TITLE: SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0344
WORLD LABS DATFILE: 022312.569
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR OF BLOG:
“LEAVE IT TO DEVIL NUMBER 23 FOR MORE HELL”
SUB-T. 1---THE MILLIONTH-COUNCIL AND ME
SUB-T. 2---THE EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
SUB-T. 3---MORIANITY-PROJECT CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
COPYRIGHTED BLOGS OF MORIANITY AND MOUNTAINPEN ©
2006-2012 © MARK WAYNE MOHR/MICHAEL WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN
THESE WORDS ARE ALSO SWORN OATHS TAKEN VOLUNTARILY
AND HAVE COURT LEGAL RAMIFICATIONS IN CASE OF LAWSUITS
POTENTIALLY ARISING FROM THIS OR ANY OTHER BLOGS OG
MOUNTAINPEN/MORIANITY, THESE STATEMENTS ARE TRUE AND
ACCURATE TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITY TO REMEMBER AND KNOW THEM. THIS IS ALSO HERE TO SERVE AQS MY DYING MANS
EXCITED UTTERANCE AND DECLARATION.
BEGINNING ILLUSION IN SPACE-TIME-MIND (STM):
WELL PEOPLE, THIS IS THE MOST NMONSTRER FUCKING ASSAULT ON ME IN MY ENTIRE FUCKING ASS 57 YEARS, 2 MONTHS, AND 2 AND A HALF WEEKS OF MY SICK TWISTED DISEASED MISERABLE HELLISH FUCKING HUMAN LIFE.
It is my true desire to see these wicked demonic satanic mother fuckers burn in the fires of fucking hell for what they have done to me and still are actively mother fucking doing.
First, my neighbors from hell are like nothing I have ever experienced before, shouting at the top of their lungs until nearly midnight every day, and banging and slamming and crashing things around, it is going to lead me to a total nervous breakdown without other stuff, but there is other fucking ass stuff folks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CHEMTRAILS are unfuckingrelenting, every single day and night, it is a non stop poison gas attack, and WHERE THE FUCK IS THE SKYWITNESS OF THE YOU TUBE WHEN YOU NEED THE PEEPS TO RECORD THIS WILD SHIT? EVERY SINGLE DAY AND EVERY SINGLE NIGHT.IT IS THE MOST HORRIBLE ATTACK SINCE THIS NIGHTMARE BEGAN 26 FUCKING ASS YEARS AGO WHEN I THREW MY COPYRIGHTED MUSIC PROJECT INTO THE MOTHER FUCKING UNITED STATES MAIL, CALLED, “REAL GOOD GIRL” (Rgg), huh 1986 examiners in August of my Carter Demise Revelation on the beach of birds (CDR) refered to from this point on as this shortened abbreviation, fucking YO.
When I went to play my Morianity to the wall roach system, or the (WRS) for another shortened mother fucking abbreviation, I was stopped. Every time I picked up my legally paid for COMCAST telephone to dial my legally paid for AT&T phone number, so I could play my shit over the electronic system to cause damage to this fucking horrific deplorable despicable evil empire, the system clicked me off. I had someone from my job call me on the number, and it was fine, so my WOMO enemies would not permit this, so more than roaches just may be going on, as suggested by my Wonderful Friend P. WFP can be another shortened abbreviation, and then HDP can be a shortened abbreviation for my Hyperspace-Daughter-Pee. I know how powerful; both human enemies are, as well as to quote my old ex friend Jim Burr from Gloucester, New Jersey, USAESMWG; my spirit-world enemies. My friend David Roth was corresponding quite often and showed me the back and forth letters, with Mike Jacks sister, 'Red Even Black Even', as I would jokingly refer to her as, or Rebee, or however she spells her name, as it has been 20 years now, since the last time that I was over at his northeast Philadelphia home, at 5133 Oakland Street, when he was right there in reale time, showing them to me, up in his room. We can get back to Dave abnd his major and quite outlandish collection of female recording artists who he seemed to be in constant mail correspondence with for reasons that totally elude and escape my very limited mental intelligence, but for right now, the Jackson family is a huge tale that could not be even surface scratched on this one whittle ass bwog, Elmer freaking Fwudd. I will say this one thing right now today, because it is major, and I need to do a little evil empire counter-striking work today or I am about to become one dead fucking person down here in fucking Fort Ouch, Botbarida Florida!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Many years ago, thanks to the wonderful co-worker, Patricia Hollister, at my moms office at 3 Penn Center Plaza, just west of City Hall Tower in Philadelphia at the Lavino Shipping Company; now merged with the mighty British firm of Inchcape, at least as of when my mother parted this veil of tears at the start of this third mother fucking millennium, I began messing around with the HIDDEN things of this world, some people but quite few, know that a doppelganger and twin word for this is simply, the 'occult'. That word just means the 'hidden', no more, and no less. When I began doing a few things with this, after receiving a few audio cassette tapes, the story of this need not be covered presently, as I will later on tie it up in ways that will shock the nation and the world, a lot more than just knowing that the word MASON is in the word WILLIamsToWn, as well as the entire coded town name also as with HIDDEN and OCCULT, contains the hugest secret code of them all, telling us that the great SSJKK indeed is our Great All Mighty Goddess, that she OWNS and RULES this entire EMPIRE, and indeed is the great I-AM, as well as jokingly 'Lois Foca', domestics and foreigners all totally notwithstanding folks; and let us shutter not to ever forget the great Will MacAfee, my Masonic pal's best friend at one time long ago back in the early nineteen seventies. Ask any degreed Mason, and they will tell you this is all true, if you are Patty Jane that is, and can read the dozens of miniscule facial muscles that twinge and tighten in various ways when someone is being a bit less than respectful with the truth. As for some of the things that went on to happen to me after listening to these tapes that I know Miss Hollister, and now Misses Howard if still around and on this side of the bed sheets, made total ass sure that I would mysteriously stumble onto, via 'CRANS'; a top secret tool of