SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0577
TEOHIV/TMCEAM/MORPRO
BLOG
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR:
“THEM
AND ME, FOREVER 180 DEGREES APART”
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2295
SBT-DATFILE:
092912.564
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2012
SWORN
VOLUNTARY OATH TAKEN OF TOTAL TRUTH
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION:
It
is Saturday afternoon in Fort Pierce, for me. It is not Drake Towers
in Philadelphia, Sheriff Mascara kind sir. It is not San Mateo,
California, Sheriff Monks, kind sir, either. Still, this is starting
out as another bad day, with the famous ASTRAL
PLANE TOOL KNOWN AS “PAWM-PIE-ETTOS” from my
WOMO-MILITUFORCE EXPLORATRON BRIGGBASE CULT ENEMIES, here in this
waking world. At exactly one-eleven this afternoon, the door slammer
across the hall woke me out of a sound sleep with a powerful slam,
not at 1:10 or 1:12 or 1:04 or 1:16, no, but at precisely one eleven.
'THAT', kind android Star Trek ROCK, is not the equation; it is not a
coincidence either. The last few days, there are only two or three
real loud slams. It is not an all day and night affair, still; it is
as though they got revenge by doing it at an exact time, so as my not
being able to miss the event; and seeing that horrible time displayed
on a clock. Well it did not work, as my mom always kept clocks five
minutes fast, an absurd habit to keep her from being late, but I have
seemed to have adopted this habit myself, now in my old
age. Tell that to the beach goddess,
as I said, enough continual persecution, and one day OTAMM
will be eternally sorry, not for me, but FOR THEM.
555555555555555555555555555555 will
compensate for that nasty attack on me. Next door is also messing
with me, but it is not too bad. It is all within a more tolerable
range. I thought things were bad when I was working, and now I have
totally figured out, why WOMO ENEMIES hate me working, and making a
little bit of extra pin money. I would be able to go out when things
get real bad around here, and break up the annoyances to a small
degree. Without any money for gasoline to run the car, that is not
only totally impossible; but literally makes it feel like I am in
prison. I sit here day after day, and for six fucking months,
thinking to myself; “Who did I kill, who did I assault, who did I
rob, who did I rape, what did I do; so why am I in mother fucking
dick licking jail? Then I think back further in time, and remember
other times and similar situations, where at other previous times, I
was in the very same sinking boat that I am now in. Then when I would
eventually find some little weekend job somewhere, guarding some
place, pow; the enemies would make me suffer, by pounding me with
endless aerial assault, and also, a lot more shit done to me on the
ground. When I occasionally was able to prove some ground attacks
were real, the police normally insisted on covering it up every time.
How I can relate to the mother fucking poor UFO-answer seeking
people. However, on one big point, I vehemently
DISAGREE WITH THEM, kind Sheriff's,
and L-4, and all others reading me. You see, they in their
blissful ignorance, are actually seeking to
have an abnormal life, by discovering aliens or whatever.
I make no judgments here, other than to draw you all a word picture,
that will endlessly separate ME from any of THEM; those who are
looking to find trouble, whereas ALL I HAVE EVER WANTED WAS TO BE
ABLE TO LIVE A NORMAL AVERAGE LIFE IN THIS WORLD AS MARK WAYNE MOHR,
whether anyone of you chooses to believe me or mother fucking not,
YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! All of my dam life, I try to stay out of
trouble, and I try not to place myself into situations where this
stuff would happen to me as a result. Whereas in contrast, those
others who post videos on YOUTUBE, many I
have now shared with you, my MORIANS, all looking to
expose the government, or make trouble with the so-called airships
that may not belong to the normal waking world airspace system,
exposing secret groups or societies, and on and on. It is as though
they are searching more for trouble
or just perhaps some wild and weird exciting personal life. I don't
say this to anger them, just to tell the truth, which does anger
people unfortunately, and always has. This can lead as far as the
crucifixion of one great religious leader, who the world bases its
entire calendar on today, yet for the most part scoffs at, as they do
me, and why not. We are physically related, & it is all in the
family, Archie Bunker. I did not play down the boss that I had, over
at the Harvest Job through the AARP PROGRAM,
old big-red, AKA Jessica Grant,
who got rid of me, in the middle of last March; and altered my life
in ways, that are beyond unspeakable and deplorable, now forcing me
to live imprisoned. As much as I may have hated that hard physical
job, being a weak person and thus, mostly a security guard all of my
life, it brought in more sustained monies for at least some type of a
life. I am A Huntington, & a blue-blood,
most of us are weak. Most ten year year old children can, and always
could, beat me in an arm wrestle. That is just the way it is,
Dawn-Marie, mighty Highness King queen. In my younger days, I could
go into a gym, and workout, and do wonders with gaining strength in
short term bursts; but then I would totally wear out and give out,
and within three years or so, little girls were pinning me in arm
wrestles, all over again. This is the way I am built as a blue-blood
Huntington. I am what I am, oh great lovely and late, Dawn Marie
King, and as you said so often back when you had me kidnapped
under Stockholm Syndrome in 2008-2009, “It is what
it is”!!!!!!! You see folks, I am not making these things up. I am
merely telling what has happened, who has said what, who has done
what, and then the resulting factor of me, now exiled in a hellish
doom, far from anything I am used to and always knew, all of my life;
stuck in a roach invested place, with roach putrid nabes; and a life
filled with people who hate my guts, and don't give a fucking shit
about me; other than to watch, or to make, me suffer. There was a boy
who was dying of fucking cancer, on television; in the early
springtime of 1983. How I will always remember him. He said, 'when he
meets God, he is going to punch him right in the nose'. I feel the
same way, only I know better. I don't want to end up sucking weeds at
the bottom of Huntington Bay for all eternity, listening to bull
frogs and enemy dudes with strange number signs on their bodies.
