SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0296
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995
BLOG SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“KEYS, TRIGGERS, AND INDICATORS”
WORLD LABORATORIES OF 2294
SEND-BACK-TEXT (SBT) DATE AND TIME FILE (DATFILE)
CH-0296-122911.060
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN © 2006-2011
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:
All right folks, here is a hard punching tale of misery without sparing the feelings of some people involved, sort of along the lines as if written or co-written with me, and called the Mark Mohr/Dawn King Saga of dogshit. But bear with me, there will be some light at the end of the tunnel, even if it is the one that holds each galaxy together, and keeping them from falling out into space, and endlessly drifting into a meaningless merge.
First off, Dawn-Marie King the late, did not always steer me wrong, and indeed knew many of my huge secrets, and long before I did, in some cases. No one needs be specific here. The powerful peeps all know what's being said. It is coming up now on the year anniversary from when she departed this horrendous veil of tears, and she had to be eliminated, as she was a major KEY in many of the Melanie recipes, all part of, and intrinsically winding through; the Morianity Project of 1995; that technically began on the previous Halloween day in 1994, at National Park, New Jersey, at the post office there; when I sent into the United States Mail, my copyright for my book called, “The Permission Barrier”. Yes on New Years day of 2010, nearly a year ago now, the mighty Dawn-Marie King, woke up from that dream, leaving behind the total devastation and destruction of one Michael Wayne Mountainpen/Mark Wayne Mohr, of Hammonton, New Jersey, and Fort Pierce, Florida, USAESMWG. She died from Liver Cancer, or at least this was recorded by the Coroner of Atlantic County I'm quite sure. But as with my own mother, David Charles Roth, and others I'm quite sure; a lot more is going on than the simple quick rubber stamped death certificates, the funeral arrangements; and then life moving onward by the 'living'. In the case of Dawnie Terra, things were cosmically way more complex than normal perceptions or ordinary sciences would ever be able to realize. Only the usage of Quantum Physics could hope to more successfully begin to probe into the deeper and darker truths and realities that lay hidden behind these ugly Oz curtains. And deep dark hidden truths indeed are there folks. If you ever believed anything that I ever said, believe freaking this please. Throw all the other shit in the garbage can if you must, but spare this powerful truth, in the name of all humanity. Think this is literary license or exaggeration permission, and you will be as wrong as wrong can get. Before moving on, I had a computer freeze up and hack that occurred an hour earlier when I was on the net, and trying to get onto the You-Tube, so that I could click around on the millions of cool CHEMTRAIL videos. It saddens me at light speed squared, that no matter how much proof is offered to unpleasant truths, peeps would rather die and watch their loved ones die, and in agony with unknown diseases and poisonings, just to keep alive what my prior blogs refer to as the GWPOS, or GIANT WILLIAMSTOWN POLICE OFFICER SYNDROME. Yes Selena Dada, let me get my shoes off, and then let me get my skin off, and then pluck my eyes out so as to avoid seeing the wretched up 1988 copyrighted poached eggs. Sounds yukky huh? Well, it was worse; when the great Library of the Congress first heard these inconceivable audio tapes, on my original EPITOME OF HARASSMENT; back when I misspelled the word epitome, and was beaming cars from 5133 Oakland Avenue in Philly, over to 7 East Main Street in Moorestown, New Jersey. Munikay-Munikay, breaking my codes off, code-2, code-2, Munikay. No, I will carry these memories with me forever, as it is not possible to forget any of this, oh mighty broadcasting networks of America, sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit.
