RH positive. I can't remember if my blood was negative or positive when I was pregnant with my daughter, but I do remember the shot which they gave me because of what happened with my son. I found an article talking about how if you have RH negative blood and a high IQ you might be part alien. But I look at my family history and the fact that my family grew up watching documentaries and smart people things, and I gotta say: if you're raised in a smart environment there's a pretty good chance you'll end up smart. No reptilian blood required. RH negative may just happen to be a human condition that might account for the millions of cradle deaths over the centuries, and nothing more. Like appendicitis. It's like people saying that glamoring is an alien trait, or something for humans with alien blood. And it's all so messed up. Apparently the Sumerian Annunaki took their DNA and created the modern human race out of Lucy, but yet there are only some select people who have alien DNA. Do you people realize how stupid that sounds? If the Annunaki or some other alien race perpetuated a rushed evolution of humanity through mingling of their DNA, then *everyone* of human descent has this proverbed alien DNA. Ergo, therefore, and other simple logic that gets thrown out the window. And what this means is you're not effing special for being able to point to your extra rib and say you're not quite human because it simply is not true. And maybe it's my red background that gives me the following knowledge, but glamoring is not a strictly alien talent. It's not something select people are given by their alien masters in this day and age. It's a very *human* trait. If you track back shamanistic glamoring and shapeshifting, you'll find a common theme. Shamans can do it - they're taught to harnass this ability by their mentors. Lycanthropes did it, and others. I mean sure there are predators that have used the ability to prey on human kind. But there are just as many humans who can do it. If you connect yourself inside and listen to yourself you have a better chance of finding it. And some people think you have to be born an innate shaman to become a shaman. Well that's bullshit too. Yes, there are some people whose gifts are strong enough that being a shaman is the best course. It is a proven fact that practicing magic will balance hormones and calm someone with depression or some other chemical imbalance. In other words, magical people have a medical need to be magical. However, there are other people who just wanted to be it and went out and learned. One of the best psychic leaders the government ever employed started out as a guy that was recruited just because, that had no imagination whatsoever, and he grew to be very strong indeed. Alien blood not required. Now don't get your panties in a wad. If you think you're part reptilian/annunaki/martian because of your RH negative blood maybe that's true. But because it's not *necessarily* true I have to question using that as a deciding factor of your human ancestry. And if you're telling me it's always true because some alien contact told you it was true, I have to swing back to Karla Turner's philosophy: The aliens have been proven to be consummate liars. The aliens have proven to be manipulators, life ruiners, and baby thieves. The aliens tell their pets they're special and give them "missions" that never hold true. ("I'm a super powerful alien because I have RH negative blood!" equals "I'm special!" by the way.) And even if the aliens are telling the truth, it is only hearsay. And hearsay does not hold in a court of law, in logic, in the scientific process. Hearsay, in my experience, only holds in church. And in church, hearsay is nitpicked by the people who only say what they want to hear. Get me some reptilians willing to give me blood samples. Give me their human hybrid children. Let me test that DNA to prove a family connection. And then let me see that RH negative or positive connection. I'm willing to look at some real data. But lately I've noticed that not many people are collecting hard data anymore. It's scary, how badly we're undercutting ourselves in our desperate need to feel special. It isn't that you aren't special. It's just that you're claiming to be special for things that everyone has. I believe in deeds. It was a deed that put this wheel into motion. It will only be deeds that can free humanity and allow us to take our rightful place as sentient equals in the universe.

Monday, September 23, 2013

Little Girls Coming at me at Night....

Starting with a story as is my habit. :-)

A few years ago when I was living in Jacksonville, FL (a hot spot) I was sleeping on the couch one weekend when I woke up to a little girl standing at the foot of my bed. My first thoughts were to wonder why my daughter was standing there. Then I realized a couple of things. 1. My daughter was visiting her father for the weekend. 2. My daughter had stopped being that short a long time ago. I realized I was being faced with an intruder.