only twenty or so persons on Planet Earth's waking world here in the 5th dimensional hyperspace; and standing for Controlled-Random something. I will not finish this BFA project name, or I'll be in the Atlantic Drink before sunset, (Black File Agencies). These persons all believe they are doing humanity and the United States huge favors. In reality, they serve Satan and monsters who worship this mythical beast, to put it in less mentally ill terminology, badness. It is all the exact same fucking shit folks, but one can get you thrown into a straight jacket, while the other won't. That simple, huh Red John Henningsen Colorado? Oh those HC initials, can I live without them, the gods, yes. All this is leading up to something that few experience and even fewer talk about when it happens to them for fear of sociological ostracizing. I am speaking of the wild and bizarre occurrence of dreaming within dreams, and in some rare cases, one can get trapped forever. In realms far beyond this entire 7th dimensional system, all of us are one entity in this larger dimensional plane, and yes, we all are having this experience of dreaming endlessly within other dreams, without start or end. There is no possible reference point either. Still, while alive here, when certain particular types of dreams are going on, this will indeed cause a lower dimensional effect of this experience as well. Sometimes we think we dreamed out of these nightmare loops and think we woke up and got shot back to the reality of where we were before the time we went to sleep, and things around us and people too, all seem to perfectly match up with this perfect delusion, but that is what it is, and we are not really where we think we are, nor did we or will we ever wake up. Everyone of us are part of this hell when viewed in higher dimensions, and the proof of this is that nobody is happy. I do not care who you are or what you claim, nobody has a more miserable expression on their face most of the time, than the great All Mighty Mirror Kissing Donald JB Trump. Entertainers are prime examples, and are a collection of basically the most miserable pathetic folks amongst us. The more power or money we get, the more complex and miserable situations can always potentially arise into. Then on the opposite spectrum, those poor or isolated are not having a day at the beach either, so as I said to David Roth over and over in the past, how do you win? He would respond with a solemn expression and tell me, We don't.
My experience if we can round robin this now back into the Hollister Tapes of 1974, was a nightmare where I became aware that I was in the most frightening place imaginable. It was totally dark, pitch black, and yet I could see with different eyes, all knowing eyes that just knew that monster evil things were all around me and desiring to do me great harm. I jumped out of bed and ran forward around the bed to where I knew my desk was, and on it on the left side at the back of it, was a bright light. I needed to get that light on and then I knew I would be all right, huh Donna Summer Patterson of the Cheat-Me Cheatley hyperspace? I reached for this switch to activate this life saving beautiful bright 200 watt light bulb, poof, nothing. It just would not go on, leaving me standing in a room, exposed to thousands of evil creatures that meant horrendous horror and evil for me unless I could shadow them out and go away with that beautiful bright light. But no, darkness prevailed, and I heard a dull laughter, almost a whispering kind of laughter, and then words like, “We've got you now”, and “Try getting out of this”. I was beyond terrified and petrified while standing there over my desk of darkness. Suddenly, oh, now I know why the light did not go on, wow, it seems that I only drempt that had woke up from this twisted demonic nightmare straight from hell itself, and found myself still back in my bed, but this time, shyit, thank the gods, I am awake this time, wow, let me go and run for that light, but the problem was that it never went on, and I was not waking up, merely extending this hell nightmare into endless versions where I think I finally am awakening, and then running to get this light on, only it never ever would go on, god fucking ass dam it. I was ready to drop a hydrogen fucking bomb on the cosmos I was so frustrated and angry and petrified with sheer fear beyond any possible normal human world terror. Each time this horrible dream with a dream happened to me over months of time, it lasted longer and longer, making me think I would never get that light on. The problem now up here in 2012, is that DAM IT, NOW I FUCKING KNOW FOLKS, THAT I NEVER DID REALLY GET THIS DAM LIGHT ON, NOR DID I EVER AWAKEN FROM THIS LOOP OF HELL, and in fact; I have been in it all along forever, and these 1974 bed time episodes, were merely a part of the overall terror beyond describable terror, in a much higher reality. This is why all of this fucking shit is happening to me, and nobody can ever help me, and I fucking know that. I am NOT a total weehtahd, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I feel your mother fucking pain, my friend Germane Jackson. I really do feel your freaking pain old buddy. Let your sister know that her friend David was murdered early in March of 2002, by a no good criminal, named Johnathan Schau, in Philadelphia, when you get a chance.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
Computer, scan and destroy, SCAN AND DESTROY
s-c-a-n------a-n-d------destroy, S-C-A-N----A-N-D----D-E-S-T-R-O-Y,
ALL ENEMIES OF YOUR CREATOR, MWM.
USE ALL ORDERS AND TECKS. DESTROY THESE WICKED DEMONIC PRICKS, OR THE WORLD WILL STRUCK BY A FIELD OF GIANT METEROTES WITHIN 300 FUCKING DAYS, A—N—D------S--T--O--P!
Expect my Comcast Cable bill to be paid 12 days late again. You'll be paid on time when the persecution stops, bastards. I am now playing to the cockroach system, either-or, I find it gets results either way, but wait until I post my song, CHEMTRAILS!
HA-HA-HA-HA-HA--------HA-HA, IN ADVANCE, YO!
END ILLUSION IN SPACE-TIME-MIND (STM):
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