Planet of the Apes

Date and time: 2003-08-10 16:15:00
  
I don't think this dream was of any significance. It was ape planet scenario: humans enslaved or wild humans being hunted. I was a wild human that had learned to act enslaved so I wouldn't be killed. I was thinking of going into the trees and disappearing forever. There was a mall-like building we were in... I stayed up until after 2 putting things together and preparing to run. Humans were coming out during those hours because the enslavers (who wren't apes, they looked kinda human except their noses were ridged) slept no matter what.

I go through my dream journal a lot to see if I can find more clues, and there are a lot of entries that I dismiss as only dreams. But I see this dream now and I think, maybe it was important after all. I've had a lot of "training dreams" located in malls, but not watched a lot of movies that involve such scenarios. Hell, I never even saw my first mall until I was nearly 20 years old. I grew up in the country. Didn't go anywhere much.

But, I guess in this dreams case now that I look again, maybe it was only me filtering information into my mind. Which is what dreams are for. Nothing more than that.  

I probably will start listing dreams here whether they're important or not, just in case.

Time to be super

List of "super soldiers" or MKultra militant operatives that have come forward that I know of. I might be confused on some of them. I dunno.

Anya Briggs
James Casbolt (Michael Prince)
Max Spiers

Cathi Morgan
Alara Blackwell
John Urwin
Solaris BlueRaven
Sheila House
James Rink
Richard Rodgers
Duncan O'Finoian
"Soldier X"
Axe
Aaron McCollum
Michael Relfe

There are many more I'm sure.

The super soldier "creation" timeline according to everyone else.* This is fitting myself and others I have found in as best I can, knowing that such fittings are mostly theory.

Pregenerational Era
1930's-1940's - Nazi Germany. Hitler is approached by super men about which he talked about in Mein Kampf. They were tall, blonde, beautiful, and better than everybody else. If you need a visual, their description matches that of the Pleiadians. Because of this contact, Hitler gets the idea that his ethnic background was meant to be tall, blonde, blue-eyed and perfect. He sets into place programs to breed the German native into the super race matching this description. Among them was the drive to create a super soldier.

(On a side note, Hitler's scientists also managed to build working prototypes of antigravitational-powered saucer ships... that resembled the Pleiadian ships by... well... a lot.)

Prototype Era
early 1950's - 1960's. After Project Paperclip, in which America shipped Nazi scientists to America after Germany lost World War II, many secret projects were instilled in the American government system. Among them was the famous MKultra - a mind-altering project that tested many subjects in the quest for the perfect Manchurian candidate and super soldiers. Out of MKultra came side projects with names like Project Bluebird. Project Talent was another such project. Project Talent's mission was to scout children with exceptional abilities and talents, see them trained up, and have them shipped to participate in other related projects. 

During this time the first American "super soldiers" were scouted from military units, through Project Talent, and other means and incorporated into the budding "super soldier" system. The first super soldiers to be were put into training.

The U.S. psychic programs were also put into place and would be acted out on for many years to come.

Around this time, John Urwin was recruited into the The Sixteen, a special task force who undertook many secret mission in the Middle East.


Generation 1
late 1950's - 60's. Interestingly this overlaps the prototype era by several years. The first "super soldiers" were utilized in various important missions, including assassinations and reconnaissance in the Korean and Vietnam War. Splitting a super soldier's mind into alters in the well-known MKultra method was also introduced and experimented with.

Duncan O'Finoian claims to be a generation 1 super soldier.

Generation 2
late 1960's - early 70's: As with Generation 1, this era overlaps it's predecessor by several years.


Generation 3
Late 1970's to early 1980's Another overlap, this is also the age of the implant. Nanotechnology and cybernetics were also coming into play in regards to building that perfect soldier. (This is not as far-fetched as it sounds. In the late 1970's, Eric Drexler began to work with inventing the process that would later bring about the molecular  machine wonders we know about today.)

Apparently, the obsolete, last wave of this generation came out around 1984 or '85.

