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Wednesday, November 5, 2014

David Icke, Revelations of a Mother Goddess (full version)

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

Illuminati Exposed

He even touches on Star Trek's Spock.

Wednesday, September 10, 2014

White Commentaries

  Iv'e had to back off on some of the things I'm researching because they hit too close to home and this put me at risk of breaking one of my own "Remembering Rules". So I'm currently concentrating on putting what I can remember out as fast as I can so that I can move forward. I talk about remote viewing and what I call the intergalactic bus station, which is a travel plaza attached to the space station and/or mothership I was going to frequently a few years ago. This allowed me to remember a bit about the war environment up there so I was able to touch on that as well. Made enjoyable with bad pictures and everything. It would have been nice to include a story or something from someone else, but I may have a nifty segment I can include once I get the next one I have to do done...

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

MILAB vlog "The White Commentaries" July 18 2014



 My old Jaded From Jacksonville vlog rebooted. This time I rant about the personal hurt from listening to interviews with two researchers I had reached out to and grown fond of, and how they dismissed people like me as not worth helping more or less. I also make a comment about chick flicks, maybe mention some of my memories that no one cares about, and comment sarcastically on all of those people who channel the Council on High.

This vlog is put out knowing that a lot of researchers are up front about how they're not counselors and can't "help" you in that way. I'm more addressing all those out there who claim to want to "help" when really they just want something for themselves, or their own worldview is too narrow to be anything but harm.

Monday, August 18, 2014

white commentaries

  For the first time in my life, I was awake for the first few minutes of an alien abduction. That or it failed and I was simply able to remember more than usual. Talk about one helluva experience. I also put show some info from a remote view session to the Jupiter area and the Fishbowl. Shout out to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=COQBaJgzATo It's a good video take a looksee.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

List of Banks Owned by Rothschild

Interesting web find: it's a list of banks that are owned by what many would consider the Illuminati. It's very hard to bank somewhere NOT owned by them, but knowing the bases can help it. http://bloginfo.educate-yourself.eu/2013/03/list-of-banks-owned-by-the-rothschild-family/ Of course one of the better ways to get around this growing problem is to stop depending on credit so much and go back to cash to a degree if not completely.

New Age Bullshit

Sunday, July 27, 2014

Created because I found out something....

I saw the orange light.

About a week and a half ago I was walking my dog.

 I don't sleep at night, for all I keep trying. So I've this habit of walking my dog somewhere between 3 am and 6 am on occasion. It really depends on how much I have to do - just because I'm not sleeping at night doesn't mean I'm wasting my time tossing and turning or watching TV. My broken sleeping mechanism is one of the reasons why I'm self-employed, so basically I work graveyard.

 This time when I left I was pretty sure I left at 5 in the morning. I remember expecting the sun to rise at any minute, or perhaps I was under the impression it was already rising. The thing here is I can't really remember my mood when I left the house, that some vague idea of my feelings on the matter.

 I decided to only walk around the neighborhood, so around and around I went. It was still dark out, so at one point I happened to stop and look up to the stars. That's when I saw it: the orange bright object coming down at a direct vertical angle from the sky. It wasn't directly over me. It looked like it might have been over the neighboring town, which is about 15 minutes from my house.

 I remember a sense of panic when I saw it, because I knew it wasn't an airplane and there I was outside and completely vulnerable. But the panic was iced over with a plastic calm, as if I wasn't supposed to feel that panic. But it was there.

I watched the light descend for about thirty seconds and started walking back to the house. I rounded a corner and looked at the sky again. The light was gone.

 When I got home, I was very disorientated about what time it was and this annoyed me. The clocks read 3:30 or so, and I felt like they should have read after 5. It was still dark and I couldn't get it out of my head that this was wrong. It should have been light outside.

 Two days later - probably last Saturday (a week ago) or so - I woke up very very dehydrated with severe vertigo. I had to go to the hospital. Two days after that I noticed the yellowing bruises all over my body. They were fingertip shapes, but way too small to be from my hands.

 I told my husband. But beyond that, who am I going to tell?

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Notes.

My father, very briefly, was involved with the early Psychic Corps. I know I've said so before, but I can't recall to whom. He hasn't told me much. I imagine there isn't much to tell, and his story changes. One minute he only participated in the beginning to get his super powers tested. The next he was with them for years as something like a freelance informant and even got a check once in a while. Mind you my father is really good at "Indian bullshit". The story of being involved hasn't changed, but the circumstances around it have as you can see. I got the book Psychic Spies by Jim Marrs; I wanted to see if Dad were mentioned. He wasn't; the names of the earlier testers aren't there at all.

I wanted to see for myself so I remote viewed to the past. I was in a room with a round metal door, it was dark and bare with only bricks. A woman was coming down the hall outside giving a tour. She and a younger version of my father passed by outside. I can't remember what she said the room was for. Then she closed the door. It closed with a metallic bong and shook me from the view. Couldn't get it back either. When I told my father of the room he didn't let me finish. He got very excited and said, "Yeah, that room!" and finished describing it to me.

So my husband was deployed to Afghanistan and I was stuck behind and handed to this little prick. I hated him, and he radiated hatred for me. And for the next year I was kept on edge and pissed. If it wasn't the first sergeant refusing to allow the people in my husband's very small unit use phones to call home while everyone else got to or not allowing them guns so they could protect themselves (the FOB was nearly run over shortly after my husband moved on to where he was going), it was First Sergeant using the military wife group to pick on me. That man seriously has a hard-on against happily married couples. Anyway, yeah. This kept me angry, which is when I do things best.

And then the prick handler would come, get me, and do things to agitate me. The drawback to activating me like that is that I also gain better memory recall.

When my husband first deployed, I went to "work" and was in one of the underground bases. I was not guarded (for once - that came after I got moved from that unit) and there was a general standing nearby speaking to some people. So I walked right up to him and told him, "You send me to Afghanistan, too."  He said, "No." And the argument between us began. There were no sirs or ma'am, no saluting, nothing to indicate he saw me as inferior or superior. And our argument, although not heated, tells me that "me" isn't afraid to throw her weight around. Finally we had to just split and agree to disagree, so I walked away seething. I was SO ANGRY when I woke up the next day, because I remembered clearly that I'd been told by some dude that I had to settle for being left behind.