The silhouette in the dark was cute, I have to admit, and it was holding something in its hands. It started toward me. A sensible adult (which I'm not) would have stood up and fought back. Or thrown pillows at it. I lay there, and I screamed. My thought was to get the rest of the people in the house to come save me I guess. I screamed and screamed and screamed. The little girl walked closer and closer, trying to get to my head. When she got to about my chest area I started to sit up to get violent. That's when the lights were on, my roommates stumbled into the room groggily, and the little girl was just gone.

For the record a call to a MUFON contact I had didn't even get a report made. Another call to a friend of mine got me a groggy response and very little sympathy. LOL.

I couldn't talk for a week I had screamed so much. And we had no idea what it was. Maybe a demon, maybe this maybe that. Couldn't have been a grey, we decided, but maybe I had also imagined it because I was really into watching Inuyasha at the time and there was a little girl character that carried a mirror around in it.

Last night I came across something on Youtube about the Alien Race Book from the KGB. It supposedly was leaked a few years ago, is still updated and given to top operatives, and has been the inspiration for movies and video games. But there was my intruder! The race is called "Kiily-Tokurt" and they are abductors.

So my question to you guys is:

How valid is this purported alien race book?
If they are real, is there more information about these little suckers?
Why didn't they do the freeze ray thing on me? I was sure gonna kick some butt.

On another note, I emailed Max Spiers being as he claims to be out there to help other MILABS. This was a while ago. No response.

Friday, September 20, 2013

Tooth decay - How to Prevent and Reverse it

I have decided this blog will have health news every Friday or so. Give or take. On this matter here that I've posted, I actually managed to heal a small root cavity I found. So yes, it's possible to heal your cavities. Just.. if the cavity has become a gaping hole like one I have no to much I think.

Friday, September 13, 2013

I was very amused that while discussing certain things way back then, Bob Lazar made sarcastic comments about bombs going off in Iraq and Baghdad.

Thursday, September 12, 2013

The Rainbow Oracle

You can find the ebook version here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00F3IYWZS

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Tax Rant Take 2!

I realize that today is a day where people are giving honor to the folks who died in the towers, but blogs and life must go on. Wish the event didn't happen, but it can't be undon. If life didn't go on I wouldn't have gotten a tax letter today. Remember when I predicted that they'd find some reason to have a problem with my taxes?

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Home Invasion

I've been thinking about this since it happened the other day.

There's something in our house, something sage doesn't chase off. And I think its attached itself to my husband. There's a long list of symptoms and physical manifestation.
First, it's been lurking around us since we moved to Fort Polk. I'm used to having things come in and out of the house and try to start trouble, but this one has been lingering a bit longer than usual. Since we moved to the new house it either has gotten stronger or braver.
At first things would get moved around, etc. Then the other day my husband and I were sitting watching tv and watched as a rolling chair moved itself across the room. Which let me know things were escalating a bit.

But I'm used to co-existing, you know, so I just let it go. Last night though was the cream on the cake: the sucker became a visible male-height shadow when it thought no one was looking and even gave me a most weird nightmare. 
It's kind of sad and funny at the same time with the nightmare. The nightmare was vague at first, as if there was an element of unsurity with building it. There was this girl with a brown ponytail and she was in this weird box frame. Her wrists were spread, bound to the box over her head.
Then the creature came. It was simply a man where I couldn't see the face, and all over its body were these weird raised scars that I thought of as circuitry. As the dream progressed the circuits changed to weird worms embeeded on its skin. 
It started to chatter its teeth. The chattering sound was loud and as the dream went on the sound began to sound more and more like a typewriter. The chattering caused the girl a lot of pain, and there she begged out of my line of sight. Oh please God mercy, oh god oh god.  
Then the creature's face became more clear, and I could tell that his mouth was peeled back very wide so that it was almost his face peeled back. There were metal wires holding back the skin in a rectangular shape. And he chattered there with his muscles showing.
I thought to myself, "That actress's voice is familiar. I wonder who she is." And I woke up.
When I told my husband of the nightmare yesterday morning. "That's Hellraiser," he said to me a little quizzically. I'd only gotten as far as describing the chattering. My husband proceeded to describe the rest of the monster to me.

