SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0486
KINGSCREWED
BY THE WORLD OF PURE EVIL NEW SHOES
SUPPLEMENTAL
ENTRY
STARTING
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Do
I have a few things to talk about right now, and the problem is that
I always will, a normal writers dream, and Mountainpen's freaking ass
nightmare. First we will shift over to the age of twenty four or so,
give or take a year, when I tried to secure employment at the New
Jersey Salem Nuclear Plant, and was turned down for being a Candice
Bergman candidate with a full hat in the ring. On one hand, she is
permitted the life of a successful wealthy celebrity, while my
special education schooling, doomed me to be stopped at every turn,
from becoming anything at all, other than an unskilled laborer or
basic non armed security officer. This may answer a lot of questions
that folks have been nice and oh so polite by wondering and never
asking about old Barnacle Bill and other related things from sore
backs to Joe King and ox-cotton pill addictions, and I could go on
and on and on and on and on, but for your sake, readers, I will not.
Yes,
I was told that my being at the special education school, was why I
could not work at the nuclear plant, and is obviously, unless one has
those NHH connections, I know I am in a bad mood and being bad, but I
do not care, this is my life we are talking about; Chevy Chase; so
belt down a few good ones for me old buddy; and it is not that I am
pissed off that I was excluded from working at this place because I
am unstable or whatever these genius shrinks may believe; I am pissed
off at the unfair imbalance of power, as if my name was Huntingberg,
I would have somehow been squeezed in. Now I am not being a hater or
a racist here, I totally accept the way things are in this world. But
why can't everybody else except it? This is why a lot of peeps don't
totally fall in love with ANY KIND OF privileged folks, how would you
like it if you were us on this end, and the shoes, new or old, smelly
or pine tree clean, were on the reversed foot, and it was you who had
a rotten horrible shitty life on Earth, because you were being
stopped on every angle. I am in a series of numerous hates, and it is
others who wear the “I HATE YOU” sign on their bodies, not me, I
am the fucking ass victim. First, there was the Shah of Iran and the
CIA plan with him and his great wonderful friend, my Aunt Geraldine
Snow Mason, wife of Stuart Huntington Mason, back in the late
nineteen-sixties, who planned and plotted something that would
eventually lead to mayor changes in this world, from what otherwise
what would have been. Later on when things attacked me and their
plans began moving into fruition, naturally, I began feeling the
super effects of these monstrous things, and suddenly was not able to
function as well as I needed to in public school, so first I am sent
to a psychiatric hospital called NJ Neuro Psychiatric Institute at
the tender age of ten years, where I was almost killed on several
occasions by real crazies who were twice my psychical size back in
1965, and after this trauma, I was expected to just go and fit right
into a high school setting in a school where the grades went from
7-12, in Westmont, called, Haddon Township high School, in New
Jersey. When this bombed out, I ended up at the special education
school until January of 1973. Someone in the Board of Education felt
so guilty about how I was mishandled and viciously treated by the
authorities for no good reason whatsoever, they made a deal with my
mother that if I could pass a general academic test that was
basically like a GED, they would give me a real local high school
diploma, and they did, but if asked by anyone doing a serious
background check, and requesting full disclosure from Collingswood
High School, they would still have to send them the records from my
special education school, called Bancroft, in Haddonfield, New
Jersey. So on one hand, privileged rich L&O loved by Trump Candy
got to live one kind of life, while I literally was just tossed to
the dogs, and the wooooooooooolves, huh Dicky? Now this is about one
or two percent of the story of my life's victimization and story of
total mother fucking injustice. Go ahead folks, tell me if this was
your kid that this was happening to, that you wiould be totally fine
and OK with all of this, one or two percent, remember, this blog
could go on and on with my true honest nightmare, for days straight,
and still I'll wager, not have told close to my entire story straight
from dam hell itself.