Then the McChrystal (sp?) matter happens maybe a week or two after that argument. At the time I was pretty sure I didn't know anybody high ranking from a hill of beans, but when I first saw McChrystal's photo in the news, I had to point and say "OMG that's HIM!"

Things got worse after that. I was having visions left and right, probably spawned from not wanting to be left behind. Who can say... but astrally I was over there nearly all of the time. I burned myself out within 6 months; ran out of resources and couldn't do much anymore. My husband called me every day as much as he could, and the picking upon we endured cracked down. I got to the point I was having waking visions, and every day I'd tell my husband "they're going to attack at this hour. They're going to come from such and such side. This is the location of the cave they're living in." And it would happen. I also pinpointed where Bin Laden was and reported it to him (knowing our conversations were being monitored and all); it wasn't hard. My husband's FOB was on the edge of the border so it was only a short distance hop in the scheme of things.

The worse things got the more I was angry, so I promised myself that every night (I was going to "work" nearly every day) I'd start pushing to get the cave system daisy chain bombed and flatted. They did it within a week of me demanding it. Nice coincidence. It only helped a little. It was fun listening to Tim tell me about the smears of blood from the enemy that were still outside. And I know, I'm supposed to be all nice and go "all that life wasted"! But, you know, they were trying to kill my husband.

At one point I had a vision of something that was going to happen. I knew they'd been planning a certain of maneuver - when you're all eyes and data collection while covering an entire war zone it's kind of hard to miss - and what I saw woke me up in tears. A bunch of guys were going to die. I had to warn someone, anyone, and put a stop to it. I couldn't just call Fort Campbell, it had to be someone who touched on it. My friends helped me find the old director to the Stargate program - I can't remember his name - and of all the people I tried to contact he's the only one that called me back. At first he told me he had no contacts left and there wasn't anything he could do. Then I told him my vision. And suddenly he had someone he could tell. Then he asked "Who's your father?" when I made a small mention of the psychic programs. I told him, "George Joyner." He cried, George JOYN-! I mean, is that your maiden name?" So yeah. My father isn't completely lying.

What I can't figure out is when I told him the scenario had been narrated in the dream, Stargate Guy didn't like it. And I'm just not sure why.

I like to think me turning on the waterworks made a difference. Shortly after that the plan went down. My husband was on his way home and happened to be where he could talk to the survivors. So he'd be all nice, get the info, and come to me. The ambush hadn't been completely thwarted: not 100% died. But it was still a disaster.

One of the last things I did for the "war effort" that I can remember is I was taken to an airport. The jerk handler was there, provoking me. By that point though I'd watched him all year and figured out he wasn't my husband as he kept claiming to be. So I'm standing there listening to him tell me that he's going to back to war and die and not being as provoked as he wanted me to be. And then my target walked past.

It was like I lost touch with the entire world EXCEPT for this man's robes. He went past the boarded gates and as soon as he was out of sight, I turned to my handlers and told them I knew where he was going. They showed me a map that was on a wall and I pointed out the man's travel path while being slightly confused. The map wasn't of Africa. It was of the Middle East area (I think), yet I drew a path with my finger and told them he was on his way to a remote village in Africa.

And I'm pretty hopeful I got the prick handler fired There was a training exercise; one of those test. He was being a prick to me as usual. He threatened my family. Which... only makes me want to get rid of you more you know. So when another handler, whom I recognized, walked up in civies I turned back on Prick and told the other how badly I was being treated. I explained his little guy had no business in his position and then outlined every little thing showing how he can't handle people. I never saw Prick again.

And this is why I didn't want to tell you. I'm pretty sure my involvement, as a MILAB or as a volunteer, would remain super top secret confidential for at least a lifetime more. I'm not just any MILAB. I'm an asshole MILAB. All of us have it in ourselves, you know, so I can't say I'm THE MILAB. That's just silly. But.  They were picking on us so hard when my husband was finally coming home, that I finally lost my temper and threatened anyone who was eavesdropping that if things didn't stop I was going to break up any of their planes I find in the air. I was going to find my handlers and my handlers' handlers and I was going to stop them all.

Within 24 hours the bs stopped.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Hyperspace 04-29-2014 James Bartley



 http://youtu.be/QWs4Ph-vDPQ is the address if it doesn't work.

 James Bartley has been doing some serious and in depth work about the reptilian problem as well as the MILAB situation for years. He's genuinely passionate about what he does and his stuff is pretty deep. If you haven't read any of his works now is a good time to start.

Monday, July 14, 2014

Another Pointless Contact


To Veritas Radio:

I saw a clip with an interview by you and came here looking for more. Then I saw a short interview you did with Niara Isley.

And I just wanted to say: all these folks get help after reaching out. They get listened to, they get people taking them seriously, and they get somewhere. Everything I've uncovered I've had to do 100% by myself.

I reached out to Leslie once.  She didn't take my reaching kindly. I've reached out to EVERYONE.  Meanwhile I woke up in the middle of an abduction experience - flat woke up, more than once. I've told my handlers to pay me for my time. I've told one handler the other was a terrible handler. I've been tazed, pushed around, and most recently called a diamond and told it was time for me to retire.

I have a lifetime of memories I'm still trying to sort through that I can't make sense of. I could write a book if I had time, but I'm so busy trying to pay Obama's new taxes I just don't have the time. And then I see interviews like this with people talking about how no one remembers without hypnotherapy. And it drives me crazy.

If I'd just been talked to that day perhaps their story would be more complete. Maybe more folks like me that break out of the programming repeatedly would feel safe coming forward. But we don't, because we might get yelled at over the phone by the very people we reach out to.

And it just... sucks.

'Nuff said.

Thursday, May 29, 2014

Super Soldier Summit - missed it again.


It apparently happened the weekend I was losing my home and making an enforced move to Louisiana. At the time I'd been filled with this overwhelming feeling that it was time to go. My husband is leaving the military and we were moving anyway. Our light bill had went through the roof - over $400 a month - and we simply couldn't afford anything anymore least of all it. But still.

I'm very depressed that I missed it again. I know that all that would happen is I'd go and maybe attend some talks. I'd be bored and be isolated in a crowd of strangers. One of the coordinators is a angry woman who yelled at me over the phone once, tried to change her story about meeting a reptilian because she didn't want to be looked at like she was crazy, and insists on changing terms her mentor established in a claim for fame. I dislike her and find her shallow and selfish. But I still want to go. I don't know why. This whole drive to find others like me is pointless and a waste of time. I'll never find others like me.