Well I've never seen the Hellraiser movies. Just the thought of them is upsetting. My husband on the other hand has watched Hellraiser at work recently when he was given night duty.

So this means the sucker is following my husband around or knows about the movies somehow. I guess because I'd reacted to seeing the Hellraiser movies on Netflix from where my husband had been watching them it thought that would upset me. But as I was coming out of the dream I remember sensing it standing in the room staring at me.

So I proceeded to call a friend and make fun of the silly creature's pathetic attempt to scare me all day. This won't be the first time I've made fun of it. It will be the best example of how it's obvious it's there.

Listening to an interview by Robert Bruce who specializes in things like that, he mentions how they like to put bad thoughts in our mind. My husband and I got into a big fight and he certainly has changed in a lot of negative ways since coming here. He's a hell of a lot more selfish. And the thought of leaving him because of how childish and stupid he's been has been in my mind a lot.

But what if a lot of this were that buggly? Or "neg" as Robert Bruce calls them?

The current plan is to tell the neg where else it can go. And then to see about making it go away forever in case it doesn't upon suggestion. If I can just figure out how.

Tax Rant!

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Cow Mutilations

I listened to Coast to Coast last night and, good thing too because there was a lady on there talking about cow mutilations. Which is something I've never been able to find good information on when I've had time to look. So I listened to her and finally formed a question. "Are all the mutilations on females?"

I'd never heard of this woman before, mind you.

When I couldn't get through on the call line I emailed her and asked because I really wanted to know. She took the time to email me back this morning. There was *one* male mutilation. Oh, and she was a little butt hurt that I hadn't read her books. Lady, I didn't know you existed before last night! You ain't THAT famous.

But in my email I drudged up some memories for her use and shared. This of course meant that I was now thinking of said things when I went to bed. I woke up a bit later the way I do feeling something on my chest. Then my left ovary started to hurt as if it were being cut. This woke me up all the way thinking "The Greys! Are they operating?"

The heavy thing on my chest was my cat and the pain was a cramp I get from time to time. Oddly I thought to myself, still groggy, 'No, stop it!' and it went away.

And you lay there thinking that even if you're telling yourself these things for attention or people accuse you of talking about them all of the time because you need mental help, you can't be consciously dealing with it for attention if you're waking up in the middle of the night scared it's happening again. Not scared your cat is smothering you, that you're being raped by an intruder, or that you're hemmoraghing. You're waking up scared you're on the table again, and that's what you come out of slumber preparing to defend against.

 I've been researching on Skunk Works trying to find something as that is the only real lead I have right now. It's not easy material to find. At least for me: my computers never seem to yield good search results for some reason. Folks who don't live here have come over and seen the difference themselves.

EDIT: she later told me there were thousands of male mutilations. Turned out to be a nice lady.

Friday, August 30, 2013

Not really the point of this blog but...

... something that should be paid attention to.

And I found a bunch of people on Youtube that were all about helping him. So yes, the racism we're told isn't real? It's there on such a level of hate you wouldn't believe.

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Parents Blame Obama Administration for Seal Team 6's death

I told my husband, "Seal Team 6 is dead." And he didn't even know. This has been on the news, but... yet people don't know about it. So, here.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Pacific Time Follow Up

I wish I knew why the hell people find my posts about things disjointed. I had also posted my "Pacific Time" post to Abovetopsecret to see if maybe some people might have something to say about the current MKultra phenomenon. I reread the post and to me it's quite, quite clear. It's presents the information in linear time. It doesn't hint. It says bluntly I even woke up during an abduction. And it just talks, after stating very clearly that maybe other people would have input.

I got your typical response from places like that. One person said "Do you even understand what you're saying?" because apparently they didn't. And I got accused of having a mental issue for fixating on it and being in need of a psychiatrist - not for fixing the mind control damage. *rolls eyes* I did not get a single bit of intelligent exchange, or communication, or anything like that. I was reminded why I rarely ever post in places like that.

