THERE
IS NO WAY THAT TOM REALE, IN JULY OF 1970, WOULD HAVE BEEN THAT
UPSET, BACK ON THE NIGHT OF THE FIREWORKS; UNLESS HE WAS A
GIGANTIC POWERFUL MEMBER, OF THE EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY!
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FUCK
THE ESS, CHAPTER 1
When
I stayed down at Tom Reale's Cornwall Avenue house in the summer
of 1970, it was the first quarter of the calendar season. He
picked me up at the same place my chain was stolen from in the
Oaklyn New Jersey apartment house I resided at, one night late in
June. He answered an ad that I had placed in the situations-wanted
section of the Press of Atlantic City a number of months back
before this time. It was all a huge set up. But a lot more was
also. Every singe thing about Atlantic City was a gigantic set up,
and even though ten thousand years ago, our history shows Abseacon
Island with no information at all, this is not what happened.
History is flawed and those who believe in it and take it too
seriously, are plain fucking stupid.
I
have begun this new blog book, even though I thought the last one
would absolutely end Morianity forever. We are all human and not
perfect, just as the great Bruce Pennock said so ofter back at
Cooley Hall, as well as over at his house on Beaver Drive, in
Barrington, New Jersey, so often back in th e 1970's. I don't
trust a soul. I don't trust anyone who reads this blog either. I
am in a very difficult position. You can hate my guts if that
makes you feel any better, but I cannot afford the luxury of
trust. And I trust no one at all.
As
stated earlier, the ESS works two ways. There are all of us awake
in the universe where we have our bodies, and from this point,
endless possibilities of traveling exploratrons find their way to
us, and become a part of us, in a way that the bible sort of
tries to get into even though words fail to allow a real tangible
mental way of explaining it, but it talks about a holy spirit part
of all mighty god that indwells those who believe and play the
game of Salvation. Oh God as you call 'HIM' takes it seriously
enough, that's for sure. But it is not the way things really are.
Now while awake, we are bombarded with as many exploratrons all
invisibly around us than we are with solar radiation particles. We
are never really in-between anything, not in dreams and not awake.
Time goes at a rate of about 400 pieces each hour. These pieces or
'instants' go by very quickly and we are set at this speed of
conscious awareness. Those who travel from their universes in
their dreams, to us here, search for a connection. They are just
hyperspace energy until they find a connection. When one jumps
inside of you or me, that is the connection. We in this universe
also have had a few travelers. To name a few, Nostradamus,
Shakespeare, Jesus, Paul Twitchell, Harold Klemp, Mohammad,
Buddha, you get the idea. They go to the universes of these
travelers, and when they go, they are awake in their universe, and
you are the one that is just hyperspace energy that is searching
to make a connection. I have nothing against the process of
cosmos or what goes down on the Astral realm or the Plank, not in
and of itself. But I do hate some entities who have gone out of
their way to put me in hell, Adam Dee-Dee Schiff without the
Central Pier, or goddess help me, any mail related stuff. I cannot
help seeing the powerful symbolic shit with the word mail as in
male. Trying to educate regular readers is a complete waste of my
time. When people working in medical offices with college degrees,
ask me what Wall Street is, well; that told me some fucking really
huge shit back on Wednesday.
FEBRUARY
5, 2015,
THURSDAY
NIGHT AT 8:37,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE, 61 DEGREES FNHT.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
The
world is an amazing place.
FORT
PIERCE, FLORIDA, UNITED STATES.
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR BLOGS 2006-2015.
No,
I had a really cool little website up almost a decade ago, until
Katie and I ran out of funds. Now we both seem to be fucking
swimming aimlessly about. Where will it all end, Leticia Tilley,
hey girl? I can feel your disease and yes, one and one and one
really is three, just as your pals said it was back in th elate
fucking sixties, buddy. That doesn't mean Kate and I aren't broke.
Also, we got really big time ripped off by industry mother fuckers
back earlier this millennium. That what I get for pulling a Radio
Shack Dewitt all over again.
Yes
I do think that I was mistaken back in god dam August of 1986,
when I said that I was the greatest fish in the bay. I love you
Katherine.
COURTESY
OF THE WEATHER BUG.
Weather
Map is courtesy of CHANNEL 12 local South Florida
Television.
Note:
The image above may not reflect the current alert state for your
county due to a several minute delay between the issuance of the
alert and the map processing.
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Well, what these assholes may or may not know, is
that I am going to lose some of my ESS people who ain't doing me one
bit of good. I am going to have me' ol' Staples guru, the new guy,
over here, to assist me in networking and marketing strategies. If
the enemies will not allow me to get my message out by way of
computer, I will make a video of something so major it will make
anything I ever did in 60 years so far as the current life me, look
like a small fart!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There
are some things that need to be said and told, and not to the ESS who
already knows ten times what I know, about all of this, and just
laugh and jeer at my fuckiGN futile attempts that they endlessly
obstruct and confound!!!!!!!!!!!!!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW!
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