I talk to my husband on the phone when something happens to confirm my situation, like the other day when I went to "work" for the first time since moving and the dog was on edge all day the next day. And then yesterday - I forget what it was - but something happened to confirm it. Or that my cat is very angry sensitive to tones of any kind and when the phone wires got crossed with our alarm to make it ring when the phone rings, she runs to the garage door with her ears laid back ready to beat up whomever is about to enter. And so many other circumstantial things. But. I dunno. It would be nice to go even if it most likely would be a complete waste of time and money.

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

The Black Hole of Guyana

http://www.ratical.org/ratville/JFK/JohnJudge/Jonestown.html by John Judge 1985 Even though it's from 1985 it's a very good run down of the events at the Jonestown Massacre as well as certain political connections.

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

PROJECT CAMELOT: INTERVIEW WITH MELINDA LESLIE - SUPER SOLDIER SUMMIT



When I first heard about Leslie, I and my roommate went through hell and finally found her research phone number. She claimed to research MILABS like us, right? And we'd just finished watching a Youtube video where she talked openly about being confronted by a reptilian and being threatened into silence. So we felt she would be open-minded enough for us and would actually listen where no one else had given two shits before.

She reacted very badly in our direction, she didn't even let us finish telling her anything. She wanted to take the video down lest she be considered insane. She accused us of not being real, demanded to know if I'd even bothered to get regressed to find out for sure. When I tried to tell her that yes I'd tried and the experience had turned out very badly, that the therapist had brought out "the Babbler" and it was just a nightmare she sat for a moment in silence... and then went right back to her tirade at us.

And she got stuck very hard on her own word for MILABs; insisted we not use the term MILAB anymore. As if it was somehow going to help matters.

So here she is in this interview talking about how she'd worked with oh so many people, and she's "learned" to listen and take new evidence, and maybe four years plus later she has learned her lesson. But I on the other hand have been badly burned and couldn't trust her research or her, for that matter. How do I know she's learned?

I mean, she was all about telling someone about her reptilian experience to be on a show only to waffle in private. And yelled when the real thing turned to her looking desperately for some clue, something. That speaks volumes to me.

Perhaps her research is good. Maybe we just caught her on a bad day or she resented being called like that. (It's not like we could find an email address.) I encourage you guys to look into her and decide for yourselves. I keep in mind that people are told to stay away from me, that I am isolated by the program very much on purpose. That affects things in ways it probably won't for you.

One thing I note is she talks about how spirituality is now being brought into the research. I don't feel that meditations are bad, mind you, and can be used for research. But I object to it being brought in to the degree it is. It's becoming about documenting evidence and doing research and more about becoming a religion based on what you wish you were and what you think you imagined when that reading may or may not have been real. No one is double checking their facts anymore, and the posturing has gotten much worse as a result. The balance is broken, and that is bad. Period.

I remember what Karla Turner said, "They do NOT behave as angels." We've forgotten the message she lost her life over and we talk about angel guides and psychic boxes... but they do NOT behave as angels. Yes, learn your psychic powers. No, don't put yourself in a place where you can believe any lie you are told.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

IUFO Congress 2011 - Jim Marrs - Remote Viewing Aliens and UFO's

Hang in there until the end. A ghost of one of the Roswell aliens perhaps?

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Project Camelot Interviews Jim Marrs



 At one point he says that Egypt's pyramids not being built by slaves is something the "Man" doesn't want us to know. That we're told the Hebrews did it over and over again because this supports the conspiracy.

 Well, I've heard in various different places that the Pyramids were not built by slaves over and over again since I was a child. I've heard the debates, the people trying to justify the Bible story versus the evidence that says folks had jobs doing various aspects and - yes - got paid for their work. (Not slaves.) The only people I've ever had continuously perpetuate the tale were preachers, and even then I've not heard such a sermon in a long long while... Here's one article of many on how the pyramids were not built by slaves. 

http://news.discovery.com/history/ancient-egypt/pyramids-tombs-giza-egypt.htm

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

MK-Ultra Mind Control Victim - Cathy O'Brien Full Testimony



Transformation of America

Apparently this book about the MKultra situation as told by Cathy O'Brien is now open source. Here is one place to get it from:

http://static.everdot.org/ebooks/english/Cathy_OBrien__Mark_Philips_-_Trance_Formation_of_America_MKULTRA_-_1995.pdf

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Again, with the Disclosure

I'm noting that folks here in the USA think that nondisclosure in regards to UFOs and "alien" entities is a global conspiracy.

So for your mind-opening educational pleasure, here is a list of countries that have participated in disclosure so far.

1. Argentina
2. Australia
3. Brazil
4. Canada
5. Chile
6. China
7. Denmark
8. Finland
9. France
10. Germany
11. India
12. Ireland
13. Japan
14. Mexico
15. New Zealand (Additional Report)
16. Peru
17. Russia
18. Spain
19. Sweden
20. Ukraine (not in English)
21. United Nations
22. United Kingdom
23. Uruguay
24. Vatican City

Thursday, March 27, 2014

A couple of my memory recover techniques...

In a discussion at the Above Top Secret forum, I was reminded of my two favorite ways to recover memories from "the other side of life". I thought it would help others if I shared. I've always liked a technique that I refer to as bouncing for memory recall. It's based on the fact that although experiences such as, oh, going to the store are personal for an altar, data collected is not and goes into this collective knowledge pool that all can access. Thus my first few months at Fort Polk I knew the way to a certain building in the ops 4 training area that I had never been to before, even better than my husband who was there frequently. I knew the side road he doubted. So when you're talking to someone else and are put in situations where you need to access that information - like that day driving down the back road - you can. It just comes to you. And it's a pretty reliable method so far, I've found, better than anything I've ever done. The problem is finding people to do it with you, because you need some sort of equal interaction. Although me just driving randomly in the back roads might have triggered the information, it's hard to tell. You may miss it. You may never access it because you're not defending your stance, connecting with another human, etc. You need someone to be a sounding board, someone to "bounce" the knowledge off of. Hence, bouncing... I've been doing bouncing since I was a young adult, something like over 20 years ago or so. =^-^= I see my method starting to get used a little here and there. But even with that you have to be careful. You can't sit and be talking about a mutual mission, for example, and expect the information coming out not to be fake memories or traps. And the people who are trying the technique now leave so many aspects out. I wince when I watch them. It almost hurts. Self hypnosis has also been recommended. A simple self hypnosis technique I sometimes do is to drive my car long distances alone. I used to work in a job that had me driving a lot so it was easy. I managed to recover a self-containing nuclear power plan out of my head that way once. I thought it was thermal power until I looked it up. Interesting confirmation, that sort of technical thing. Couldn't fake THAT.