These are people who supposedly want to research things like that, to make a difference, to turn the corruption around. And that's the response I got. Wow.

My husband got offended at me today because that stupid Revolution show had me bawling my eyes out while I washed dishes at the sink. He's mad because I supposedly don't give people a chance. When I said that every time I try to let someone close to me they go away or they do like the reaction I just read at that stupid forum. Of course he's the kind of person, he goes to whatever he's doing and he has a great time talking about shallow things like video games and toys and walks away thinking he made some pretty damn good friends. Whereas I'm a more quality type person. And it's true - my post is a good example of it. People just can't handle the water when it gets more than ankle deep.

Had another friend who I turned to needing to talk... she was suddenly unavailable. And you know, I rarely have the need to talk about this kind of stuff - I mean, not in a "I need to talk because I'm hurting" sense. Sure I'll talk about it, but it's not often I'm reduced to tears and made to feel small and vulnerable about it. And I needed a friend today. I really needed a friend. But that's not what I got, unfortunately. Which is normal.

No, I don't see the point in giving people a chance. I don't see the point not only because I couldn't care less about people much anymore, but because I simply do not have the time to waste. Nor the money. So screw it.

Just screw it.

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Pacific Time

So l lately around the house my husband and I have begun to notice things getting moved in his computer hutch and wotnot - areas I don't bother in the waking world at least. And at least once the time on his laptop - which I hate - had been changed to Pacific time. We couldn't make any sense of it, really, except that the physical clues this was being done and not a computer error had our eyebrows lifted.

So yesterday my husband tricked me into watching something with triggers in it. That stupid Revolution show? Yeah. On top of feeling like I was watching one long rerun and wondering how quickly it will take for me to find the dreams I've been having that match it perfectly in my dream diary (from before this show started to run), the pilot sent me bawling to the bedroom where I ended up hiding on the floor by the bed. I haven't done that in a long long time - and only rarely I'm normally a lot stronger about things - but seriously that show didn't just have one trigger you could smooth over. It had minutes of ten triggers happening at once. Talk about overload.

Then I got left alone all night because my husband is working graveyard. And I knew I was probably going to work, and I knew the triggers that had been hit were the kind that agitates the alter. But today... my computer was set on Pacific time.

No physical signs of moving about. Nothing like that. Just the time change.

Now I know me, I know my after work habits. They're habits we all share. What do we do? We check our emails and chill, then we sometimes go to bed. I suspect that's what she's doing... she's checking something, noticing the clock is off (for her), "fixing it" (another habit of mine) and then going back to bed.

But mind you I also have entertained the possibility the computer somehow set itself to Pacific time when I reinstalled the software last week even though I would have told it Eastern or Central (depending on my habit) and the clock has been accurate all up until today. :-)

It's a physical clue at least, right? Pacific time. That's a real physical clue.

The Real Reason Israel Attacked Syria

Syria is on everyone's mind lately. Now I know, "we politics what the hell." Well the whole machine is involved with MKultra, not just a bunch of half naked popstars.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Ever get tired of the race card being used as a "burn witch burn" excuse?

And did many of you know that most of the people burned, drowned and beaten to death for being witches were actually done this way to remove them politically in order for the quid pro quo to claim their assets? It was never about religion at all. THINK about it.

I don't normally agree with Alex Jones. I think he has blown many chances to be a good example on the part of the things he claims to stand for. There have been times I've double checked his facts and discovered that what he was saying was exaggerated, sometimes to levels I simply can't condone. But. I then there are times he and his channel make a good point - and the fact that they manage to get people to open their eyes at all is a very important thing.

But always check the facts. Always look twice. Don't buy it as if you were a sheep. Be a ram.

That being said, this was something to pay attention to:

Tuesday, August 20, 2013


"Jennifer White" has something to say about a newspaper article. Woo hoo.