WEEEEEEEEEEE, 2008 all over again, give me a break please, Elmer Fudd
sir, thank you kindly. Yes, that huge star, that went super-nova
recently, hmm; I'll bet that was that poor cancer kid making that
horrendous mistake of punching god in the nose back in 1983, quite a
show from Earth and physical reality space-time,
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.
Ann
King sits up there in luxury, after doing all of this to me, watching
and enjoying my 40 inch 5000 dollar
television that I bought at American Appliances, on the
Black Horse Pike in Mount Ephraim, New Jersey, in late 1994. That big
old clunker was one hell of a beauty queen television, and see, it
still works just fine, and after moving to Somerdale, and then to
Guthrie Short's mansion over in Blue Anchor, then Hammonton at the
Trailer Park, and then to the other three Hammonton homes, where Ann
and Dawn moved to, twice with me, and the final time, without me.
Dawn only lasted a year after I left in middle December of 2009, and
passed away, Praise the Lord, on January first in 2011. This is what
people who wipe out my life will all eventually get, whether they
believe it or not. They will pay the ultimate price for destroying my
innocent life. They will get PAYBACK.
So will all the peeps here today down in Fort
Pierce, as no one is immune. The Earthquake struck as I
said it would, and the mother fucking crooked biased Mark Mohr hating
media, totally avoided telling the story; and this was not a tiny
little quake, good folks. I said there was a quake coming, and it
came. You can only access the information by going to GOOGLE, and
requesting 'latest earthquake activity'.
Speaking of quakes, or Quakers, or even famous towns in Pennsylvania;
the mighty Robert McGuire, did in fact tell me back in 1997, just as
the other McGuire jets were roaring over and above us that day
outside of his Erin Bar, on the bottom floor of his Pittsburgh Hotel,
on Tennessee Avenue; that the local family had roots in Pennsylvania,
and that his father built the hotel in 1902. Well Prosecutor ADA
Wirtz Senior, Carlisle is in Pennsylvania, and I was treated like a
dog there, when I drove up there with David Roth, in June, Hubcap
time era, of 1996, Kathy Gatherer, and
so is the first mobile home that I lived in at ages six and seven, up
high on a hill, in the middle of a cornfield, and yes, the lightning
dream was very real, Annie Costner, so why not go do some bodyguard
work on a corpse for all I care, Kev. Still, I had lots of friends at
the Richland School; Jacky Patteroff, Sky Cunesman, Jefferey
Rosenhower, Tommy Coddonodo, Ann Reese, and Bobby Witherspoon, just
to name a few, right Congressman?????????????????????? WEEEEEEEEEEEE,
where is mother fucking cunt lapping Rod Serling, when a man really
needs him right there at his side, YO?????????? What other secrets
does McGuire know besides this latest dig for Hoffa being a total
waste of time, or even bigger secrets of this powerful powerful
powerful awesome family from the stars, here to serve and be cursed,
and even commingle, am I wrong car seller Moroni? Are you still the
10%-ME of the Mars Graphics Printing Shop, old pal? Oh well, suck it
up buddy, that wife of yours was hotter than the sun. If I ever tell
the full story of the psychics, both in 1976 and again in 1996, the
world will understand why it is better to believe that there is no
unnatural order and so-called, 'spirit world'. People can only be so
afraid, and then a human heart will literally destroy itself. Enough
fear will cause a heart no matter how healthy, to explode. Then the
person will die instantly of cardiac arrest and massive heart attack.