Sunday, March 23, 2014

David Icke, Reptilians and the Jews

The part I found the most amusing was watching other conspiracy theorists put David Icke down, using terms like "meat and potatoes" when referring to anything but Icke's material. And now, today? That same man recants his words and considers Icke's stuff to be the meat and potatoes. Amazing.

Friday, March 21, 2014

Reversing the other two parts of my story...

I didn't get anything out of my speech reversals concerning the other two parts of my story with the village. It's interesting to note, however, that in a forum I'm in Peggy Kane herself redid some of my reversals for me and found things I didn't. They were things that made sense on how I feel, though, and didn't really bear reminding. Reverse: tied the final, live (or possibly leave). Reverse: so go up and he yells, small (this is where I'm describing the plane) Reverse: hell put this type (we (Peggy) interpret this to mean that this is a symbol of threat and fear.) Reverse: so I long with the lessons, help. (All of us on this forum are working to understand the lessons of this reality) The reversals are "your fear, live, earned it". Everyone who has been involved in this reality has had fear. You've lived and thus earned that fear. "Consider it" So you are asking yourself to consider that fear. Interesting stuff, and I thank Peggy for what she did unasked. Something to play with more in the future.

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

Some interesting clips about time travelers possibly caught in the act, talking on cell phones.

But you have to question:

1. Who were they talking to.
2. How did they get signal, or were the devices working like intergalactic walkie talkies.
3. Or were they talking on small hand held radios?

OR... given that the Nazis had developed a lot of interesting technology by the time these film were made it might be that cell phones already existed by then. The common people do not get to see technological innovations sometimes for a full generation after they were made. The cell phone came out to the public in the 80's I think? Not so recent.




Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Memories vs. Coincidence: part 3

Her first mission - in essence MY first mission - happened in a jungle. For years I thought maybe it was Vietnam, because the Vietnam war was really hot and deadly at about that time period. So I've spent a good amount of time looking for MKultra conspiracy theories involving the U.S. using children in that jungle. I've looked at jungle images, read excerpts, listened to soldier stories. And although some of the things were a close match, they never were a fitting match.

Her story: She arrived at the camp. It was a village type camp deep in the jungle. There buildings were close together and the jungle was a wall around the place. The road she walked on was wide and very dirty being made of dirt. She walked in by herself, but didn't go far. I'm not sure if it was her first time, second or third. I don't think it was her first because she was familiar with the terrain, although now that I think about it... having been her co-consciously once as a drunk accident, she has these tendrils that just... go everywhere. And she knows *everything* around her. She's very vastly aware. So who can say.

 The buildings were raw wood, unpainted. There were support poles that were round, sort of like cleaned trees, and rough looking roofs. To her left was a row of low buildings, almost like a long house, and at the end she knew was the cages. This is where run away people were kept. They were metal with thick bars and low to the ground. Maybe they were meant for large dogs.

This is problem one I have always had with the Vietnam scenario: from what I've found Vietnam kept people in bamboo cages. Not these filthy yet factory made monstrosities.

 If she walked ahead the road would curve (or maybe it split) to the right and down a few buildings would be the entertainment area. It was an open walled long house type structure. I'm not sure what those things are called. They're not quite gazebos or pagodas because they're square, and they're square because that's easy for people to build. There were a few tables under the thatched roof, and you could watch movies on a little screen. She'd never been entertained there, but she knew what it was for. I think there had been something going on there once when she'd come to the place, and she'd taken note of the activity.

 She knew that the immediate building to her right upon of the place had a radio in it, something that also acted like a sort of CB or something. It was a very valued piece of equipment by the camp leader, "Black", that no one was allowed to touch.

 When she arrived in front of that building, she was immediately met by Black who ushered her inside and angrily ordered her to curl up in a corner away from the radio and wait like a dog. So she did.

 He was an angry angry man who towered over her. His anger was directed at her, but he wasn't angry with her I don't think. She was there to help with a problem, and before long she was sent out of the village to do what she had to do. To find the hiding tribes. She was told they were her people, and she was there to basically help exterminate her own people. So. There were people that were hiding from the camp, and she had to find them.

She sensed her way through the jungle and came upon them. They had made themselves homes in clearings behind walls of bamboo and plants pushed together to act as camouflage. She pushed past the camouflage, and because she was a child no one thought twice about her presence. They carried on with their lives and she played in the dirt a while. A woman gave her something to eat. Then, once she had seen all she needed to see, she want back to "Black" and reported the location.

 Immediately, units would move out and attack the hidden villages. The people would be rounded up with no ceremony, carried back to the village, and locked in the cages. They were sentenced to die, and she knew this was so. The people would sit listless in their cages, full of despair. And she would stand nearby trying to fathom the fact of their emotion. Not just their emotion, but more the fact that they were feeling. She did not feel anything.

 She did this two, three times. Maybe less, maybe more? Always it was the same scenario. Always the same result. This is problem two I have always had with matching it to Vietnam: the villages she was locating to be rounded up had women, children, and a few men. It had no soldiers. They never whipped out guns and fought back. They never strapped bombs to the backs of their children. They always ran, terrified, and didn't get far because they were surrounded. (She knows because she was always brought along to watch the consequence of her action.) They weren't military units to be rounded up, and she wasn't helping the Vietcong put people in cages. So... not a fitting match. At all.

 The final memory of this first mission is standing on the outside of a big village - one with small houses as opposed to places cleared away in the brush hidden away in palm leaves like before. There's a lot of screaming. There's a large cloud of smoke or something. And there's a lone plane above the village dealing out the death. It's a black plane that flashes in the sun with a long nose. It has twin engines. I can't remember more about it than that.

 She had been inside the village when the attack began, but she'd run for her life and stood far away watching it happen. Out of reach, safe, and with nowhere to go really. This was different than before, because she always reported the attack location before something happened. This time she had still been inside. And the memories of the mission end there.