For those who don't know, Jennifer White is a fictional character I play whose life and personal situation are based on my real life dealings. Some parts of her are fictional. It's up to you to guess which parts.

 If you find interesting news articles related to UFO or paranormal activity, send it my way. I'll even give you the address I'm not living at. =^-^=

Friday, June 21, 2013

An old image, a new revelation

Driving puts you in an automatic trance - when you first start to learn hypnotherapy you most likely will be told that.  When you're as close to remembering as I was, it means information is bound to pop into your head. This happened to me one day when I was driving the hour's drive from my house to the nearest art supply store.

The image that popped into my head was, I thought, that of some sort of thermal reactor power source. I grabbed a handy scrap of paper and sketched it as soon as I could, but unfortunately I wasn't able to give the detail I had seen. The diagram in my head didn't have much for labeling, but in that instant I knew what each part was for, why it did what it did, how deep everything was, the works. What came out on paper was this:

It's very deep, I can't remember how far deep, and doesn't need to be near a river although in this case I was thinking of it being near a river - but I also was about to drive over the Mississippi River. The heat and the cold have different levels, with the heat occupying the top half of the walls. The scribbly lines there is water in a containment unit that encompasses the entire thing. And it's a few years later since I've drawn this and I can't remember what the rest means. This was a quick sketch of how the unit used the earth's natural temperatures and natural resources to power itself and things attached to it, such as a facility. I wish I could remember exactly how it worked, because that explanation there isn't very close.

Today I was listening to a clip from some interviews concerning the Malmstrom incident. A diagram was put up of the facility and I have had to stop the footage. Here is what I see.

It's my design. These missiles are not thermal power devices as far as I can tell: not even the same creature. Except that later in the interview the gentleman mentions the missiles are self-supporting. And it's what was in my head.

I don't know who personally designed the thing - most likely definitely not me - but I do know one of my dominant other sides of life works on things like this. She's repaired space objects, she has a team, and... I knew about this.

I wish I could remember. I don't want to die not remembering.

I had a dream about implants last night. Ha! My fault for worrying about them so much. The thing was behind my ear again, but it was flat so that the lump would be faintly noticeable. But I knew it was there and kept picking at it.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Super Soldier Summit

This year's Super Soldier Summit was this past weekend. As a poor person who can't manage to get together the money to pay her hiked taxes, I obviously couldn't afford to go. And am a little bummed by it. So many others have stepped forward, and it would have been nice to just come, sit and listen.

I'm not going to say "maybe next year" but finances never seem to get better for me to afford something so expensive.

There are still a lot of things for me to talk about, there always will be, but physical confirmation happened recently and I need to record it.

One the right side of my mouth I have a cavity problem. I've already had to have one tooth pulled, and the one next to where it was has a bad cavity. And tends to get infected. It got infected this last time so badly the flesh around it was extended and the infection just kept coming out. When I finally managed to fight it off (we have dental insurance but can't afford the dentist) it left bad damage there. A big flap of skin that was no longer attached just annoyed the living hell out of me.

One morning a few weeks ago and my mouth was full of blood. Blood was all over my lips, etc. As I recently  had switched tooth care tactics and had even seen one small cavity  heal, I thought at first I had regressed and my mouth was bleeding all night. I brushed it out, cleaned up, did the fish oil, etc that I do, and went about my day.

I was aware I had been going to work again, but everything is such a background hum for me since they caught on I was remembering that all I can now is reach for the feeling.

But you know how it is - when there's a sore in your mouth, a cavity, or just something wrong you automatically pick at it with your tongue. So after a bit I realized, wait a minute. The skin area is gone, and it's sore as if it's been sliced away.

I checked - and yes, it was a clean slice. Very clean. My mouth had been worked on.

Oh, the cavity is still there. But that skin is not. And after that the healing rate of my mouth went back to where I've been  having it: no bleeding gums, etc.

It it not physically possible for me to have bitten it off, and if I had it would have been ragged. Not a clean slice.