Before we really get going however on Dawn, and the last two or three years of her life; where I was involved with for the most part; let us discuss Mommy Ann. She told me how a man was in the medical office there in Berryville-Hammonton, and was telling the doctor he would be a lot physically better, if not for those fucking chemtrails, quoting Ann; and what she told me he said, and for all I know, he did say this. For all I know, Paula King married a military man, who she met at an Atlantic City music concert, and Sarah Callio may very well have gotten herself beaten up by some biker-bitch in an Atlantic City bar, and is now in some nursing home facility, and many other things she told me may all be true. But in a new light, they may all be a big bunch of fucking hooey. Ann warned me that she was a mean person, and that was no lie. She said if someone hurts her, she will always get them back, and she must have seen my escaping that life of total torment as a personal betrayal on her, instead of seeing it through eyes of maturity. One thing I'll say about all of this family; they act like eternal teenagers. THEY SIMPLY PUT FOLKS, REFUSE TO GROW UP, and that is all fine and well and totally their own business. Just do it without me, as I want to grow, and get older, and die; and leave this hellish place behind. Each person marches to a different mother fucking drummer, and that is fine and well with me; it simply means that a blogged story like mine, will need to be amended and adjusted quite often; in order to properly reflect the necessary changes so that we can forever aim our course towards Truth Boulevard, and away from the side streets, such as Liars Lane, Delusion Path, and so forth. I NEED REALITY. The great BANCROFT SCHOOL, of HADDONFIELD, NEW JERSEY; drilled this fucking shit into me peeps; and nobody on Planet Earth, will ever take it away from me; and that I'll promise all of you, with a 'Foreman Guarantee', whether I like the way I'll look or not, after he boxes my brains out.
Lads, Lassies, and Labradors; the only reason Dawn's mother Ann called me down here in Florida, was to hurt me, and she did. This entire rotten to the core family, will not be satisfied until they pound every ounce of my pathetic flesh, into the ground; and then they can drop a ton of pig-shit on top of where I lay. Two July's ago, I made public and printed, the letters from Dawn-Marie first, and then Ann; that were delivered to my RV-Park in White City, on US-Route One, after I left the motel across the street to live there until that whack job April Lee got me into the 26th Street ghetto hood house with retard Wendy. When I moved out, so did Wendy, from her side of this duplex. It was as though the entire thing was all prearranged and planed and set up decades ago, and if so, why not centuries, why not fifty million years, just as VIQUEEN JEWELLY TOLD ME???????????? But right before I left this duplex up in the hood of Fort Pierce, to come live down here on 7th Avenue at the Public Housing Building; extremely powerful transdimensional shit was happening all around me, and the world knows it; they just don't talk about it or admit it; but if they really think they are fooling me with all their dam crap, then I say, bravo to them; and think whatever the fucking hell turns you on, and floats your screwed up twisted boats.
Yes my Morians, Lessians, and Inbetweenians; like it or snot; the simple truth is that life is indeed made up of some powerful nasty stuff, and it works with pivotal things such as KEYS and TRIGGERS, and thus, an observant astute onlooker, can watch out for, as Dave Roth labeled them quite often, INDICATORS. Now without getting either Donna Summer or Melanie Safka all juiced up and hyper, let me try and further explore this a little bit with you folks, OK JK Waterhoses?????????????????? For a quick example, anyone in this family from hell, can do nothing but hurt and bring you down, AND LOVE IT, MICKEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! On top of that, they all seem to have magical powerful ways to superimpose upon their victims, that they are the bad guy, and it was all our fault. Now I am not excusing 1986, but I am also not excusing 2008, capesha??????????????????????? An old philosophical fable comes to mind that goes, “To keep up a quarrel is simply absurd, as nobody will ever have the last word” and this may sound like a child's story, but think on it, and you can see instant powerful ass stuff here!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Let us do a freaking visual on a few things before I start to wind down the blog at 2:24 AM-EST. First, the Dow Markets tumbled after I printed the great two 'THAT FAMILY' letters in July of OH-MAROLA-TEN. Then came the mind bending censorship of my blogs, converting them into glorified tweet accounts until magically, right out of Harry Potter himself, it somehow restored itself to normal, mystifying great computer minds that I put onto the problem at the time. Within months, the powerful interaction with NASA, the choppers, the phone call between cousins, and Indian River County, Florida, in some semi-localized area in the vast hyperspace, followed by the death of the great KING Morning Light herself, and then the contact with me by phone, but not in any ordinary way, but after I received a call from the 650 area code first, from 36th Avenue in San Mateo, KALI. Shortly after this time, I posted up on the YOU-TUBE, my second of the now three songs I have up there, that GOOGLE has buried, naturally, as always remember what Plato told me a while back, a long while really, “Beware the tide that brings the music message, as it will be remembered the longest, and heard the loudest”. Oh John Lennon old buddy, watch your back, oh never mind; too late for that message!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THIS BWOG TERMINATES FOR NOW FOLKS, WHAAAAAAAAAAA.
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