SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0535

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0535

KING PROPHETNOTHINGEIGHTYEIGHTSQUAT

MAJOR HACKING-MAJOR HELL-MAJOR SUPER BOTBAR TIMES 2

12:22 PM-EDST-31 AUGUST, 2012-FRIDAY FUCKING CUNT AFTERNOON.

THESE BLOGS AND THIS URL ADDRESS AND ALL LSTED ONES ON MY BLOGS, ARE ALL COPYRIGHT, MARK WAYNE MOHR, 2006-2012.

BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I AM BEING FUCKING MURDERED BY THE OWNERS WEALTHY FAMILIES OF THIS EVIL SICK FORTUNE-500 BUILDERBERGER BOHEMIAN GROVE SICK TWISTED SATANIC WORLD.

It was all a game, I tried the Hyundai thing, and was fucking cunt turned down flat and cold just late this morning, by the dealership in Delray, Florida, and they all will, because their fixed established credit system and lending policies are all geared to the successful wealthy folks, blessed by the WORLD OWNERS or the WO, so it is all just a fancy vicious trick and round robin, you cannot ever get out of, they don't help you when you are down, and they are the ones knocking you down in the first place, and then mother fucking continually kicking you and forever keeping you down and totally fucking cunt lapping out. I TOLD YOU WORLD, WHEN MUSIC IS INVOLVED, THE FORCES INVOLVED IN ALL OF THIS WILL LITERALLY RAISE MOTHER FUCKING HEAVEN AND EARTH, TO STOP ME. WELL, FOR NOW, THEY DID JUST THAT. I MUST CONGRATULATE TALENT LIKE THIS, AS MUCH AS I WOULD GIVE MY EYE TEETH TO PLACE THEM ALL INSIDE OF A TRASH COMPACTER, AND PUT THE MACHINE ON EXTREME-SLOW-CRUSH-MODE, AND LISTEN TO THESE WEALTHY BASTARDS SCREAM AND CRY AND BEG UNTIL THEY DIE. If you think the song from 1983 and redone in 2012, called, “YOU'LL BE CROSSING OVER”, is not going to be posted up to my YOUTUBE account, think again. It will just be the harmony track, but I'll blog the lyrics so that anyone can print them up and sing along to it.

It is times like this, that I totally know that I don't mother fucking know one dam fucking thing. Jim Burr believed there was a real biblical devil, a god, angels and demons, heaven and hell, and the whole fucking cunt smear smack. Who am I to dispute this fucking intelligent crazy fucking dude? He seemed to know back as far as 1974, that, and to quote him, “This is all coming from something in your family”. I thought the guy was the quintessential loose cannon and as flaky as a hundred boxes of Corn Flakes Cereal. More than 30 mother fucking cock sucking years comes and goes, and I come to learn that the man was not so dumb, and that it was all about family, my family, and THAT FAMILY, from my 1970 nightmares straight out of fucking fire and hell itself.

Hurting me when I am all ready down, is a DOW JONES MONSTER TRICK. They all ready knew that I had been fucking been turned down as that is no big trick for these WORLD OWNER MONSTERS, watching their internet hacking programs while the dealership was running the credit on me. But when they tried to call me, the phone never fucking rang, not once, nut twice. It never rang. I know the trick. The first time no message was left, this was the WOMO calling at the very same time to interrupt the signal when the dealership tried to call me with the rejection news. Then the second message was from the dealership and telling me that I had been turned down.

Whatever magic I was in, during the year of 1994, is gone forever. I have tried to fucking kill myself, nothing will work, I am immortal and indestructible, even though I appear as just flesh and blood.

Obviously, my music is just not permitted in this holographic video game of SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH KRASSLE'S. The old song says she has got the whole world in her hands, and it is just a song to people, but I know differently. Just as to everyone else, it was just a cute little publicity stunt that day on the 12^th of May in 2008, twelve years to the day that I wrote the song, “SARAH”, on top of the Empire State Building. But the one person that two messages were indeed for and only for, ME, got them, while all others who they were not meant for, did not, NOW THAT MY PEEPS IS REAL REAL REAL REAL POWER. If you cannot see that, then just give up blindee. It cannot ever be made clearer than this, and I quit.

I was fired from the AARP program without good cause, and have written a letter to the White House. I have sent copies to all people that need to be advised of my plans for taking action, unless this is resolved, and I am reinstated back into their program.