I've always wondered what happened to Black. So my husband and I have the audio book for American Conspiracies by Jesse Ventura. It's a very good book, and I enjoy listening to it when we're on a trip that's going to last at least an hour if not two. We got to the chapter about the Jonestown Massacre. Now I don't know about you, but I haven't heard much about that growing up for all it happened when I was a kid. "Don't drink the koolaid" is as far as my information went, and inside my mind I had mixed it up with the Waco tragedy and thought it had happened in Texas somewhere.

So when the book said this had happened in Guyana, South America my mind kind of did one of those record scratches. You know, the sound when the needles is ripped off the record and you have to stop everything in order to process. I turned the book off.

 My father spent some time in "French Guyana" shrimp fishing. He talks about it sometimes. He'd gotten married to a local headhunter and was actually doing quite well for himself. He had money, he had a wife, and he was respected with the tribe he'd become friends with. And then JFK was assassinated and he was deported back to America. Bye bye wife. Bye bye financial success.

 I waited until I got home, after I spent some time rethinking these memories, and dared to look at pictures of the Jonestown Massacre. The erratic leader, The Reverend Jim Jones, looks like Black. The village looks like the village. They had an open air meeting/entertainment area. Rumors are 700 people were hiding in the jungle when the massacre began.

And you know, I'd ignore all of that and cry coincidence if it weren't for the fact that Jim Jones had a radio device, a PA system, that he treasured very highly. He'd use it to talk to the village all night long. It was his baby. If it weren't for the radio... However, like I said at the beginning of this little three post series, until I get to actually hold a service record I can't say one way or the other.

It feels disrespectful to do like so many MKultra people do and go around touting "I was at this horrible event and I did these things!" besides. There were 11 survivors from Jonestown, and I look at pictures and look and look. I'm not in any of them. So I won't say that Jonestown is the event of her first mission. And to be honest if I did get to see my service record, if it exists, I'd probably not say anything in public. So rather, I will make note of this strange and scary coincidence.

There was this event that I've been remembering for years. And just last week I was made aware of an event that hit the news that happened during the same time frame. And the weird thing about these two events is they are a very, very close match. But out of respect to the Jonestown survivors... I can't say I was there. Because I don't know if I was, and logically it may not be true. I could have been told the story during an abduction or picked it up psychically from a twin. After all, if I went to Jonestown why didn't my parents notice I was gone?

 Logic. You have to hold your logic carefully when picking through things like this. I will be researching about Jonestown from here, though, and posting some of what I find. Because if I didn't know the story, then other people don't know the story. And we all should know the story. When you see things, ask yourself: who held all those crossbows? I've yet to see anyone make note of that so far.

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Memories vs. Coincidence part2

See I need to make sure this is written out before I continue with my research because of something I found the other day. I wasn't expecting these particular memories to *ever* come to light like this. But they have. It's not a bad thing or a good thing, because until the day I get to hold a service record with my name(s) on it I can't say it's anything more than a fairy tale. A very much ignored and unknown fairy tale.

 So I start with environment, which isn't easy. I connect that to the early circumstance. When I was a child, on the "waking side" of life, I related very strongly to the parts in my history books that covered Mesa Verde because the people lived in carved rock. That was how the "messenger school" was to me, except things were shaped very differently in my mind. There were arches, except I didn't know they were called arches being a little kid, and structured class periods. It felt odd you had to climb a ladder to get to the homes. But mostly, as a kid, what I centered on was how I was treated at this school - as little kids will do.

 Day after day I told myself the same thing after waking up. I drew pictures of it in the dirt road with a stick and on the sides of paper bags. My mother was pregnant with my little brother at the time, and although I looked forward to being a big sister there was this event going on that haunted my mind quite strongly. I spent hours after school telling myself this story over and over again.

 She was the fastest (flapping flight) flyer in the entire school. Her wings were that of a swift, even - but only because hummingbirds were not shaped right for the human body somehow. But they were colored like a bald eagle's, and that was a mark of rank and intent.

 And the other messengers didn't like her because she was so fast. There would be races, and she always won. Again and again. This made her time in the school difficult, and she was quite lonely. So she spent a lot of time by herself - except when there were races - day after day after day.

She was a master at "skipping" which is a technique you use while running. You "skip" yourself ahead through space and time. I even would run up and down the road in front of my house, trying to skip. And fly... because I believed the secret to THAT was a type of telekinesis. I even thought I managed to lift off the ground for more than a minute once, and told myself often "I skipped!"

But I was alone doing this always, so who knows.

 It was like this for a full year. At the time I wasn't made fun of in school as hard as I was after I told myself this story - almost as if the abuse needed to transfer down or I had a psychic premonition. Ironic, kind of. 

When I sat down to write my story as a series of sci-fi tales, I took it upon myself to do a quick bit of research on Mesa Verde. And I found... Cappadocia: the barracks. And Petra, Jordan - the city.

 The thing about Petra is that it's very scary a near perfect match to my memories of that flight school. With Cappadocia it's hard to say, because history can repeat itself. But some photos I've found can make you blink. A lot. But what are you gonna do... so I filed this information away, wrote my stories, and carried forward.

History can repeat itself, as I said, and I could have gotten the idea from a book or a TV broadcast. It wasn't enough to go by, really.

 There was a man, someone I didn't come to think about until I was grown. Oh, sure, names surfaced for me as a repeat pattern: Windham - a last name I know now but I used it as a first name, Paul, and Dr. Black. My handler, an old man, was just someone that was there and later I'd realize felt like a grandfather or other type of family member for me. He never got a name.

 Now Dr. Black is the subject of this particular memory sequence. I think back and I wonder if there were two that I thought of as "Black". Or were they the same person? The first was a teacher at the messenger school. He was a harsh man who drove her to go. She never felt tired when he made her do things. He was responsible for her learning to handle her powers. He yelled at her a lot. He was tall (all adults are tall though) with black hair he kept slicked back, and he was a little on the thin side. Mostly she centered on his hair, because she could relate to it being as this was the hair color of her family.

 Through the training, she came up for her first "real" mission. Another something I didn't remember until much later, and it's something I've always wondered "did I make this up"? And if so, how could some things be so close a match to information that wasn't released to the public until years after it had happened? Stuff I never cared to look at in detail until just last week?

