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Monday, January 21, 2013

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.

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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.