Although I was born in 1971 and had most of my "dreams" and "weirdness" in the 1980's, when puberty's heightened hormone output but me at a peak for training, I have always been proud to be "the youngest" of my team. And that I was also the last to be slipped into my team's program before they changed training and assembly tactics. I also have always been proud to be "the last" to have experienced certain training live in the flesh (like being buried in the sand) while today they merely implant such memories by hypnotic suggestion. I was proud of this before I knew there were others like me. I've just always known.

As a later generation friend and I have observed together, there is a certain soldier hierarchy in the waking military between those that have deployed, seen combat, or have not. There is also a certain hierarchy for those of us who experienced physical training vs. simulated training. Physical experiencers get better props. :-)

Generation 4
1980's to an unknown date. Super soldiers were now able to be trained for optimum use in the field. Remote viewing had been add to their perfected skill set by this time. A standard formula for "super soldier teams" was now in place with each member of the team specializing in one specific skill. (One can remote view, one can fight, etc.) Organ replacements and more cybernetics came into use, as well as the widely-spread practice of implants for tracking, hormone/mood control, memory filtering and even necessary termination.

Operation Spyglass also happened during this time.

Generation 5
Apparently we are in the Generation 5 super soldier era or beyond, where super soldiers are literally grown as clones with fake parts and probably no souls. They seem to be operated during missions by remote viewers, usually also military personnel (and thus super soldiers), like one does a video game (to use Alara Blackwell's terminology.)

The super soldier time line how I see it.

Prototype Era - 1930's to early 1950's. The Nazis started it. Project Paperclip finished it and the first "real" super soldier was America-owned.
Generation 1 - 1950's to 1970's. The process was perfected during this time so that a good many soldiers were produced that were well on their way to what we would consider a super soldier now. The psychic programs came into play heavily sometime during this and the MKultra scandal, when the program was revealed to the public and the some people sued and won against the federal government, caused many of the programs to be moved and revamped for optimum safety and secrecy.
Generation 2  - 1970's to 1990's. "Super soldiers" produced at this time were more refined, their functions better placed to their innate abilities, likes and dislikes as well as personality.  Of course some of these would have been "generation 1" projects that overlapped into generation 2 for whatever reason.
Generation Now - This goes from whenever Generation 2 faded out until now. Sure the ways to build them "better, faster than before" have changed and will always be improved upon but the basic framework has been set. Why fix what isn't broken?

I have no idea about clones, but I can tell you I've always detested the concept of putting "bad photocopies" into use in any part of our daily lives.

How do I fit in all this?

Aside from the little bit I have said here, I  just don't know. I'd welcome someone's insight. Dang it.


*Disclaimer: I'm not vouching for most of these events. I'm just trying to put the pieces together based on what little information I'm able to glean past the "lookitme" posturing.

Dream from September 15, 2001

This dream happened in Bayonne, New Jersey.

In this dream there was a young man who resembled someone I'd been close to briefly. I named him Flower, but now I think perhaps it wasn't the same person. This dream does, however, mark the start of a very important point in my life: when the Fishbowl "found me" and decided to see if I was worthy of my post with them. That was a scarey time and my memories on it are very faint.  Mostly I was only aware that I was being tried and possibly convicted - an intergalactic "This is Your Life" scenario in which if it was judged I was still guilty, still a criminal, and still not worthy I would die a very physical death.

I lived to tell this tale, however....

____

 The details are sketchy; it began with us as lovers (early teenagers), me running away, me coming back. there was space travel, and something about me having to turn a wrench in order for the ship to continue its orbit around the moon to shoot back on its trajectory. Star Trek style.

There was a scene that frightened me, and I do mean me. Me as in, I know this part wasn't just a dream, and I was looking truth in the face and I could do nothing but stand there. And this part I remember better than the rest. Flower said, "I'll tell you what the readings are really about. They're talking about upcoming events, and THEY know who you are," ominously.