So that, hey. They fixed my mouth a little bit.

I've heard of other accounts where people in the program and alien slaves get fixed up because their handler decides giving their pet a shot might be a good thing. Never thought it would happen to me.

So maybe I'll do some research on that phenomenon for a while. See what I can dig up.

Monday, May 20, 2013

I had this to say once ...

April 13, 2010

The rollercoasting memory-recall method I developed around 2000 and was teaching heavily from then until just past 2003? Apparently the psychology community is now claiming to have developed this in 2003 and is starting to practice it with patients.

Irritated? You betcha. Yet another reason why I am reminded how glad I am to have gotten away from the hate and negativity of the Otherkin community.... I *do* remember how many of them were people about to get their psychology master degrees. I also remember how many of the couple of dozen were honest enough to say, "Hey. I'm just a human and I'm here for educational and/or informational purposes.


So I'm reminded even more to keep to myself and not share what I know much.

Something happened with my gumline and jaw recently. I haven't had time to tell the story, but I shall eventually.

Monday, April 29, 2013

A History of the Otherkin

A long, long time ago I was a very devout Otherkin.

This was before I knew what UFOlogists knew, or MILABS, or anything of the kind. And I believed with all my heart and soul in the Otherkin subculture movement. I would have laid down my life to help those people I thought of as brethren.

Well, things happen. Negative things, positive things.  For example. I watched others in the community wave their peacock feathers "I was a princess in another life" and butt heads over who should rule this or that, or who should be the supreme princess. Or prince. Or in one guy's case the sole heir to the universe that was somehow also elected as the supreme leader through an intergalactic election.

But my inner guides said not to say anything about who I was; just to say "yes I am this" and let it go for the truth would win out and the REAL others would see who I truly was on their own. Some did, with mixed reactions. One actually got on his knees and swore fealty. Another who was also claiming to be "this" started a flame war at me - silly upstart bard.

Mostly there were other things: backstabbing things. Petty politics things where I was talked bad about by the very people I would have done anything to protect - accused of doing things I never did. Called names. Talked down about. One guy tried to take advantage of me, and when I told him no and dared to speak out got me ostracized. My life was hell so long as I stayed with them, and I couldn't quite get that this was because I was going against my natural shamanistic flow. These days I know how power works, and your place in the universe. And I still marvel at how my life literally did a 180 degree turn for the good when I walked away from the Otherkin forever, saying "You are lying to yourselves, and I cannot be one of you any longer."

Their final malicious act: to take my new husband to the side to "have an intervention" because they were concerned that he was with me. They wanted us to break up. No one knew we were married yet - I had convinced him to keep it a secret. Surprise to them. And I found out months later at least two of those same people were members of the Otherkin thing. So it goes.

I was no innocent, but I was certainly trapped by a circumstance of my own making. There are a lot of good people in the Otherkin movement - for some reason I only met them briefly and couldn't recognize good people for bad.  I thank my lucky stars I finally woke up and got away. Because when looking into the UFO culture I saw a 100% match between what the scientists were finding out vs. what the Otherkin were remembering on their own.

Still, I did take a lot of good away from those years. It wasn't the Otherkin that taught me to trust people less, but it was the Otherkin that taught me how to predict what someone will do next. Like when the first LOTR movie came out and I said "You watch. We're going to get people joining up saying they're Tolkien elves, but I'm telling you this is going too far. Tolkien's elves were a metaphor." I was ignored, pointedly. And sure enough, they came.  That event I think was my first eyeblink at this fabricated nonreality.

I have a necklace a true dragon - the only true dragon I met out of the dozens claiming to be dragons reborn in the Otherkin community - that I cherish. When she gave it to me I was at a point in my life where the memories of my other side were very strong and just getting on the edge of painful. And I felt like no one would ever know who I truly was. I would always be invisible.

It has the Chinese royal seal on it: peacock, dragon. She handed it to me and said, "This is for you, because when I look at you this is what I see."