Ever
since my mother dropped me while carrying me in the streets of
Philadelphia, check this out John McDowell a few years later; old
Philly-Nurse whose mom became good friends with at the 2041 Chestnut
Street address, near the Hans Worshing boys Club of America, like
hurricanes and Women's Liberation, girls were not yet added into the
freaking mix, but that could take a year or so to mix this all in,
the complexities involved would rival nuclear rocket science and
Vonstein type genius minds, but yes, she dropped me, and maybe this
fucked me up, maybe not, who can know, but in any case, I have had a
rough time of it since the time I arrived on this fucking planet, and
would be more than happy to find a way off of it, if I could. Some
know that I have tried, and it appears that I am stuck here, to do
the bidding of a powerful great goddess who I knew thousands of years
ago that I loved, but she prevented me from remembering our
interactions together where she endlessly sings beautiful songs to
me, in her great city of SDK. I speak of a previous life a while back
as a shepherd boy, later to be great king, and songwriter, and
genetic mover and shaker of the present Huntington family, all of
them, ALL OF THEM. You know, believe me, disbelieve me, that is your
privilege, as is mine, to know it is all gospel fact and truths. Back
when computers that were first on most everyone's desk was a new
reality, along came the stories all over the EW about virtual reality
and artificial intelligence, and for me, it is so easy to see the
powerful truths behind this. I all ready have a beautiful song done
by President Obama, or a computer with his voice sampled, and others
by others, but you know, it brings a person a sense of just how real
this all will definitely become. It is almost old school now to
discuss these things because Hollywood as they always do, make every
possible penny out of any new idea or item, and they literally ate up
a lot of 13th Floor plot stories like my book in 1994,
“TPB”, but you know, one that they never did, and it amazed me,
since tolerance has now reached far beyond what it was in the 60-90
years, and I doubt anyone but a few religious crazies would object,
of course, this may not be the perfect time to open up this kind of a
can of potential worms, but let me do it anyway. It is time people
grow up. The story line would begin with a high school family, it
could be the year 2050 or maybe not even that far away. It is a
typical household with lots of computers and electronic stuff all
over the place, and the story would center around and be about three
persons, am teen aged brother and sister, the brother is the geek,
the sister a cheerleader beauty queen, and the third character not
yet involved. They create a master program where an entire universe
is created, and at some sleep over party with his sister and her
girlfriends, they all enter or jack into this fantastic program, if I
can borrow the expression from the great “Lawn Mower Man” movie
series, here; and they find themselves in a world where they live in
a city beyond imagination, half a million miles long, with giant
structures all over, twenty mile walls surrounding the place, all the
streets and sidewalks filled with cobblestones made out of smooth
gigantic jewels, the sky scrappers stretching up nearly a mile high
and made of gold and silver and platinum, and all around them and
every place there, quadrillions of bright colored lights that never
stop shinning. The girls are transformed to a thousand times their
original physical beauty, and the sister of the programmer just knows
that she is the leader of these other girls, and just suddenly knows
that her name is Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle, and that she always
was and always will be. This becomes her new memory. A boy who she
was crushing on in school who never paid her any attention was there
also, and she had turned him into her dog, a big dalmatian, named
Yancy. When they got tired and ran out of energy, they slept just as
all entities sleep, usually after about 144 Earth length hours. Then
for 24 Earth length hours, they would all begin dreaming that they
were in a lower type of a reality where the skies were filled with a
septillion lovely bright stars, and one planet was created by this
master program for this dream to occur on. While dreaming, they
assumed identities, and began finding more and more ways to dream
varying dream realities due to a built in feature of the program,
that I have been calling hyperspace or transdimensional parallel
universes of the 5-D multiverse. Still, it is not real or tangible,
and is just a computer program from a home in a neighborhood in an
average city and town in this, for lack of saying it with a greater
clearer understanding, UPLINE WORLD. Sarah-Stacey begins to remember
in the realm where she lives in her city with many friends and even a
family created by this super advanced quantum cosmiputer system, that
she can do anything and has no limitations. She begins to experiment
and play with millions of created dreams all throughout hyperspace
below, and on one particular one, she creates a timeline of her