 This mission was headed by the possibly second "Black", in the jungle.

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Reverse Speech and my story

I stumbled upon reverse speech last night due to an interview with Peggy Kane. Apparently when we talk, we subconsciously speak messages to ourselves that can be heard when playing things backwards. I've read a few things by other people that confirms that they, at least, believe it. Apparently the information coming out backwards is consistent from person to person. No one contradicts the other. This was a bit of a scandal in the 80's I recall with demonic messages in albums and other bs.

Thing is, Peggy Kane had a bit of a scandal because of it. The reverse speech messages began to indicate that the reptilians were going to jump ship, as it were, and leave the place blazing in their wake. It didn't happen and she was discredited. But I think about it, and how she found out her spirit guides and other things were lying to her by using this medium and I wonder... what if they figured out she was doing this and used reverse speech to lie to her? It can happen.

 Either way I thought I'd give it a go on my own. Without knowing the science whatsoever. LOL.

 I have Audacity, which is a free software for recording so I can play with making music from time to time. I loaded it up and recorded myself just talking at random. The message inside was "Lousiana's". I happen to be in Louisiana right now.

So I recorded myself reading the story from the previous post. I didn't stick completely with the script because, by talking, I was able to add some details and wotnot. Then I reversed the audio and slowed it down some.

What I got was:

 "really..." during the part that reads: "So I went to Heaven after I had been nearly created. And I served The Lord. Who was at the bad end of a coup. And watched as everyone was put to death, one by one, until I feared for my life enough to run. Because of everyone there, I had managed to retain individual thought. Which, I might add, my first handler prized in me. I'm not sure why."

 "Hell no" during the part that reads: "Why *would* anyone believe a Butterfly who remembers these things, when we've been told to see things not as they really are?"

Kinda weird. There were other parts that almost sounded like words but I wasn't sure. And I'm not sure what it means, if I really believe this story or I was being skeptical at myself with... oh really now... or what. So the story remains a suspect tale in my head, possibly fiction, and I will continue with part two next week. If I remember to I'll also reverse speech it, see what it says.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

Memories vs. Coincidence - my first mission

I have this hazy memory. It's one of those that I've always associated with "past life" material, and even though I never thought it was connected to another "past life" material pocket in my mind I have to wonder. In fact it's one of the many things in my head I poke at, wondering if I made it up. It's important to make sure you haven't made anything up.

The time line is that Kausha - the original me, the perfect hybrid created artificially in a Blue Valley on a planet many light years from now on the other side of a black hole - was lonely. Her planet had been hazed and almost everyone had been rounded up for slavery by the attackers. This was when the united peace that was a universal wide empire fell. She had lived at the capital.

So she lived there on this abandoned, lost world with only a few things to keep her company. The loneliness drove her mad, so she put herself into a deep sleep and sent her soul forth to find company. While floating in the upper realms, there was a giant creature that many would call God. It took notice of her and swallowed her in order to make it part of it's own kingdom.

Not to die, but to be remade into one of it's many clones. But she valued her individuality very much. She knew she was unique, for all there had been five of her at her cloning... she was the only survivor. So she begged for the being to please not take that away from her. He took pity on her tears and let her keep her identity, but he had to change her a little bit... so he changed her just enough so that she could survive in his "Heaven."

She mostly ran errands in Heaven. There was a team of five others she was attached to. They were a lot older than her and more viewed her as an annoying little sister. "The Team of Light" they were called; Lightbringers. Or at least, that's the best way I can describe the pictures in my head.

There was one being who did not like the way things were being run, so a rebellion was planned. She learned of this rebellion and went to the Being and asked him if it was okay if she joined the other side. He said yes.

Why she asked, or why it was brought up I can't say. Maybe she was spying. Maybe she was just so obedient she had to ask for permission to do such a thing. Either way, there was a battle. It was short, and she was on the sidelines for most of it. And it was over. Tables were turned and the "red one" had managed to gain the upper hand.

So he lined up everyone who had ever followed him. Her team as well. She stood on the far end - to the right of the line - and watched as each person was approached. "I order you to die." And they obediently did, one by one.

So she ran. She ran and ran and ran. She leaped from Heaven, back into the aether, flying with the wings the Being had given her. She ran until she came to Earth and hid in a body that was not her own.

But most things are metaphor when describing how things happened, keeping in mind that much of what happens to a Butterfly is done under a hypnotic state. We interpret things with visual references, and we even replace real things with dreams. One exercise I distinctly remember from only about five years ago had me on an island serving a dictator. I knew I was on an island, and I was to enact certain behavior around the handler who was being the dictator. But while this was happening, I was also aware that items in the hallway I was to take to be equipment were really cardboard boxes with peanuts.

There was a young blond girl who was in the exercise with me. I remember her because - as happens often when subjects are too young in these exercises - she passed out mid-action. Well, having been a parent my instincts to protect were strong so I followed the doctors when they picked up her limp body and carried her into the hall. I watched as a lady doctor put music headphones on the girl's head after she had been laid on one of the boxes of peanuts. The doctor saw me watching and asked if everything was okay. I knew if I let on that I could see what was really happening I was in trouble so I just asked if the soldier would live, listened to the planned reply, and went back to the exercise.

A couple of days later I was at a gas station in the back woods near my home. The girl was there with her family. She saw me, I saw her. She jumped into my car - excited - and said, "Hi!"

I wanted to say hi back, but... I had to look at her and say, "Honey, you don't know me."

She jumped immediately back to her family. And I've wondered about her ever since.

Why *would* anyone believe a Butterfly who remembers these things, when we've been told to see things not as they really are?

So I went to Heaven after I had been nearly created. And I served The Lord. Who was at the bad end of a coup. And watched as everyone was put to death, one by one, until I feared for my life enough to run. Because of everyone there, I had managed to retain individual thought. Which, I might add, my first handler prized in me. I'm not sure why.

The surroundings of that memory are full of smoke, clouds, and there's just nothing there. So. Maybe it didn't happen. Who knows.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

A Book I Found.

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/399382
Autobiography by a former underage sex slave

By Niiles Punkari

Incest, forced prostitution, insanity, alcoholism, violence and submission, all in the heart of the Swedish welfare state. After a brutal childhood Niiles Punkari begins a journey towards some form of recovery. It is a journey full of mistakes which are depicted in explicit details, a style which is compensated with intellectual mediation in the most awkward spots - so humor exist also. More


Nonfiction » Biography » Autobiographies & Memoirs

Monday, February 10, 2014

Interesting event happened today.