Send some flowers Frank Callio, you know where, only you and McGuire
know exactly where, well maybe Trinidad Sat
Sam knows too, but we can save those school bus rides for
other traveling Julia White true stories that go beyond the
permission barrier. I am thinking of doing just such a sequel folks,
“Beyond the Permission Barrier”. If I ever do, and with all names
and places altered, the world will still self destruct. You can think
of it as the 'Gloomy-Sunday' of the book world, only America does not
ban things unless they are advocating government overthrow, or
detailed instructions for becoming a successful terrorist. Why anyone
would want to hurt innocent people, eludes me. I know; as I am hurt
and damaged beyond repair, and I also know that I
am innocent. Some don't think I am, and to them I sadly say,
“GO SCREW YOURSELVES”.
BYE-BYE folks.
55555555555555555555555555555555555555
ENDING
TRANSMISSION:
NOW THIS NEXT BLOG IN NUMBER ORDER REALLY PROVES I KNOW, HUH PATTY?
SAFE
JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0578
WORLD
LABORATORIES OF 2294
SBT-DATFILE:
093012.657-BLUES
COINCIDENCE?
DON'T THINK SO PEEPS.
THE
EPITOME OF HARASSMENT, INTERNET VERSION
THE
MILLIONTH-COUNCIL-EXPLORATRONS AND ME
MORIANITY-PROJECT
CONTINUES FROM 1995 TAPES
BLOG
SUBTITLE NUMBER FOUR, (BSNF):
“OTHER
STUFF CONTINUES FROM 1983 AND 1984 TAPES”
©
MARK WAYNE HATED PATHETIC MOHR 2006-2012
THIS
IS A VOLUNTARILY SWORN OATH OF ABSOLUTE
TRUTHS,
WITHOUT OMISSIONS OR ADDITIONS TO THAT TRUTH; AS BEST AS IT IS KNOWN
TO ME ON THIS DATE AS REFLECTED ABOVE, SO HELP ME FLAG OF THE USA,
AND UNDER MY GREAT GODDESS SARAH-STACEY KRASSLE.
BEGINNING
TRANSMISSION, YO:
I
have powerful stuff to talk about. Also, I am under a heavy aerial
assault today with one of the WOMO-MILITUFORCE
famously used tools of their great carpentry kit of pure evil from
the Astral Plane, the mighty PAWM-PIE-ETTOS.
The day is super BOTBAR, and a lot of
heavy amounts of young goddess type of girls, are all over the place.
I was out getting my prescriptions at the Walgreen's Pharmacy, and
spending my final three and a half dollars, until the 3rd,
and what would have been my mother's 93rd birthday, good
old frikkin September the third. My Dad was one week later on
September the tenth, and my mother used to love to say how she robbed
the cradle. I am not touching this one ladies and gentlemen. Somebody
contacts, in my opinion, all poster's of anything chemtrail-related,
and sends them about four and half billion websites to check out,
showing all of us the error of our ways. He even mentions how Joanie
Mitchel sings a famous song of hers, about them, from 1967. They are
all through the HAIR movie, done in 1979, on the remake of the
original hit New York Broadway theatrical
original performance in 1968, 'HAIR'. I also had Donna
Summer's wild version of this, done as a teenager, long
before she ever did anything else. Now it belongs to the FBI, via the
basement of Agent Steve Caruso, of Austin, Texas. No SPELL CHECKER,
if Ms Mitchel wants to spell her name 'Joanie', that is entirely her
business, but hopefully she'll have enough good common sense back in
time, to stay away from some real lovely folks that her friends like
Dusty, Carlie, and poor paranoid, yeah right, Janis; did not all stay
away from; down in wonderful sweet, and totally mobbed-up ATLANTIC
CITY, NEW JERSEY, USA-ESMWG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now
Carlie falls victim to the error'd ways of the Micro-Sucks
spell-checker computer system also, WEEEEEEEEE, new Bank Trucks, and
fuck you too again, as if I want to fucking say ERROR'D, then that is
what I'll say. You don't own me or my life, you silly ass fucking
computer program, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yeah, watch
out for FIRE MCGUIRE. He loves to also destroy
people's personal property, and tries to kill pets, wreck
automobiles, and even though my credibility is total zero; my kid
does pull a lot of weight, only she does not believe the GREAT
PRINCE, nor me, on the jet issue; or even what happened a
long time ago. Unfortunately, I cannot randomly select what I choose
to uncover, discover; and come to learn as
fact. I disagreed with my mom on this, and never thought
that I would disagree with her granddaughter. Oh well Mayor Levy, who
can know the future? Yeah right, to that one as well, huh your
back-pain honor? No one talks about the OJ
TRIAL, and CNN VIDEO, that day, where some MILITUFORCE
CRAFT, WARPED out of our orbit; as it is all there, and it
really happened. Yes, I had the tape. Now guess who has this tape.