so-called people, and begins operating this game where she is the
great king of kings and lord of lords. Eventually, the advanced days
begin to catch up in one of these games, computers and all, and she
created the boy she always loved so much, and made him dream down
along with her, into this advanced timeline under-world with her. One
of her family members, due to the way this program was set up by her
brother, who she believes totally in her memories is working against
her, and calls him Satan the devil, actually becoming the hologram of
her real brother outside of the jacked in reality, decides to get his
older sister, to make some changes. It is 1980 in this dream now, and
she is told to begin slowly reminding him that SSJK always loved him,
and calls him THAT-BOY, making him special in a way because hi goes
beyond any name, as far as she is concerned. She had just appeared to
him as a boy on several occasions, and later as a young grown up man,
singing a lovely song to him, and this was driving the poor dude
crazy at this point, so the safeguards built into this program,
caused this other family member, one of the Lightnings, a girl named
Diana Arteemis, to slowly show him what was going on over a 25 year
period in the so called dreaming world that they were also
interacting in. After certain things continued and points were
reached where THAT-BOY began remembering things, and so did
Sarah-Stacey Jehovah Krassle, both on the first level as well as the
dreaming second level, computer technology was catching up to the
place where all of this began in the first place. Nobody can of
course as of yet really know how the show will end, as will THAT-BOY
simply recreate his own SSJKK and entire system, as she did, or will
she decide to end the program first, and either all of this will
disappear and vanish as though it never was, or she will decide to
remain in her creation, and endlessly love her special Zeranniss
Arthur Yancy Jones or THAT-BOY? This of course is a bit beyond, in my
opinion, where even Hollywood or James Patterson wants to ever go,
but I see it, as the biggest box office hit in history, and I feel
the world is ready to be given this real truth, in a fictional movie
form, left to wonder, could it be, can it be true opera singer Aunt
Barbara Maud Mason, sister of my secrets queen mother?
Last
night, I was back again at 1802 Robin Hill apartments, in Voorhees,
New Jersey. Many wild peeps were there, my aunt Geraldine Snow Mason,
who was there several times in waking life back in 1980 and 1981, but
many other strange folks were there as well. The entire washcloth
family was there, and my younger daughter Pee or Paula Junior was
there. I am with her almost every single night now, and this makes me
ecstatically happy, as I really love her so very much, and miss her
so terribly. What happened however, is really not too safe to blog
about right now, let me leave the sleeping dogs to just lay back and
relax for right now.
I
will say this much folks, because I have a question for the one who
told me so much about the 13th floor, be it machine
generated, or cosmically generated, and the same realm creates both
these mind generations, sending them down into a lower 5th
dimensional hyperspace, so it really doesn't matter anyway? My
question was originally asked of her in 1983 in Atco, without any
moves help or moving help from Mister Avenue Chuckie, or Susie Rassel
and other Mister Avauu's from 1999. My question has been in the
possession of the US Library of Congress now for about 29 years, give
or take a month or two. It is as follows:
Have
you ever ever wondered where the shadows dwell by day? All the things
you wished you knew, and the thoughts you cannot say? I will tell you
anything that you always want to hear. The way you are today is as
the broken rudders steer. You think you know, you feel you know, you
stop and go so fast and slow. How can you know if I don;t show? I
will you know and gladly so, and then you'll know and then you'll
flow.
It
was many many days back before it got so bad. We all were fools for
never seeing just how much we had. And the danger would be great, and
today would be too late, if we put the letter “C” back before the
letter “B”, or put the letter “G” back before the letter “D”.
But now's the time to make it rhyme, and not to do so is a crime, the
mountain tops are there to climb.
All
the doctors in the world, with their famous EKG. They can never see a
broken heart, or mend it properly. Those magnetic fields of power,
strong enough to split the soul, cannot be heard or felt, until they
take their final toll. The good and bad together seem to make the
worlds go round. So thank you kindly Adam, as Pandora's box you've
found.
Verse
one repeats again, in my song from 1983. No there is no escape for
me, but who says that I want to, Goddess Scylla my brown eyed
love??????????????????????????????????????????????????
I
would love to go over there right now, and have it be 28 years ago,
no nightmares, no Kal, just academies and Grants. IWALU, SSJKK. If
you don't know this girl, UI quit right here and right now, LT.
Anita.
ENDING
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