I received an email inviting me to interview for some sort of Experiencer group TV thingie. I'm not sure what the project is myself. They said, "Our (name deleted) team and television production are looking for fellow experiencers who would like to share their extraterrestrial encounters with our team for on-camera investigation and research. Each member of our team and production crew is involved with ongoing alien encounters, so no one has ever assembled a better group to seek out answers to the alien phenomenon. (Name deleted) was created after my alien visitors told me to seek out those like myself and then look within. Our cosmic scavenger-hunt has begun."

It took me a while to decide what I was going to do. I was tempted, but weighing my options and my past ... experience (for lack of a better term) I decided best not. So I sat down to decline. I did it as gracefully as I could, taking time off from work to explain why. This is what I wrote, taking out some names to protect folks:

"Hi there and thank you for contacting me.I'd love to help you out, but I've learned a horrible lesson. The minute I do anything UFO related under my real persona, for some reason it's like no one notices I'm there. Or I get called a liar. Or researchers like yourself take what they want and then dump me like a bad girlfriend. All of this is very emotionally draining and painful, and I've gotten pretty jaded in regards to those who claim they want to help. It's pretty consistent they don't. The last MUFON researcher I bothered with, well. Let's just say he wanted fame, which he got, and when I stopped playing ball he dumped me. Meanwhile his partner treated me like I didn't have the right to learn or know anything but it was perfectly okay for him and his cousin to use me to learn how to astral travel and do things his cousin ended up abusing in an unethical way. And being attached to this stuff was actually hurting my author career - which is weird because so many big names are doing okay being attached - so it's like an identity crisis version of the Alien Lovebite. And it's frustrating to sit and listen to people talk about things you relate to but the minute you open your mouth everything goes sour, no matter how nice and accommodating you try to be. Can't even get memberships in forums....But my point is, I'm not up to another episode where I get used, dried up, and thrown away. I get attached to people and I'm tired of being used.

I'd love to help you on a research basis, because that would help me, but I don't have the resources... and I'm sure I'm not sexy, witty, young or thin enough to help out. =^-^= So what I will do is give you the link to (my) free book. It's a simple account. There's nothing unusual in it, and it's not complete because I can only work on it here and there. But there it is. Maybe there's something in it you can use"

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/4990

I figured from here I'd never hear from them again, but they gave me a prompt reply before the day was over. When I saw the email in my box, I was actually surprised to see it. For a fleeting moment, I naively thought to myself that maybe they were interested in creating a real support bond, something that would let me participate. This is what I got:

Just so you know I'm not a researcher, I'm an Experiencer and have been my entire life.  It's sad that you judge me without ever talking with me and my work has always been about supporting fellow Experiencers and creating ongoing relationships.  Anyway this is the reality you've created in your imagination and I'm not here to force anyone to share their experiences.  So sad that you judge...

Wow. Just. Wow. "On-camera investigation and research" = researcher. Maybe I shouldn't have over explained. But on the other hand, maybe he shouldn't have assumed. And furthermore: he's "not here to force anyone to share" wtf?!?! I could have sworn I shared by linking him to a book that is my experiences that he could have for FREE. I wonder if he even gave it a chance.

And thinking further, that entire email was me sharing an experience. Isn't that what the fuck he asked for? If he wants to bond people together, he needs to learn to deal with the damage other jerks have done. I'm not the only one that has been kicked around, although I'm probably the most vocal.

My response: You weren't being judged. I'm just tired and worn out. There were key phrases in that message such as "anything UFO related" which means "anything beyond researchers". Also not once did I call you a researcher. I just stated the last researcher I dealt with did those things. 

So sad you're more worried about how someone may or may not be judging you versus when they open up and share the very pain you claim to want to experience with and help.  You could have handled my message, really the entire situation, better. Glad I've developed the habit of putting things on the table to see how people really are. I didn't judge you. But it's interesting how you turn it around to judge me. But, that is that.

Ha, I just checked. Mercury is in retrograde. Go figure. Well. Good luck to you. 



****

Upon re-reading I do see where I called him a researcher. Shoot. So I shot another email: Okay I see where I called you a researcher. Sorry if I got that wrong. You approached me like one. However, the rest of what I have to say still stands. Apologies. Moving along, good luck. I won't email you again.

I've been through I think 20 people, looking for a way to get answers? And that's just in my later adult life. They weren't all researchers, but they all did end up being bad for me whether they meant it or not. I've been used, lied to, manipulated, had my programming tampered with, thrown out on my ear, and lost my children. Damn this shit, if I'm going to worry about this guy who can't even read a letter straight. If he misunderstands my initial contact, I can't imagine how bad he'll do with anything else I have to say.

Just checked. Mercury is in retrograde, and that isn't helping I'm sure. Man I hate it when Mercury is in retrograde. I've been getting bs like that over what seems to me to be clear statements all week.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

UFOs / E.B.E. - President Reagans ET Briefing Serpo's Secret Files - MUFON.flv

Now speaking as though this briefing were the real thing - and it was investigated by MUFON so it's no walk in the park - there are at least two important things to note that completely counter the way the religious UFO nuts are talking these days. And then just a thing on how the world works. 1. There is indeed at least one hostile race. 2. The Nordics may just be bugs in disguise, because they can change their appearance to the naked eye. Mind you, the bugs have also been found to be in league with the Reptilians who also can put on a glamour (the old term for this). So you have to quest these beautiful beings that come to us speaking of love, light and anything else to lure people in. Karla Turner had a documented case of a man who was lured out by a beautiful blonde alien, and when he got there the reptilian dropped its disguise, slammed the man to the ground and pumped his stomach. Maybe we just have trouble thinking of bugs as ever gaining enough intelligence to know how to handle us like animals. Or lizards for that matter. But it's apparent they do indeed have such an intelligence. 3. The media has been getting used for longer than we thought. It's more blatant and money controlled now than it was then, but it's been going on. Of course Hitler was doing it before the 1950's... 4. Not every UFO is of alien origin. I remember stating in a MUFON meeting that most things in the sky were actually man-made in origin. It pissed people off. Yet here is a MUFON meeting where this meeting with President Reagan is brought up that talks about how we're led to believe things are of alien origin, when really in the end they're UFOs to us simply because we didn't identify them. 5. I notice nowhere in this conversation did anybody bring up bloodlines or talk about how wonderful it is to be a MKultra registered poodle. Just saying.