Either the KING's, or the
FIBBIES.
Do
I know why the CHEMTRAIL ATTACK IS SO BAD
TODAY? You can bet your ass that I do, Annie Costner,
bodyguard of the Iowa cornfields. I HAD AN EXTREMELY INCREDIBLE
EXPLORATRONIC INTERACTION right
before awakening at half past ten this morning, another one, what is
this half past ten shit all about, I am left to begin pondering on
quite philosophically, and perhaps even criminally? This also rings
lots of head bells, as things tend to repeat in numbers, and in
events; and on and on I could go on this very wild topic. Ten-thirty
was choke time, on the evening of June 4th
in 1983, where that all began, along with Sabrina Collins, from the
'REAL DARK
SHADOWS SHOW', back when talent was real, and not all
synthesized and copied; and who am I to talk in this great pot and
kettle situation, as many I'm quite sure are asking right about
frikkin now? There also was another half past ten, also at night, on
a Saturday, more than twenty-six years ago. I was with the loveliest
girl I ever met, and ended up never knowing what forces had brought
us together intentionally; and nearly had a fate of my own waiting
for me, called Rikers Island Jail. For non, New Yorkers, there are
many other things on this island, it is not just a jail, just in case
anyone is remotely interested. There is something for me, about ten
thirty, usually at night, but it can be morning as well, so it seems.
In any event, I will tell the wild
exploratronic interaction or as you might call it, wild
vivid DREAM, to you on this blog, but before we do get
into it, I want to discuss a few things that will lead up just ever
so nicely, into all of it. The person leaving me a lifetime of
information to check out regarding the CHEMTRAIL
subject, needs me to say a few things here. For once, I did
successfully reply to your message. Yours was the only one that
worked. When I tried PP, I got all kinds of screens as he is a member
of the AOL-INTERNET, and hard as
I tried, I could not get back to him, SAR knows I tried. I tried
replying to my new friend ADS, and also failed, in fact his entire
comment on the WORDPRESS to me,
vanished, poof, and that was that, fortunately for me, I copied down
the frikkin e-mail address that he has, so I will at least be able to
communicate, once someone ever helps me. Things for me are not
like Mister Knowso can ever imagine, because he is not me,
just as I am not him. He does not think that I know the
history of chemtrails. Most folks until this very year, do
not think these things existed before the nineties, and I of course
know that this is a lot of crap. Not only were both contrails and
chemtrails around before the nineties, and before my problem with
them began, in either the end of November, or the start of December,
in the year of 1987; but in fact; they do show up on many Hollywood
movies, HAIR from 1979 being one of them, and in the song done by JM
in the middle late nineteen-sixties, she is indeed driving through
the Western deserts of the United States, and sees her share of the
very same grid pattern thickening cloud dissipating stuff, that is
shown on the remake of the Broadway Play
HAIR, and before JM sang her song of bedazzlement while
doing some desert driving, there is history far beyond this. I have
in my possession, both a contrail and a chemtrail, during
the CIVIL WAR, Miss KNOWSO
JESSICA GRANT, a descendant of our great General and
later to follow US President, YO. This is because the same things
that have caused the 'REAL GOOD GIRL' (MY) INTRO situation, and the
trip from September 30th in 2008, up to October 31st
in that same year, only a 31 day time travel, but time travel
nonetheless folks, and the 6-9 rooms in a home I never saw ever, and
had no reason to ever see it, owned by Judge
Frank Raso of Hammonton, New Jersey; being shown to me by
the greatest female recording artist on this planet, Mariah Carey;
and the list goes on with literally hundreds of personal real actual
time travel stunts, that somehow are all involved in my life; are
not something that the mighty KNOWSO
Patrick Jane of the MENTALIST television show, or
anyone else sharing the view that there totally is no way that
anything beyond the natural order physical-plane can exist; is a
total fool. What throws off the belief or disbelief, and also causes
age old disputes and down right nasty arguments, is something called
TRANSDIMENSIONAL HYPERSPACE.