And before me, I got to see the High Council (the Council on High, the Fishbowl, the Intergalactic Idiots) in their bloody ringside seats. Does anyone remember the High Council? All those high mucky mucks sitting there in their officious dark blue/black robes, and they were all staring at me ... and their eyes ... were those wide, upward-slanted large eyes attributed to elves. Super large. And they were blank white and glowing ... no iris, no pupil, just those glowing mad whites focused on me ... staring at me ... aware of me after so damn long ... and not willing to let me out of their sight.

I remember one of them had brown hair, in the traditional 50's haircut for men, and others behind him, maybe he was a leader, he was sitting there ahead of the rest. But his eyes were the same.

And I stood there and looked back, put on the spot, afraid and feeling very small.

The rest was just personal details: some guy hounding me that I could never love ... unable to tell him that I had loved someone else, etc etc ... After shooting around the moon in my ship, coming back to visit Flower, who was older, and he told me that I'd been gone for years. I screamed, "Don't TELL me that! I CAN'T have been gone during all that time!" I woke up.

I woke up thinking I had to post the dream ... and then laying down for a nap, those eyes came before me again.

Super Soldiers and the Fish that Bloop at Them

I've noticed this trend with the super soldier group that, in order to be validated as a super soldier, you have to have had some sort of military service in your verifiable history. Failing boot camp still qualifies you. I'm sure there are exceptions, but this seems to be the overall rule. Furthermore, the self-proclaimed super soldiers seem to be fighting amongst themselves. You've got the older guys who don't believe the younger guys, the younger guys who don't believe the older guys, and the women who cat fight amongst themselves. They point fingers at each other if they haven't had "enough" military service, are "pencil-necked skinny guys", are "confused" in what they remember; you name it.

They claim to have a plethora of adrenaline-rush skills, among them super speed, super fast reflexes, the ability to suffer dangerous events without getting hurt and/or killed, and psychic abilities associated with telepathy and telekinesis (usually employed for remote viewing).

I don't know about super soldiers in person aside from own experiences. (Among them being the time I traveled to Atlanta Georgia to see the Dalai Llama speak. I looked up - it's my habit to look around and observe - and saw very burly, very over-muscular men in fatigues pacing the rafter/roof area of the coliseum where we were. And there were service guys everywhere monitoring entrances back and forth, too, in suits and ties with little insignias about the size of a dime on.)But it seems to me that "super soldier" should not and probably does not refer to an over-abundance of muscle like at least one self-proclaimed super soldier is saying. And looking at the pattern of the self-proclaimed super soldiers, and my own patterns, I think super soldier isn't about looking like Superman. It's about being "super" in some way, be it with the ability to remote view or being able to "slip through molecules" to run really fast, or anything like that. Thanks to comic books and the public media, we have this vision of super heroes suddenly sprouting muscle and looking like Greek gods the minute they realize they're super. Considering all of the regular soldiers I've known in person who were mere "pencil-necked" guys that survived multiple deployments, let alone a super soldier who would supposedly go in under special circumstances, I just fail to believe that's the case.


Maybe there are grunts out there with that muscle rippling around even as I type. I just feel it's equally as possible there's a tech out there with very little muscle and a "seeing cube" (like a crystal ball but milky white) doing his soldier like duty. And there may even be an intelligence gal over on the corner writing down what the tech sees while the grunt guards the door. Who knows.

______________

But I need to stop to tell you about the Fishbowl, which for me is the final culmination of all of my experiences I am talking about here. I have met a lot of people out there who have realized when I am finished talking about it that they, too, are in touch with the Fishbowl. I had one tell me she was an ambassador. :-) So maybe this will help you as well, to give you the view from the other side of the room.

I have to with the dreams of going to a far away place in the middle of the woods and hanging with "hunters". And I'll be posting entries from my dream journal that have to do with the Fishbowl.

Now that I think about it, I realize why I thought of them that way - so maybe I'm repeating myself but I've just come to a revelation. I thought they were hunters because they all carried rifles and had bags and pouches on their clothes like a hunter would wear. But knowing what I know now... I'm sure you can see where my thoughts are leading. I can't prove any of those thoughts of course. But I was a small child, before I could even comprehend a conspiracy theory and the movies people claim to get their ideas from had even come out. And there it is. 