Monday, January 20, 2014

Wee Little King

I had this dream last night in which this little king was dying. It was a Middle Eastern type country with plastered walls. The king was a tiny man and bald with dark skin. His feet were very bad, so that throughout the dream I made it a point to avoid being near his feet in case I stepped on them.

He had no family, no one around him except guards, military generals and me. And I was a servant assigned to be near him somehow - I was a young girl, and I had been placed in that body after being taken from my own. They marked my arms, whoever they were, because I was on a mission.

I felt sad for the little king, and I wanted to comfort him with friendly company. But I was just a servant. I managed to sneak back to his hospital chamber and pretend to look in. He saw me there and asked me to sit by his side on his white, silk sheets.

He said something about his role in life taking away his identity and I told him how there were quite a few kings whose real names we no longer remembered. He asked me to name two. And I couldn't remember any. Embarrassing.

And then somehow I was put into a different body with the wrong tattoos. So when he saw me again to him I was a different person. I said something about not wanting to hurt his feet, and he said to me that there was someone else who often said that. He looked at me in wonder, and I smiled at him.

There are jumbled memories of other scenes. There was a young man who noted the tattoos on my arms, but by then I was in the wrong body and was leery lest he mistake my presence. So I lied about one and made the other appear mysterious by not divulging information.

But I have no idea what I was doing there.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

An Intergalactic Historian? Contracts and the Akashik Records



Listening to the interview, some things were spot on. Some of it sounded like a very garbled version of how it works - much like trying to read a history book that tries to explain the Vikings but still only manages to convey they could be vicious. Nevermind the Vikings were also matriarchal, loving, family orientated, etc...

His talk about the fifteen beings is true. I've met their tendrils, the ones that were aware they were tendrils. They were content with being tendrils. Proud of it even. Couldn't wait to go home and tell themselves their experience. Some were nice. Some were petty. Some were controlling. Some were all about free will. So he's telling the truth about their existence.

The thing I object outright to was his firm statement on the getgo that you can just change your contract wil-nilly. And I say from experience, no you can't. Or maybe I should say you shouldn't. Oh, you can change it. This is a free will thing. It's just if you decide you want a contract for the intent of getting something, you get what you want, and then break it... well...

This is how I've learned to think and feel about it:

You can enter a contract.
You can choose not to enter a contract.
You can break at any time, even at a selfish time.
You can ignore the contract.
You can honor the contract.
You can renegotiate the contract.
The contract is binding only so long as you are alive. When you are born, a new contract is written. I know this because I've had to have three contracts so far this life.
When a contract runs out you have the right to get a new one. You may not always be offered a new one.

One thing about free will people work very hard to ignore is the matter of consequence. I've had a lot of people come to me for contracts because they wanted this or that, and it's easier for some people to use a bridge as a messenger. Often it's in exchange for a favor or agreeing to follow a certain path. "You will have a better job but in return you have to take your child to the park every weekend" type of thing. In one case it was "your finances will stabilize but you'll need to be there for the group on the whole in some fashion" - and that's how I was able to finally go to see the Spear of Destiny in person.

There is a cost when you ask for specific favors because it takes a lot of work to rearrange plans and energies for your convenience. You are not the whole be all and end all of the universe. Not even I get to ask for arbitrary favors! That's why it's in my contract to get arbitrary favors.  ;-)

The problem is after they got what they want, they decide they want to break contract. So they do. This leaves a karmic debt, and if there's one thing that will fuck your life up in a major way it's a karmic debt. The more selfish, dishonorable and petty your actions to create the karmic debt, the bigger the fuck up.

It isn't that Quid Pro Quo is trying to hold people down or put you in a control state. It's that you put out negative energy, stole from the universe in a selfish fashion, and then cut lifelines to things that were set up based on your word in order to not have to pay back what can only be considered a debt to your own life. If you can't help it, well obviously it's not a negative thing. But those that do it on purpose then have things happen that leave them railing "I hate you God!!" when it's in fact their fault.

That selfish act to cut your contract in half is like splitting a karmic atom. The picture that comes to my mind is a swirling mass of black, dark and angry energy that the contract breaker brought into being. It's an explosion of the breach of contract. And it swirls around the lines and forces: the line where they were going to the story or the intent to see their grandparent before they pass. It can be very strong and very destructive. Picture Hurricane Katrina smashing into your personal energy field when you're trying to save your house. And it's not God's fault. It's not some bureaucracy in the sky. It's yours.

This is not to say that other people's ill actions and negativity can't affect you in the same fashion. It's saying that breaking a contract - which in affect is breaking a promise - has that effect and should never be taken lightly.

But don't worry, you're not bound in nasty ways forever. Instead of breaking a promise, try renegotiation. "I want out, is there some other way I can repay the energy?" type deal. If you think you're stuck relearning the same lesson over and over again, maybe it's up to you to make arrangements for new lessons. Or maybe it's up to you to simply stop going through the same rut over and over again. I mean if you learned the lesson why in the hell are you making the same mistakes?

We read over the terms of breaking contract. I actually had to have one of my personal counsel "whisper" in my ear what one sentence meant. LOL. When I call the Fishbowl I use straight forward language. "Hey you guys," to call every one to order for example.

He has written these contract breaking terms to be very limiting. For example they only call upon DNA lineage ancestors. So other blokes who are involved but aren't "family" as it were can't come?

I don't think he meant to. And he assigns you to earth (see: references to earth mother) when the contract is broken. Be careful what you're reading. If you really must break your contract be exact, precise in what you have to say, and know that every word you speak out loud has tons of consequence.

And if you do the break of contract for media, bank or government prepare to not open a bank account, never listen to the radio and try to live outside the law. The minute you participate you take their energy and they're taking yours. It's as simple as that. Learn some shielding and be careful with what you do instead.

I feel his contract breaking rituals are sorely lacking in that he doesn't end them with throwing marshmallows as people, as I have been doing for ten years.

Maybe I should shake things up and graduate to flaming marshmallows. Or fireballs. Whichever is brighter. 

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Same Soul, Many Lives



A blast from the past and a touch on the future for the start of the New Year!