I
AM UNDER ATTACK ON THIS HELLIDAY-HOLIDAY,
SHERIFF KENNETH J. MASCARA SIR, OF THIS GREAT WONDERFUL
AWESOME FLORIDA COUNTY OF SAINT LUCIE!!!!!!!!! Of course kind sir,
WEIN-SOSO-SSDD, oh wonderful great sir????????????????????
Doors
have been going all day but not slamming, a fire alarm woke me up at
just past seven this morning, and last night it
all began with that ever fucking totally dependable phone-assault,
where some illegal bastard defies the laws of this land, calling my
cellphone number on my little Assurance-wireless government phone
system, at approximately a quarter hour
shy of mother fucking twelve
midnight, yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo, and when this happens, THE FOLLOWING
FUCKING DAY IS ALWAYS QUITE NASTY,
every single solitary time, and there is absolutely no way
that this can be in my imagination, and the endless impersonal DLS
mathematics backs me up, oh wonderful great Misses
CHHH Marola from the mighty half century ago year of
1969!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
But the big attack is the UTILITY ASSAULT, SIR
SHERIFF KJM, ME BRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! These illegal fucking
persecuting MILITUFORCE
HACKERS broke into my
COMCAST
ACCOUNT, and
they froze up my reboot signal where my TV system reboots
for updates each daily cycle, and this time, when I went to turn on
my television around 3 this afternoon, the WELCOME-WELCOME-WELCOME
display was frozen onto the screen and
there was audio, but no video reception could be realized,
because this hack somehow blocked it. I was forced to unplug and plug
the system back in to do another reboot-update, and this time, it was
okay. I will be calling and complaining to
COMCAST tomorrow
sir Sheriff KJM, if this
happens to me again, and you can bet on that, or as the
great Ward Cleaver might say back in the golden days
before all of this MILITFUORCE nightmare
was ever even conceived, “YOU CAN BETTER
BET”!!!!!!!!!! As I speak-type right now at 4:47 this
MONDAY-HELLIDAY-HOLIDAY disafsternoon, some jerk off is screwing with
my computer AGAIN, making all sorts of weird annoying fucking cunt
things occur when I attempt to do this mother fucking blog, me
BRAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This fucking cum-kuke-her is
trying to do something and this causes this horse shit to happen, as
my little icon question mark keeps flashing at the lower part of my
monitor screen. Wow is my mother fucking life an endless hell, THANKS
TO THE HORRENDOUS MILITFUORCE, SHERIFF SIR!!!
3:55
P.M., May 27, 2019, Monday
Afternoon
ETERNAL
JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER MARK MUD
SECTION----T
please
do not include me in your Jonah collection, my
endless lovely Teen-Queen. I
will discuss my father,
both his visit in 1974 that initially began all kinds of wild shit
manifesting itself around my life, and then after his death in 1981,
and the real hell after that or second phase, beginning with the
Playboy Bunny at Robin Hill Apartment Number 1802,
forcing me and my mom to move out and into Atco, New Jersey, and then
from there, it
was TWILIGHT ZONE TOWNSHIP, from that moment on,
right up through the very present times. You all know I speak the
truth. The same force behind everything, the Bible calls this the
devil and SATAN, and the AAT folks call this the space aliens, but
Mister
Shakespeare said long ago, “What's in a name”?
It's what is being told that matters, and shit smells like shit and
roses smell like roses, even if we wish to reverse the names of these
two items. It was never me, it always 'THEM',
the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE,
who damn-ass else for crissake, yo????????????????
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
WORST DAY OF MY ENTIRE LIFE, POLICE, HEADING OVER TO YOU
I
have been retraced by the wonderful Donna
Adrian Gaines Summer from up in the end
of the 23 hundreds, where I retraced her first, as
Labber
Zeejins, from my station
at the World Laboratories of Westmont, New Jersey, DPAESMWG, and
later showed her 2 much of the technology, and she has been
relentlessly using it to retaliate against me, and this is a large
part of what I am going through. STILL ME PEEPS OUT HERE, as well as
SIR NG-ADS, I am not even beginning to tell the details of how the
future lab in Westmont, New Jersey, truly fits into the hell of right
now, and how I began remembering all of this in the year 1988 around
the end of the winter time, shortly after
copyrighting my 'EPITOME OF HARASSMENT,
DANCIN' IN THE OCEAN' musical project, right after
Valentine's Day. I bring these topics up
again as they all will absolutely dovetail into the bullshit that
will be blogged right now, today, May 7, 2019,
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo, wonderful SHERIFF
KENNETH J. MASCARA, SIR!!!!!!!!!!
Yes, I will on
discussing these details that led to the government placing me on
disability in the year of 1994. But first, more apropos things from
right
now on this MEMORIAL
DAY
HELLIDAY need
addressing. Then we can and we will, proceed on, yo me
bro!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tom
Glenn put me onto the fabulous world of opera. Before that, I used to
hear my Aunt Barbara sing it and never liked it. But Tom Glenn knew a
lot of things that I didn't know, besides the world being in need of
a brand new FIRE-SONG from SSJKK's poor
old FIREDOG, YANCY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AGENT
CONDOR
AND AGENT
FALCON
MADE A POWERFUL STATEMENT TO THE WPIX
DOCUMENTARY NARRATORS AND CREATORS,
THEY TOLD WHEN PEOPLE FOUND SOME OF THE
REAL NON-HOAX UFO RELATED STUFF
AND CAPTURED IT ON FILM, THE
AIR FORCE AND SECRET BLACK OPS ALPHABET SOUP AGENCIES
MADE IMMEDIATE CONTACT WITH THEM, AND DEMANDED
THE FILMS
AND
PHOTOS BACK,
AND THEN WENT ONTO TELL THEM THAT IF
THEY EVER OPENED UP THEIR MOUTH AND TOLD ABOUT ANY OF IT, THAT THEY
WOULD NEVER
HAVE
A
MOMENT'S
PEACE
FOR
THE REST OF THEIR LIFE.