This is not understood except for, and by, a handful of top
physicists. It explains why I can go back in time ten minutes and
shoot myself dead, and it has nothing to do with all the so many
other rationalizations made so far, even by the greatest minds of the
scientific community. Time travel, no matter how it is done, even the
so-called trips to the future in fast space ships; is not what people
think at all. You would have to see the reality in pictures. Words
will never do it justice. If you take the video of a car moving down
a street, and this lasts from one o'clock, until one minute past, and
you slow it down, and watch it; this car becomes many cars, and many
time-realities; and all that is happening in or out of so-called
normal or extra-normal travel throughout that minute, is an energy
of mind, transferring from instants to instants, in a very very
miniscule kind of a time fraction. As this MIND-ENERGY is moving by
way of its very nature of its own existence as a sent signal from the
sixth dimension, down into all of the 5th dimensional
lower hyperspace parallel universes, a lot of things are happening,
that 21st century science is only starting to wrap their
frikkin heads around at the top think tank and physics lab level. In
the early 22 hundreds, the accepted reality of 'SPACE-TIME-MIND'
becomes understood, and this alters life on
'Planet Earth' beyond a million times that of the wheel,
or fire, or even prostitution; if I can be allowed a little
lightening of the load here, with some attempted humor, good peeps.
We can get back to all of this and more, at later times. For now, the
chemtrail topic is indeed complex,
and it has nothing to do with any one thing, and anyone who believes
that something so big as this, can really be such a mono-topic, is
kidding themselves. Without these chemtrails, it is difficult to use
'STM' as efficiently, so they are placed all over everywhere, and
until the nineties came in, folks were literally in their own zones a
lot more, but they were all over the place, just less in the
eighties, and less still before the eighties, but they
WERE THERE; and I do know the history of them, and need
not be reminded of this by any so-called all-knowing folks. This is
all very personal for me, and I don't expect to be believed on face
value when I make that claim, as why should a nobody be? I get it, I
am not a frikkin moron. Now I want to talk to my new pal ADS, as the
next paragraph starts; and this will then work to automatically
dovetail into the powerful 'DREAM' from
early this morning before my awakening to start this
BOTBAR last day of the month, and many of my followers, know about
MAGNETIC PERCENTAGE and using it
against me by the evil vicious WOMO since 1986, just as they also use
ICPE/PARALELL EVENT, ALL BRINGING
ME TO ENDLESSLY SUFFER WITH THIS EVIL TRILOGY OF THE PHILLIES,
FLYERS, DOW JONES DEAL!!!!!!!!
Since
I am no good with computers, I lost your comment, and you can re-ask
me and I will answer, but for now; I hope you read, and are trying
using, the great mystical powerful FASCITAR
TOOL, that I explained to you, and the rest of Morianity,
and not for the first time, on a near recent blogging text. The
Fascitar can take you into a connection with
the sixth dimension, placing your energetic awareness
onto the ASTRAL-PLANE, where you
can simply create an interaction, and by merely thinking anything, it
is just all around you, as you are merged instantly into what you are
thinking, and the illusion of a space and a
time dimension are created right along with you as you do
this. This is the total opposite of waking world life, where first we
appear to totally need space and time, in order to then make an
interaction, or even have a body that powers a brain, that is able to
generate 'THOUGHT'. This is why the PHYSICAL and the ASTRAL are
planes that will never be able to be merged. They are as far away
from each other as anything can theoretically ever be, but not in
time, and not in distance, but in TRUTH. I do not say that because of
this, that truth is a dimension, however it almost is. The zero
dimensional void infinity IS TRUTH,
and that truth is a LACK OF ALL DIMENSION. How
can anything really be real? How can things be created
when there is just void, nothing? They CANNOT BE. However, we can,
and do, learn to successfully DREAM OUT AND
AWAY FROM THAT VOID LACK OF DIMENSIONAL TRUTH, and onto
the lower ASTRAL PLANE, where from there, we
further DREAM DOWN into physical material waking worlds,
or the fifth dimensional hyperspace, that contains virtually endless
and countless '4-D' parallel-universes, such as the one right here,
where I am typing this message, and you are reading it. Well, we
believe we are, when in TRUTH, we are always
simply EXISTING at the void, or ZERO-D, and dreaming out
and away from that, and into all of this, as
nothing of this is real,
but it is one hell of an illusion,
or a DREAM.