These dreams happened as far back as I can remember: I was 3, then 4, and I looked forward to walking down the dirt road to meet those hunters. They always greeted me in a friendly way - and although I can't remember what we did, I liked them.

And then that dream happened that I talked about here in April where I was told not to open my eyes.

So this other presence stayed with me my entire life. There are a lot of layers, so many that I think I might end up going to this blog for years to come. The pinnacle of things has been overseen and manipulated by a group of people I came to call The Council on High. Sometimes I call them "those old men" (even though there's at least one woman) or "those bastards". And I call the round coliseum place they meet in "The Fishbowl" because, when you're trapped at the bottom being reviewed or whatever, it's like you're in a fishbowl with everyone staring at you and tapping the glass.

My awareness of the Fishbowl grew slowly over the years.When I was a kid I thought it was God. Later I thought it was spirit guides. At least one preacher decided I was possessed at random and held an exorcism over me (I used a made up word instead of using a curse word to be considerate of everyone there. Should have used the curse word.). After that I didn't know who it was and stopped wondering; I just knew they were there.

They told me I couldn't marry, couldn't breed until the mate they had chosen came along, told me I would be in my 30's when things finally began to happen according to "The Plan", told me when I defied them to have children how long it would before that marriage broke apart, and even today sometimes I'll get told something that's going to happen. And overall they've been right, even with "The Plan". So on some level I know they're there as a real force.

There is an interesting story about the day I came to realize they were real people. I'll probably tell it next week, or some other time.


And I've figured out that in a very real capacity I seem to have a say in at least some of the dealings going on there.At first I did what everyone tends to do; I told myself I was the super uber important leader of the whole thing. I mean I knew I had two councils I dealt with, although I wasn't sure why I needed two separate cabinets. There was the group of 12 old guys and the group of 5 to 7 old guys (depending on who showed up). The smaller group would stand behind my chair at the tippy top of the coliseum and the group of 12 would meet with me in a separate room off to the side.

When I came across a presentation by George Kavassilas talking about the exact same political structure within the Council on High I felt very vindicated. (He, by the way, is also a nice guy.)

When I stopped to wonder how much of what was happening around me was real vs what was false, the Fishbowl was the first thing that fell in doubt. Maybe it was because the most I could get out my "Fishbowl channeler" was talk about the weather. Maybe it was also how I was placated by MUFON researchers and used by others who were in contact... and so many other things... I just had to step back and question the Fishbowl most of all. Was it real, or was it something I made up? Or was I being lied to and it was a big hologram construct?

So I announced formally the Fishbowl was being shut down until further notice. This was a few months ago. I've done it before, but this last time I was more serious than I had ever been. And last October I reopened it up again with this annual camping gather where I and those attached to it go and practice low-level psychic skills. (It almost didn't happen and I forgot to mention here that all went well, even though only 1 person and her fiance showed up.)

I wasn't sure what I was reopening... it just felt right, now that I'm using this blog to figure things out among other things, to start touching base with that again. To see what was there.

In my quest to learn more about the super soldier conundrum and to figure out where I fit in it, I came across Alara Blackwell. Of all the super soldiers out there, I found her interview to be the most believable. So my husband and I tracked her down and made contact.

She and I had a small chat on Skype and to my surprise she, also, was told not to open her eyes after a pickup. And then she started talking about doing things with her spirit guides and how, frustratingly for her, there had been no activity. She hadn't even been able to channel until last November.

It was an interesting confirmation I thanked her profusely for.

The usual

No, it's not Monday but my daughter had a bad pickup last night.

She came to me sometime around 2 or 3 in the morning. Startled me awake. "I'm scared of my room," she said to me.

She's 17 years old.

I asked her why, and she said she didn't know. So I moved over, made room in the bed (shoving my husband up against the wall) and that is where she spent the rest of the night.