I stood there holding that necklace and the tears just fell down my face.  And to this day it's my special thing, guarded carefully.

Another good thing I brought out of being with the Otherkin is the Allthing. It's a yearly gather I hold near to wherever I live at the time. I have a website dedicated to it that I usually ignore at http://thingstead.wordpress.com/. The old website used to be http://anotherotherkin.tripod.com - but it no longer fits. Still, when I think to deal with Thingstead I'll hung up the old website and pull things over. Today I pulled some things over from the old Book of Shadows section.

And found on Google a history of the Otherkin where my old website is mentioned.

I am not in the least bit interested in reading the history, although it's clear I am mentioned somehow. Not when I think of all the false talk that happened behind my back; the lies, manipulations, etc. I can't trust that history to be true.

And I am so tired of lies.

I don't wish to discuss the Otherkin here any more. Ever. But they were so much a part of my life, I wonder if I can make that possible.

Monday, April 22, 2013

Speaking Of.... slrp

While we're on the subject of reptilians, I think I should share two of my wide awake physical brushes with them. Now, this has nothing to do with being approached by a reptilian in the night when I was just beginning a comic about them that was meant to portray them in an utterly ridiculous light. That was a purposeful encounter, and those you must always examine suspiciously because so much can be and has been faked. Lies are all around us.

These were two accidental encounters, and that's why I hold them to be so real. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Or the wrong time, maybe. Depending on your point of view.

The first time was when I and my daughter moved to a small town located about three hours east of St Louis, Missouri. My husband was in Iraq at the time, and we had just bought the house of my dreams - and I mean it was literally of my dreams. The thing I had dreamed about, wished for, and hoped for my entire life right down to how the open bar looks in the basement. We were leaving Jacksonville, Florida behind - and that being a hotspot in which I witnessed a lot of things - so I thought moving to this little town was going to be a nice quiet change. I was in for a scarey surprise.

We got there, settled in after some drama with the local officials who went so far as trying to accuse me of stealing my husband's identity in order to forestall the final signing of our house's paperwork, and life set to resume. In fact if you see my video blogs you can even see when we moved and notice the change.  And all should have been a hustle of unpacking and learning our new town.

But I, being taught to feel and be aware at least on a low skill level, couldn't sleep at night. I could feel them all around me - there was a huge cluster of minds all watching me. They were aware I was there, they were watching carefully, and the foremost emotion they put out was wondering if I was a threat. It was very uncomfortable, and I was a bundle of nerves. I only slept during the day, when the "psychic eyes" seemed less trained on me and it felt safe.

Being an author, I got booked to make a public appearance in Joplin, Missouri. My daughter who was about fourteen at the time, and I loaded into the car and we started driving. We had to go through St. Louis to get there and hit the city sometime in the evening, but even as we hit the outlying farmland areas on the outside of the city I could feel them. It was scarey - more minds than I had ever felt before, and I knew I was sensing a large scale movement above ground that was very special. The minds were all bend and shaped in that way people get when they have an intense purpose.

We crossed the bridge into St Louis, passed the arch, and as my daughter oggled the sights and crooned I felt them moving around. There were hints of water, smells of underbrush, and then suddenly it just shut off. I knew, then, that they had ground their prey. And I knew it was a young girl. I said to my daughter that they had caught someone. A couple of more miles down the road, when we were a little past halfway through St Louis, and the city went on amber alert. A young girl had been taken.  It was the saddest confirmation I had ever received in my life.

The rest of my time living up there was spent in fear, knowing I was so close to one of the reptilian hives that still practices the girl hunts when my daughter was just at the right age they seem to prefer. After a while the minds stopped watching me at home, but I never stopped watching out for them.

When my husband was on his second deployment to Afghanistan I saw one in the flesh. I was in Hobby Lobby - I kid you not - looking for supplies when this woman happened to be in the same row as me. I looked at her, and she looked at me. I could feel her attention - not sure how I got it - and her eyes were black pools. They were beautiful eyes, mind you, but they didn't look right... and as I stared briefly I could find no hint that they were because of contact lenses.