Here
is what I was interacting with in my thoughts, that were seemingly
more real than any day or night in so-called waking life, that I can
remember. To begin, I found myself on Tennessee Avenue, in Atlantic
City; and for a brief moment, the same dream or whatever, that I was
interacting in back on the morning of the
7th
of December of 1996; where the great Mary Tyler Moore was
wearing her famous green dress and standing on a non existing balcony
at the Trinidad Hotel, facing the street, as no balcony ever faced
the street, only the pool and then the street or just the pool, but
here in this experience, there were rooms facing the King
Parking Lot and
McGuire's Hotel and Erin Bar, and
balconies; and I had not yet met McGuire, nor had I even spoken with
Misses Estelle Bassler. That all came some time in February and March
of the following year of 1997, the year my mom fell
savagely victim to almost a voo-doo curse type of unknown outlandish
medical condition. We can get into that a lot more, at other future
times, and blogs. The scene quickly turned to where I was up on the
boardwalk at the Frailenger Salt Water Taffy Store, where in waking
life, I spent many many times inside of, throughout my younger life.
Suddenly, the GREAT SARAH-STACEY JEHOVAH
KRASSLE was just standing there, and we began talking as
though the two of us had normal routine conversations there, every
single day. I even remember thinking of my life, and not realizing I
was 'dreaming', and thinking to myself, while we were talking; “Why
does this feel so normal and every-day usual to me, just thinking
nothing of talking to, and being with, the most beautiful giant
teenager in the multiverse, like it's nothing? Then we
walked down to HER lovely shop where she told me to run up
and down the street calling her name,
and so I did this. Suddenly she and I were eleven years old, and it
was the summer of 1966. I was wondering why my left wrist hurt me,
and was all bandaged up. I then remembered that it was about six
weeks earlier, when Bruce Walter, in Westmont, New Jersey, had
chased me inside of my apartment, at 125-A, Haddon Hills;
with a hellish tasting concoction; that he had made in my mom's
kitchen, and was going to force me to drink, because
I would not stop cursing so badly. Sarah then walked with
me to her upstairs area above the great shop, that Misses Bassler
kept insisting was not where I know it was back in time, when I would
speak to her often from my Somerdale home throughout most of 1997,
after learning she no longer lived after 1974, at 30 South Plaza
Place, in South Atlantic City, New Jersey;
but instead had moved down to Northern
Florida, to Ormond Beach; a place I would come to visit a
dozen years in the future, on my drive down
from Cifaloglio to Fort
Pierce, in December of 2009.
The minute I saw the area, I remembered it from countless recurring
and repeating very vivid dreams, but this is just an added
foot note, and we need now to go back to the point that is discussing
this wild vivid dream of just this very morning. I swear this all
happened in this powerful dream, so if anyone does not want to hear
some powerful truth, maybe now is a good time to move over and read
the blogs of Martha P. Hallaway, and Her Rare French Gold and Silver
Coins Collection, or perhaps you might try the blogs of Donnie D.
Dillinger, and his Life as a Florida Keys Painter; but if you remain
here, you will hear some stuff, and what you hear may shock you a
little. Hay, maybe you'll just yawn and say, there goes Mountainpen,
as usual, honey; pass me another biscuit, and another cup of tea; and
definitely one for my pal, Patrick Jane, the disbeliever. But before
I march things right along here, I owe some peeps an apology for my
stupidity, and I will admit that when I am wrong and I get all spaced
out over something, that indeed, I was; and will gladly say how very
sorry I am, for being a dick head. Please accept my frikkin apology.
I came to learn just this very day, and hour, that nobody
hacked into my YOUTUBE ACCOUNT. This is just a random tool
button that pops up on videos here and there, so people can make them
better by improving the lighting or color, and what have you; as most
things on the 'YT' are photographs, and moving images; where this
would all pertain to. I am sorry for going off and getting pissed
over nothing. What a dork I am, DUH!!!!!!! Just now, I'm back from a
two hour break. I ate dinner, and saw the local and world news. It
seems that Texas had a little rumble all its own yesterday, a small
quake. If you don't want too many nasty aftershocks, please back off
this persecution, thank you, dick head twat chewers. Now back to my
pal, and my continuing message to ADS. It is now 835 millidays,
today, the 30th and final day of September. The fourth
quarter of 2012 is just a tad bit more than four hours away. As I
said, I will try and tell my pal, if he is listening, on the BLOGGER
site, as I don't regularly post on any other site now, as this one
brings the most accurate re-creation of my word document to the
viewer. If this blog is appearing on any non blogger-dot-com website,
and you are not reading it clearly, or the printed text appears to be
crushed together, then revisit me where each post is put up in clear
and ordered sequence, by clicking this following web-address:
http://www.theansweristheqyuestioncontinues.blogspot.com/
and you will be able to see things much better, maybe not my
message, but at least the printed words that make it up. Now, I will
try answering what question I think you asked me, in fact, I think
you already read my other message, and it may have inadvertently
caused me to remember an Astral Plane experience, as remember good
friend, they are not existing in a time continuum there, and we are
here; so when you think that you are remembering any altered state of
conscious thoughts and events, it has no time order referenced to you
at the moment that you are remembering it. When you wake up and say,
wow, what a dream, you did not just have a dream, nor are you just
now remembering this. All things exist in void, later being dreamed
down into the Astrality of existence, a starry and lighter realm.