She wavers between believing and not believing on what's going on. I watch her go through the things I went through - except on a more minor scale - and unlike my own parents did for me I do my best to be there for her. When she's having a believer day we'll talk about the things she remembers on her trips out - building machines mostly. It's close to what I did/do but not quite.

She approaches things better than I did, too. I'm a coward, always will be a coward. If confronted with something I'm likely to turn around and run the other way. But one night when she was staying up late to finish a project for school and weird things happened in the house while everyone else slept, she shouted at things to shut up she was trying to work. No time for nonsense, my daughter. Not even from ghosts.

So when she's creeped out by her room after waking up and tells me she felt like something was staring at her, that if she opened her eyes she'd see something she didn't want to see I'm going to take it seriously. And I do. Even through times when MUFON researchers were shown marks on her body after a pickup and they blew us off. Even when she scoffs at me about "that conspiracy shit" and doesn't want to hear it. She deserves someone to stand by her that can understand and relate. Because I used to wake up in the same way. Sometimes I still do, after a bad pickup.

Now her example is used by researchers as evidence that abductions follow bloodlines. But bloodlines are only part of the truth. I still remember the night my children were "picked", the night they were each given a gem inside their body (each a different color) and how sad I was. They weren't picked because they were mine, although I'm sure association with me made them easier targets. They were picked because they were smart. That I remember, too.

So You Could Say 3...

The werewolf story: concluded...

There is a cemetery in Schenectady that Fred had showed me and it was a gorgeous one. It dated from colonial times and the front part had been declared a preserve/park area. It was one of the great ones with big oak trees, shady areas, real flowers, and tombstones with dates you can only imagine.

The energy there was something else, too. You could actually feel how it was divided between local "covens". One area felt wiccan, one something I couldn't identify, etc. etc. I think I counted five divisions the couple of times I was there, and I didn't explore very far because the far back was what caught my attention. It was very plainly the place reserved for the more dark arts.  There was graffiti on tombstones, wax drippings on the top of a sarcophagus... but what had convinced me the folks who used the hidden area were real was a bush at the entrance of the little area.

Inside of it, wrapped up in bit of string and dangling as spellwork dictates was a bit of freckled fur that looked a lot like a wolf's fur. It was that which caught my attention, kind of like that line in The Last Unicorn movie where the unicorn says to Schmendrick, "You must never run from anything immortal. It catches their attention."

Now even then I knew sensing the energies could have been a product of my imagination. A lot of people would say that. But I dunno. I may not be very good at listening to myself when my premonitions say "go do this" or "prepare for power outage" or what have you... but I'm good at listening to my nose. And my nose said there was directed energy  there.

I was in a mischievous mood when I took Tee's boyfriend with me to show him the cemetery. Poor shy little fellow. I was only playing, but I think perhaps it was a bit on the cruel side to take this guy to a vortex of energy in the mood I was in. And this mood is like having all of your doors and windows open at once with the power turned on maximum, the stereo blaring, and signals being pumped into you by the gods themselves. You can tell everything that happened in an area - not like in the movies where they replay events as if you're watching a play. It's knowledge you take for granted, because you always knew it. You just know.


And I knew that the Group In the Back had been holding rituals, using the sarcophagus as their ritual table. And I knew they were trying to summon their god - Lucifer, perhaps, or some other deity along that line. And it wasn't that long after I'd been attacked in New Jersey for being Lucifer, myself, and the energy they sent out was a damn near match to what excites me.



So I knew that climbing on top of the sarcophagus and grabbing the energy tendrils in my hot little hands in order to send a large power burst that literally screamed "I"M HERE! YOU SENT FOR ME, RIGHT
???" would catch their attention.

Poor Tee's boyfriend was white as a sheet. I'm not sure he could swallow the fact that I had just answered a coven's summons by standing in the center of their combined power.

While standing on that sarcophagus - I hadn't even had time to get down again - I was jolted with, "WE'RE COMING!"