"N... nice eyes, "I literally stammered. 

She thanked me and I ducked to the next row. You'd think that would be it, but I could feel her following me as I talked with my friend... first about the woman's eyes in one brief sentence, and then about whatever mundane thing I could find. The woman followed me from row to row, her always on the other side, as I pretended to shop and act like I'd noticed nothing weird. I saw her head cocked when there was a gap, listening.

So, because the situation was both scarey and a bit provoking, I decided to try a trick from Babylon 5. Babylon 5 being a TV show, well, you can't take any of it seriously. But what the hell. I started playing Mary Had A Little Lamb in my head over and over. I focused on that song while continuing the conversation.

That was when the reptilian ... or whatever she was... decided I wasn't anything and went away.

I tried very hard to get my MUFON contacts to come to the area and investigate with me, but they never would. And that is where that tale ends. 

Monday, April 15, 2013

Lizards in Action

I was actually looking form something completely different when I came across apparent footage of a Reptilian body guard at a government function. I sat, I watched, I backed up, and I watched again. Usually when I watch things that people put out on the internet like this, I figure it's not completely real. There have been plenty of things I saw that were apparently just cases of people wishing things were there. But this time, well. I'm going to treat this as real, the debate isn't whether it is or not.

There was a reptilian who once came to me to discuss a story I was writing. Apparently my representation of them as a people was a matter of grave concern. I was in Tampa at the time. I'll never forget how I stared at his orange jump suit, studying the folds in the cloth, wondering why on earth he had to wear such a human military thing unless he was part of the American army. And I remember, also, how humanoid he appeared. Not at all covered in ridges or anything like people picture them.

The ridges can show, but well, let me show you the footage.

Let's be serious in our exploration, and what I'm going to say I know from my head. I haven't opened any books to study what others have to say yet. I will begin tonight now that things have been confirmed.

1. He weaves back and forth. While weaving back and forth, his ears are out and look rather like a frill. (For an example of a frill see further down the post.) He's attentive, looking around, and being very watchful. Mind you, I've seen lots of humans act like that and me too when happy so the behavior is 100% off... but there's more.
2. When he stops looking around and being attentive, he "shapeshifts". That's not really shapeshifting, and I'm not really sure why people call it that. It's not even close to glamoring, which is another skill entirely. If you look, the frill has went down and the ridges shift much like if you flexed your muscles. He basically is expressing an emotion, state of being, or feeling. In this case I took it to mean "all looks clear, am going to stand down a bit now."
3. His humanoid features become even less pronounced when he stands down and he manages to look even more "alien". Even in the dark of the room you can tell he's different. No need to enhance the footage or zoom in. Just compare and contrast.

Something that I find amusing is we'll compare ourselves to apes, find all sorts of similarities with chimpanzees and use them as a model to understand ourselves better, but we can't seem to make the same connection with the other natives of this planet. And it's so much common sense, that I think even without a BA in anthropology I'd get it.

Some of the reptilians are of early reptile descent. Some are "hoary" lizards. And some regard themselves as avians and are a little vain about it. (One of my alters included.) This reptilian, I think, is closer to the dinosaur breed, the ones closely linked to birds. (If you didn't know, birds are dinosaurs evolved. Our modern lizard is from a different ancestor in many cases.)

Birds and some reptiles have some behaviors in common because of that common ancestor: weaving when on the look out or threatened, having a frill, and being able to shift parts of their bone structure to suit certain things.

So you learn them, you learn their body language, you learn how to talk to them. Know thy enemy, if you must. If that one is one of the enemy.

And with this little bit, their apparent shapeshifting and even what that guy was doing there becomes defined, real, touchable, a little mundane and above all - more on a serious level for us to process, understand, and decide how to react to without a bunch of mumbo jumbo getting involved.

Here's a couple of lizards. And a snake, weaving.

This is also the part where I suggest once again that if reptilians think we should still be in the food chain, they can be just as tasty.