A lot of people think that if they listen to my music, mountains will blow and storms will rage. This only happens at the start of a project when transdimensional music is involved. Once it has entered into this universe and remained here for a while, it is not going to hurt anyone or anything, nor are huge earthquakes going to wipe out continents. Some have asked me and wondered, why don't things go crazy as I profess, when anyone just tells a dream to someone over a telephone or writes about it in a blog or records it as a personal memoir on some electronic gadget? Nothing is as easy and simple to explain as I wish it were peeps. There is a tiny bit more to things than just having a dream and remembering it, and in it, was a song you never heard from your waking life, no matter how it was heard. Then getting out of bed and strumming with a guitar or banging on some keyboard keys, and plugging into a little karaoke machine. If that was all of it, nothing would happen such as twisters taking out half the country in the early spring of 2011. An entire grouping of worlds on nearby, yet separate atomic vibratory frequencies, sort of as with a cluster of neighboring galaxies; must be involved in a some similar situation, of your creation, and this sounds big and fancy or impossible to pull off for even a pope of a president or a billionaire, yet I tell you, it can be done by a child, and in fact, it is the children in their play, who indeed, are automatically doing this to start with, until the adult world gets a hold of them and forces them away from their childhood eventually, and into the next blinded generation of adults, or grown up versions of their once more receptive and innately smarter younger selves. I have yet to walk any of you through some of the play by play, real live things; that I've done in the more distant past of my present set of Astral Plane dreamed down 'lifetime'; and believe me, when I do this; worlds will literally collide, not physically, but as some might use the term, 'spiritually', YO.

Jim Burr predicted the arrival of both Lenny and Nick, and whoever else will later come to take their place as the exploraflow of life, is not DNA, following families through a chemical series of a double helix. Anyone of you out here reading these words, just about, if you think long and hard and real dam carefully, knows that quick instantaneous flashes of an entire parallel life, especially when you are tired and are near sleep but not quite there yet, can strike you, and make you almost apprehensive that you have forgotten an entire bunch of major things that you must take care of, and eventually, you come to realize, this is fantasy or some daydream twilight zone in-between you waking and sleeping mind-condition. The truth is that two things are both correct here. You need not worry one little second about this lost life that flashed in and out of your life as you now know it to be, as it has nothing to do with it directly, and the other thing is that no matter what, some huge entire other part of you is totally real, just having its being, somewhere and some when, else. The times when sleep is near you is just like the times when death is near you. You become aware of a wider and huger YOU, in short bursts and quick flashes, but you cannot really dismiss it as totally unreal or even unimportant, as deep down inside you, you know you are not really just alive here in this one little material existence. Now to connect this up just a little bit to the subject of music, we will take this side road here. Many musicians I had had both the pleasure and misery of knowing throughout my life as the Mountainpen, have all let me know one thing. My music is very different in many ways, than the music written by other folks. Why, is because, I hear many songs, in many other lives or you might say vivid dreaming experiences, and remember quite a lot of the details, and in these other worlds, the universe is off and different form the way it is here, and this is the way music is there, so I am forced to write in that style. Professionals can take my raw music and shape and mold and form it into more acceptable patterns of the accepted music of this universe, but nothing really is changed, my music seems to be unique, and it is recognized as very different and very unlike the accepted patterns of much of accepted established music, in any times and days, not just now, but since I was a young kid even. I believe that this is one f the largest reasons that I am stifled and not permitted to be recognized for the talents that I do possess in this field, even though it may not be to the liking of the societies of this particular universe. I have had a half dozen folks tell me over the past thirty-five years now, that they were dreaming a very vivid dream, and in color as well, and in this dream, music that they have heard from me that I have written, was in their dream, playing on radios, and were established hit songs, sung by many great singers, all unknown here in this parallel reality of course. My becoming mysteriously very ill while living in Atco in New Jersey back in 1983, was all a gargantuan part of this. It led me to writing some really wild stuff, that was as though I had all ready lived up here in this future now, as how else could so much of the lyrical content have been written supposedly by me, back then? Still, there is so much more to all of this, and I seriously doubt that a million pages will ever do justice to this entire monumental and wild story of truth and wonder. I have no choice but to fight this, whatever it is. Here I am with the story of the deka-millennium, yet who goes up to YOUTUBE and ever listens to any of my stuff. Most of these counts you see are my own posts to blogs. Nobody even cares at all, that this music is more than music, and it tells a story bigger than a fucking thousand bibles, but oh, that Mark, that lunatic, that bragger, that self righteous arrogant little prick bastard, why doesn't he just blow away in the next fucking breeze and take his stupid music with him? Well, you may all get your wish, and just maybe I have a memory where you all are in agony and crying out to me not to do this, only it will be too late, Ernie Merker Foca. When the huge quake hits, I will shed no tears for you, mother fuckers.

 

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