"They're coming!" I shouted in glee to Tee's boyfriend. I jumped down, laughing nervously or just laughing, and took him out of the back to what I considered the "Wiccan area." And we stood there - him about to crap his pants in fear and me expecting a group of teenagers or college age adults at best.  I even would have agreed to meet them and play a bit, I decided, if I felt they were okay.

Four or five vehicles appeared in ten minutes.  The first was a cop - stepping out of his personal vehicle. The second was a business man in a very nice car.  I can't remember the others, but standing there watching them as they went into the back and held a large discussion trying to figure out who was there you knew these people weren't just anybody. They were local leaders.

Only one person do I remember clearly, and that's because as she climbed back into her old car with the stink of "abandoned single parent with little money" all over her she pulled away from the group and drove by Tee's boyfriend and I from where we stood in plain sight watching in shock. She looked closely at he and I, driving by. Her eyes narrowed... and then her expression changed. We were not the demons she was looking for. She forgot us and drove away.

They all drove away after a while. Tee's boyfriend was very quiet for the rest of the day. And he was scared around me for a couple of days after that, but that was when he really started to side with me and not the rest of the household. I don't know what they'd told him, to be honest, if anything. I don't know if they talked much about me at all - well aside from the negative backstabbing things they acted on later. But that event maybe, just maybe, changed his mind about something. And his moral support I look back upon even years later and thank him quietly for: my brave friend.

Now when I find a cemetery of interest I tend to visit it a lot - usually it's to do things like tend forgotten graves or do good things. I don't like vandals. Cemeteries can be beautiful, but only if you take care of them. So of course I went back.  But within two weeks the energy in the back was gone and I searched... they'd moved their vortex. I could even feel where it was. But I didn't care to chase them. I will admit I was a little disappointed. I like making new friends. But, what are ya gonna do. Instead of chasing them I cleaned up some of their mess and made note that the werewolf spell was gone.

I wonder if it worked for the caster better than mine had done for me.


And that's the end of the werewolf spell story.

Crash and Burn

This is a post I'd put on an Otherkin board I was once a member of. I'd remembered the day very clearly - more clearly than usual. Of course these days I think there was more to the exercise than it seems and I might have found where it happened. But I'm not sure yet.

In the vision I'm not even a teenager yet - I'm at that age where you think you're 16 when you're probably under 12. Or maybe you're 12.

I'm not changing the original writing, but "Kray'ahagh" is actually "Craig" - it just seemed more alien to put it that way at the time... and at the time I was trying very hard to present my memories as something not human. Because I and the others I talked to had decided they weren't human memories. It had to make sense that way.

But his name is Craig, and Craig is someone that seems to have always done things with me. Just like there's a Paul in my subconscious. Craig and Paul.

Crash and Burn
_____________
You had a smile that lit your sleepy face, cracked your cheeks with sunshine. A voice of pure silver, you sang with your tiny instrument (enhanced by tech, made musical sounds yet to be here), violet in your vest, a young bard fresh on your own, taught me to sing...

I wept for you on that bridge as your body sunk beneath the water, your sash floating up with the bubbles, and I wore pale blue that day, velvety threads, fur around my face, it was cold, rain... a circlet of silver on my brow, searing from the cold, the tears burning my cheeks, my lashes wet and sticking together. Blood on the bridge, icicling down, rain, a vain attempt to hide the evidence.

Terror. You were my first... My first, but surely not my last, and I wept. I wept. I was afraid and you were gone.

Where is your heart? I put your heart in a book and never realized what I had done.

Again, I stand on the bridge although I remind myself I am in America, year of the millennium, and that was long ago and far away... but the memory is new, and surely I have not thought of it my entire time on this planet. And so I stand on the bridge trying to remember how it happened. Kray'ahagh helped me hide you, throw you over the rail. The child was silent and pale, my velvet was wet, I was cold, I was shivering and exhausted. I was never very good with weather magic. And you have sunk below the murky depths, the river flows serenely onward, I watch your sash flow out of sight. Kraig turns and stomps stomps away, his boots squelch in the mud. I am left alone to keep the tale. Shhh, child, its a secret...