Then later, we dream down further into all of these 'human dreams of
caporial tangible material life' that we call real or physical,
totally in error, as reversing the truth just about always will equal
or become a large majority of it. We see the Earth or any world we
would be on as a flat surface. We see the sun going around us by
rising in the east and setting in the west. It seems that it is quite
normal that most things whether it be intentional or accidental, are
all tricking our senses through some kind of reversal mechanism. If
you could reverse the so-called smart money moves, all of them, on
the stock market; and be wealthy enough to ride out the temporary
swings against your positions; you would always win, and make the
biggest money. Everyone in a majority, guesses wrong. Reversing the
majority concept is always going to contain more of the truth and
accuracy of any item that's possible. Now, I believe that you wanted
to know if a shared dreaming experience in the hyperspace, or down
here in these parallel universes of waking world physicality; would
effect, or be able to effect the Astral. The answer is always
NO. All things are first real and true in the void. Then
in the Phase-2, they are always most real and ahead of anything
dreamed down from there onto 3rd lower planes or realms, such as
waking world 5th dimensional hyperspace. All that can
happen in a reverse direction, is exactly what I think just happened,
only I have yet to tell it; that is, my powerful full EXPLORATRONIC
INTERACTION OF THIS MORNING, with SSJKK, the All
Mighty Goddess. I believe that because you and I have made
contact on this computer, my friend ADS, this has happened. Still,
until I totally know you, and we talk on e-mail, which will be coming
to pass if indeed one of two possible things is the reality of this
situation; as since I cannot undo the accidental erasure of your
comment while attempting to reply to it, only the date would help me
in making up my mind or ruling one thing out, as if it is back this
spring, and only because of coinciding initials to something, it
would make one huge thing a possibility and in the quanta waves, only
finding out that you are not the person I think this could be or have
been actually, then we will eliminate one thing, and as the Quantum
Physicists say so well, the half alive and half dead cat will be
caught, and no longer in the state of quantum
flux. Either way, reality is reality. If you are still
with me, alive, and reading this, and were thinking about the message
that I just printed a couple days ago for you, then either way would
explain what I used to call, the RPLDD,
that we need not really fully examine right now. We will speak at
more lengths about all this on future blogs, and I want to see if you
have an active e-mail account. A lot of peeps tend to simply vanish
out of existence, when they communicate with me; one way or the
other. The main thing is not to fear these
Shadows from hell, as their food and sustenance IS
OUR FEAR. If we starve these monsters, they weaken,
and even go away in time. If we feed them with our fear and give them
glory, even as biblically spoken in scripture teachings and
principles, especially in the religion and faith called,
Christianity; then THEY TAKE HOLD
and then THEY GAIN VICTORY OVER US,
and only then, my friend. Now, since this still pertains to ADS, let
me tell the rest of this powerful “DREAM” that woke me at 10:30
this morning with quite a bouncing
bang!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I told how SHE told me to run up
and down the street calling HER name, and how we ended up in the
upstairs area above the Tennessee Avenue shop. SHE wanted me to open
up the middle dresser drawer of a three drawer dresser, and I did,
the very same one I had for many years and kept my own clothes in as
a youth and even as an adult, and did not lose this piece of
furniture until early-middle 1994, when I moved into the Highview
Apartments, in Williamstown, New Jersey on April the first in 1994.
