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SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER DCXI
SUPPLENMENTAL
ENTRY
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
Ladies
and gentlemen, I began my blogs in early middle 2006 at one blog
website, www.blogger.com/ and
nowhere else.
From
the start, I was nervous and quite emotionally ambivalent about
telling my life directly to some unknown internet audience. But I
braved up and did what I felt at the time, was to pursue the best
course of action for me at the time with all of my many personal
things all considered and factored into a complicated equation of a
sort.
After
my blogs started, I was totally fixated on what was in my life at
that time at the middle of the first decade of the 21st
century, finding SARAH, I had by no means given up. The
problem that some of the smarter folks now are totally aware of, is
that first off, I never lost Sarah, and secondly, she did not seem to
have a lot of good feelings towards me. As time went on, between
carefully putting many dots together and analyzing dozens of
extremely wild outlandish dreaming experiences, the first thoughts of
my days right after I no longer saw Sarah on 10-SC Avenue anymore but
was visiting my relatives up in Babylon, New
York. Eventually the dog walking road trip was made
clearer to me and I began to realize that many things had happened
and that I had been suppressing the memory.
A
very long story made short as humanly possible folks, one thing would
lead to another and another, and then would come a powerful dream,
then more analyzing followed by more dot connecting, and then ever
more dreams. I still am far from understanding the mind of GODDESS,
or SCYLLA, or whatever anyone anywhere feels compelled to call this
entity of unlimited power and awareness, to name as per their faith,
or lack of it in the case of non-believers in the world of the
'spirit'. We just will not touch this right now, in the interest of a
very short blog. I just want to say that Voodoo Priest Wilson Jessup
from the Edison, New Jersey area, along with other things and other
folks around the times of 1965 and 1966, right as I was led into my
early days of seeing SARAH for the first time in Atlantic City on her
great street, 10-SC Avenue, along with about eighty-three million
other things such as my pal Salvador Ventura, who without him I would
never had been able to speak to my Lightning Goddess, he was totally
instrumental in many things that again, we need not explore at this
exact moment of time. Do I believe despite common names such as not
being Nardatoochio, or Palmakatoddlio, or Steelgansana, you get the
drift folks; I just believe deep down in my heart of hearts, that
Wilson is not that far in genealogical lineage from the great Carlos
Allende of the US Naval Philadelphia Experiment who my father
secretly did indeed participate in and had horrible wild nightmares
according to my mom, during the first five to ten years of their
married life. I do not believe
either, that Salvador is not geologically somewhat within a few
cousins out, from the mighty wresting governor. All these things did
not just happen to a poor pathetic boy, or a real good girl. My quick
point is that I may have to shortly do something that will get me
placed for the rest of life in prison, as I cannot go on
conventionally fighting this WOMO shit, it just is not working, and
so what else is left when a ll conventional warfare is useless
against an enemy, other than stepping it up to full scale NUKE OUT?
Let
me tell you and Derrijo from Dees Exxon, just what is hoppening right
now before I close this out, and crash into more nightfuckingmares. I
reconnected the broken cable-TV box into the system, and things this
time seem to work at least for operating my DVD and VCR. So when I'm
mother fucking ready Monday afternoon, to go and return it for a
replacement box, then I'll disconnect it, as I'm not sitting here all
week fucking cunt end with no video, and no nothing, as Diana Ross
says it so great and angrily, back in 1983, that day when she called
me up, and I thought she was going to chain react on me.
Yes,
a little ingenuity, and at least, dead as the fucking cable box is, I
still have Sunday movies via my tapes on VHS and my DVD's. It is not
good, but I'll have to make cunt lapping do. I wanted to keep up with
the news and weather with Hurricane Sandy now I must wait until late
Monday afternoon when I get the new box, bring it home, and connect
it up the same way the other box was hooked up.
People,
it really is not one bit right or fair, and if anyone alive could say
the magic words, and end all of this entire world, POW, just like
that; I would be so eternally
grateful to you. This
goddess Jehovah is one huge royal fucking pain
in my ass, and she has always been chasing after me, and acting
ridiculous, never ever wanting a normal contact between us, yet
messing with me continually and without relent, even cleverly letting
me know by using my song from 1983,
GITYA, 14 years later in that opening,
that there is no escape for me. Ever since I was dumb enough to load
in her disc back in Mullica, New Jersey, my life went from hell to
something that no word can ever describe. Saying hell cubed or hell
times a billion or all of that silly childish shit is just a waste of
mother fucking time.
Look,
I blocked stuff out, the rape, the road-trip on the island, the
hook-up, the song I wrote that was not very nice, and on I could go.
Show me how to make things right MC, and I will, but if that is not
what you want, then all I ask is please stop picking on me. This is
beyond ridiculous, even for
an endless sixteen year old!
It is so ashame, as on the Astral Plane, you treasure your THAT-BOY,
and he treasures you. This nightmare crap down here in waking life is
so horrible, I would rather be in fucking jail the rest of my dam
life than go on like this. In a few days, if you want to keep hurting
me and harassing me, MY, you will have to find me down
in freaking MAY HE CO as that is where I will be
for the next 10,000 years, I've had it 100000% with these games and
with this bullshit. Your secrets are safe with me, great educator, oh
those far away constellations, that's all safely locked away too,
along with the miners and the gold and the crazy's, MY. It is past
me' ol' bedtime folks, yarrr!
You'll
still get the treasure charts, I promise.
*****END
OF BLOG.*****
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