Bangs dripping between my eyes. Cold.

So You Could Say 2...

Getting back to the werewolf story: I ignored what I'd found and continued trying to act like where I was could be a healthy environment. But by the time the Halloween party came and went, I broke completely in half.


By then Fred's roommate, who I'll call Tee, had gotten herself a boyfriend. She'd met him on the internet, coaxed him up to visit, and stopped taking her pills to get pregnant by him. She had him trapped good. He was moving in, the works. Poor guy. He was afraid of people and living in general and had to be on medicine, but you know later he'd prove to be my only friend.

At the party, well, there was your typical bullshit from Tee. By then I'd lost my job as I'd described above and hadn't eaten in a week. All of the food I'd bought was saved for my daughter alone as I hunted for jobs daily - but being a single mother and having lost my job because of a babysitter quitting black-marked me and I couldn't find anything. I was running out of ideas to look.

Tee's boyfriend had said I could have a pizza from the upstairs freezer, and Tee started a fight with me about it at the party. I was so angry I just threw energy at her. It wasn't anything harmful: that sort of tantrum gets you nowhere. But it scared everyone there. They took my power seriously, more seriously than perhaps a sane person should. I mean really. A temper tantrum ball? That's not even real energy. That's like a toddler stamping their feet and screaming. Come on.

But these people overreacted about a lot of things that have nothing to do with this tale.

I can't remember the precise moment I broke. I just remember a particular story in my head that was always a background hum suddenly stopped humming. It got very loud and the feelings that came with it were intense. This story I always knew: I drew it as comics to myself even as a small child. There was me, a princess but also a slave, and I was the fastest flyer in the military academy. There was the love of my life, but he died somehow. And that was a long time ago, and I waited for karma to bring us back together again. It was a sweet story... when I was a kid. A full grown adult in a bad environment having a nervous breakdown from being picked at mentally for three months straight after years of life not giving her a break is something else. I kind of curled up in my blankets and cried all day. I only stirred to take care of my daughter. She'd go to school and I'd curl back up again.

Tee's boyfriend was a gentle and sweet person, and he saw from the outside what was happening to me. "Don't let them do this to you," he'd say to me. He came to me more than once trying to encourage me out of it, telling me how I'd been manipulated and hurt. He even braved going out of doors to take me to the local mental health clinic to try to get some help. But no one would see me. No one would take me seriously.

This is where the werewolf spell comes in. Yeah, all of that to set the scene. LOL. And the werewolf portion isn't even that much. It's just amusing to me. But that, again, will have to wait lest my posts get too long.
___

Ive been reading Bloodlines of the Illuminati by Fritz Springmeier for over a year now. I rarely get time to read for pleasure. It doesn't help that I feel like I've read it all before. I'm only on page 88 (eBook page, could be anywhere) and right now it's talking about the different family ruling clans. "The Rest of the Li Hong Kong Clan", etc.

Right now it reads like the genealogy reports in the Bible.

Understand, this information *is* important so I'm not knocking at it. As far as I personally am concerned reading these names isn't going to do me as much good. I don't notice people like that. You have to interact with me on more than one level. But it's okay because I know at least one of my others is reading it with me, and she soaks information up like a sponge. Sometimes she does it too much and I can't remember what I've read and I have to go back and read again. She's very observant and loves to learn about everything. If I can merge with her my capacity as a human would be increased a million fold. But she would have to be one of the last to merge.

Merging: I've been concentrating on merging myself on my own for years now. I do it here and there: I don't dare go too fast. That's part of what broke me when I was in NY. I ignored the advice "don't go too fast, trying to recover yourself" even though I was the one who said it the most and... crack! So now I keep to that. Here and there I'll look inside, find someone, and "eat" them.  Sometimes I can feel a change, sometimes I don't feel anything, sometimes I'll go "oh I forgot!"  It all depends.

Mostly I'm eating the "little people" though; no one "big".