When I opened this up, a large motorcycle chain was not inside this
drawer, as I had totally expected it to be. Then SSJKK turned to me,
as the eleven year old SARAH, who I knew from the middle sixties, and
told me that SHE wanted the chain to be there, that I had it up in
the future, and SHE went onto remind me of my two organizational
'mentor big brothers' that I had had, Fredrick Hinger from the
Philharmonic, and later, John Henningsen from the Campbell's Soup
Company. She told me that John, the second BIG BROTHER, would be
giving me this chain, and that I needed to keep my strongbox unlocked
on an exact date, when December of 1969 rolls around. I have no
memory of any of this in my so-called real or waking (life). I only
remember the chain being in this strongbox, and then always locking
it, as it also contained something that was not for my mother's eyes,
or any other nosy person who just might be poking around while I was
not home at the Dellway Arms Apartments, and was off at school. All I
remember in waking life is the powerful
DREAM where SARAH took the chain away on a beach, and then
placed it into her middle dresser drawer, above HER shop, in that
upstairs area. SHE seems to have some kind of affinity with “UPPER
ROOMS”, and then remember, MISTER KNOWSO know-it-all,
that the very next day, was the day that I got onto the school bus to
go to school, and suddenly, there was a gigantic three criss crossed
perfectly angled CHEMTRAIL, that
spread out all over the skies above Camden County, New Jersey, that
early winter and early December day morning,
back in 1969. This was not some ride through the desert,
nor was this some, DREAM, as
others refer to things in reverse. Still, and trying to stick to the
point here, in the experience that I seemingly had this morning, by
my reference to waking world time illusion, here is what frikkin
played out, my pal, or well, until the cat is out of quantum flux,
this is a non touchable subject, who knows? I suddenly remember a lot
of haze, and trying to focus my eyes, that worked just fine until
this haze just came suddenly bursting out of nowhere; and onto this
'dream-scene'. I found myself taking the chain in 1969, and bringing
it to SSJKK, now back in HER true form as the six foot seven inch
goddess from SAHASRA DAL KANWAL,
HER great city, that in some ways mirror images Atlantic City, as
though Atlantic City is some shrunken down incredibly miniaturized
version of the 'real' thing. SSJKK smiled at me and placed it into
her middle drawer, and told me that SHE will sing my favorite song to
me now, called, “Love Is For Carpenters”. I fell dead asleep in
my own 'dream' right in HER arms. The next thing I knew, I was
putting on the best clothes that I had, a nice suit that was given to
me through the AARP Program and the man Trevor Watkins, who was my
overseer there, and who had some kind of connections with the local
area Salvation Army Store. I put on these really nice clothes, and
drove in my car to an area like I never saw in my life. It was half
inside and half outside, of something. It was, and it wasn't, all at
the same time. Even for me, like wow, this was totally off the wall
frikkin' weird. Then, I sat down on some bleachers, about midway up
on them, at the left end of them, when they are facing me head on.
There were no other bleachers, yet they were on the left side of
something, of what I just cannot pull up. Suddenly a limo drove up,
and Mariah Carey, the great recording artist; got out with a man,
some white dude about thirty to forty, with average build and height,
medium length hair for the styles of men today, brownish color, that
was slightly balding; and was dressed immaculately, as was MC. She
was wearing the huge motorcycle chain around her neck in a triple
loop, and she sounded more like a house pet than a person when she
walked over towards me, as a result. We talked, and it was as though
we had met here and talked on many occasions. I remember thinking,
why is this so normal to be with the greatest singer on the planet,
as though this happened all the time? Then she asked me if I wanted
to hear “the song”. I said of course I did, not knowing what was
going on. Then she sang it to me, with her beyond beautiful voice. It
was not a tune I recognized from anywhere in this world at any time,
not even remotely. When this was done, she took off the chain and
asked me if I wanted to wear it for a while. I was scared, and told
her that SHE is the All Mighty Goddess, and that I had no business to
ever wear HER great chain. She laughed softly, and told me that this
chain is a lot more than I have come to yet figure out. Then she
touched it, and instantly it became a smaller more normal sized chain
made of beautiful topaz and diamonds, huge rocks an inch thick that
had weird shapes, and were all connected by this solid silver but
now, quite thin chain. I noticed a medallion on it at the bottom, and
on it read 'I AM 231'. Then the next thing I knew, I was awake back
here in this very room, and it was about 10:30 AM, give or take a
minute or two. I have not had this powerful an interaction with the
All Mighty Goddess, in I do not remember how long, 2008 sometime or
there about. This was the time they all began, and just kept coming,
up through the Shop Rite purple highlights
in the hair dream that is on my blogs. Anyway, for now
this is enough about this powerful 'DREAM'.
In
closing for the night, my nabes are noisy, lots of doors, lots of
activity, but nothing real super bad or loud, as though they know the
limits, and know that they are being watched.
Very
interesting things are happening all around both me, and those around
me, and all over the area; but I am just keeping my mouth shut for
right now. Mexico may be just a short time away, and then again, I
may not go there for five thousand frikkin years. That's on me,
ZEEEEE.
ENDING
TRANSMISSION, YO:
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