But back to Springmeier's book: I find it real interesting he's talking about Red China. In my head China is the great no-no land. I made it a point to study Chinese in college. I picked up speaking it real easily. Can't read it to save my life so I had to drop out. But I dunno. China. The great red X, the dangerous land. The land of "no justice".

And so I'll keep reading. And if I see anything else of note I'll mention it here.

Project Avalon

New Year's Eve - last night. It's Monday, the day I try to spend doing research and putting things together. I stumbled across posts by a man claiming to be a super soldier, and this led me to the Project Avalon forum. The new one. Because finding places that talk about the MILAB scenario and super soldiers is rare, I put in to join their forum. This was hours before midnight.

I also emailed Anya Briggs in the hopes she has some information we can share but I'm not counting on her for anything.

I filled out their application as best I could. When I came to "what do you think you have to offer US" I just didn't know what to say. I never know what I have to offer in situations like that, and for fuck's sake it's a damn forum. So I simply said I don't know, that I didn't like to argue etc. I just like to give and help when I see opportunities, and you never know what sort of opportunity that will be.

Today I got their return letter in regards to my application. Before noon. Some information has been changed to project whatever.

____________________

"Dear ____,

Very many thanks for your interest to join the Project Avalon Forum.

Please excuse this generic letter. We receive a large number of applications, and simply don't have the manpower to write back to each applicant individually.

As we explained when you first notified us of your interest, we're accepting very few new members at the moment. But we did welcome your application.

Based on the information you gave us (and please bear in mind that this is all we know about you), we regret that we're not in a position to create a forum account for you at this time.

We do know that it is impossible to get to know someone thoroughly via a simple application form, and if you feel we have made a mistake or have misunderstood you, please write back to us at (fuckyou@projectavalon.net), and we'll be pleased to hear from you again.

With our personal regards,

- The Project Avalon Forum Staff"

_______________________________

Well.

By now I should be used to being pushed away by the others or being blocked at any chance to communicate and find the truth. I had a feeling as I filled out their application I wouldn't be allowed in - but the truth is I've had some bad experiences with forums, even when I kept my head down.

For example, there was this guy I took to be a friend who got off his meds and turned the entire board against me. (Stalked me for a while, too.) This was a psychic forum. Yeah. I was a demon when he was done, and there were people who jumped right in and helped him with that.

Then there was this other "starseed" forum that turned on my friend because she didn't want to turn against the humans and then turned against me even though I was keeping quiet. Etc. Ad puke infinitum.

I keep to myself very closely and rarely make contact with them because people have extreme reactions to my forward and direct nature. They either decide they really like me. Or they decide I'm a threat and don't like me - which I've always found confusing. Even if I know you're a fake I'm not prone to say anything and destroy your carefully built castle.  I'm no threat to anybody unless really pushed. And even then probably  not. So why push me?

"We get a large number of applications so we gotta send you a form letter" returned only a few hours after people typically get up actually says to me, "We have this form letter because we reject a lot of people and it's tiresome saying why over and over again." 

"But we did welcome your application" as part of the rejection really says "we saw it and we did kind of look it over, but we decided you don't belong here without knowing a fucking thing about you."

Maybe it's because I put on the application that I would post intermittently - which was the truth. Maybe they felt my quiet presence would be a problem. Nevermind that when I did have something thoughtful to say I would definitely have said it, would have strived to contribute deeply and fruitfully, and would have avoided flamewars like the plague.

Maybe it's because they asked if I was part of other forums and what was my screen name. I don't know if I'm part of those other forums anymore or not. I have tried to return to the one or two places on occasion but they've also purged their records and I don't like them enough to make new accounts. And I don't want another screen name. I like the one I use.

I dunno. Either way, it's your typical "fuck off" day in MILAB land with me doing the research and everything alone. Well, I roped my husband into helping me a bit this morning but he'd rather be playing video games. LOL.

Hey! total d'eja vous! I dreamed this! Now that's a positive note. I guess I was trying to warn myself or something. =^-^= 

Happy New Year.