THIS ALL AIRED AS FACTS, ON THE WPIX, NEW YOUR CITY, NEW YORK,
CHANNEL ELEVEN, TELEVISION STATION DOCUMENTARY, IN 1988, WHILE I WAS
LIVING IN MOORESTOWN, NEW JERSEY, at 114 West Central Avenue. Munikay
munikay code two code two, munikay code two. WOW THIS sir
Chester-Frank. I suppose that we all know who we are, OR DO WE
REALLY????
The
great Billy
Harner
the human percolator told me at his Haddon
Avenue barber shop, not beauty shop, but yes, when all
of these shows were happening in real-'regular'
time, NOT TO LIVE WIH
ANYONE, but to, and I fucking quote him totally ass verbatim
here, “Stay by yourself Mark”;
only I did not listen to his
wonderful great advice. As I speak, another horrible
fucking death angel attack is striking me, and these have been bad
again over the past several days, sheriff, and all because YESTERDAY,
I SUFFERED A MAJOR ASSAULT ON ME
BY THE MOTHER FUCKING WOMO-MILITUFORCE, WHO ELSE, YO YO YO YO
YO ME BRO?????????? But
warning or no, I did move in with these WASHCLOTHS
FROM HELL AND 1970,
and W---O---W, again, there was another place from where I can swear
in any court on this planet and not worry about being fucking charged
with perjury; that things went poof and bang in the night and again,
there is no return.
|
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ETERNAL
JOURNAL OF SONGWRITER
MARK
MUD------T
Public Catalog
Copyright
Catalog (1978 to present)
©
MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN HUNTINGTON MOHR, 2006-2019, THE
BOM
Oh
yes peeps, I TOTALLY KNEW THAT I WOULD BE PUNISHED FOR HARPING ON AND
ON ABOUT MIND
CONTROL,
and guess what Sheriff KJM sir, this was quick and fast and super
hard pounding enemy retaliation! YES, I
FELL UNDER ANOTHER NASTYASS
DEATH
ATTACK
ON THE GODDAMN TWENTY-SEVENTH DAY IN MAY,
OF
THIS HORRENDOUS ASS YEAR OF TWENTY-NINETEEN;
absolutely mother frikkin' brutal pummeling hell was applied
against me,
against
my health,
against
me with noise,
and against
me with some more nasty video cut out assaults
on my PUSSY
CHEWING
CIVIL
LIBERTIES,
OR LACK OF THEM, DESPITE MY BEING A LEGALLY
BORN
AND FREE CITIZEN OF THESE ALMIGHTY
DIVIDED PARTIES OF AMERICA (DPA)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AND NO LONGER THE USA,
YO YO YO YO YO!!!! Would it really matter if this was any day of the
decade, Sheriff sir, as it just keeps going and going and going like
a Duracell Coppertop fucking battery?
<link
href='https://www.blogger.com/dyn-css/authorization.css?targetBlogID=2872360980987997396&zx=76d9d6ca-5432-41c7-a01e-53e908f96a61'
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©
1983 Mark Wayne Mohr, private electronic-metaphysics program.
MMMMMMMMMMMMMAGNESONIC:
Computer,
hear my MVP (Mind-Voice-Print). You will be totally absolutely
crushing, obliterating, annihilating, and devastating, wrecking,
ruining, and utterly wiping out, all of my enemies that are viciously
persecuting me
ON
MAY
27,
2019, WITH
MAX-POWER AGAINST ALL
PERSONS AND FORCES BEHIND THIS
ASSAULT ON ME, CAUSING ME A MAJOR
HEALTH
CRISIS, MAJOR
HORRENDOUS UTILITY AND PROPERTY PERSECUTION, ATTACKS IN MY
SURROUNDING NEIGHBORHOOD, AND IN
MY RESIDENCE BUILDING AND TOWN, AND AGAINST
MY PROPERTIES AND UTILITIES; on a crush-destruct
order, under GENERAL-ORDER-189,
max.-power.
Open-Command, General Order #7. Use
G-901, G-1133, G-14, G-719, G-13, CG5555-QP4 sub-code, under
G-917, CG-2, under CG-18, and
HOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Your
old AT&T landline telephone old style 1983 built tone-commands
have been data-transferred into the two highlighted long-EEEEE vowel
sounds. The high-tone is colored RED.
The low-tone is colored BLUE.
Computer
(Magnesonic) under my command and precisely matching voice print, I
have an image-object (I-O) now placed on your transpower-block (T-B)
after I have crush-destructed this. Once empowered, all actual beings
matching this I-O on your T-B will be exactly crushed and singed and
destroyed as the original I-O. To accomplish the scan, use
your ZD
technology built into your system. To accomplish this
sympathetic reality duplication, use your AD
technology, (ZD-Zero-Dimensional), (AD-Atomic Duplicational).
Computer,
'MAGNESONIC', on an 'I'
to 'D', A/B—TONE, PHASING
PUNISHMENT SEQUENCING SYSTEM; you will now be transmitted the
two empowerization-transmit tones,
or ETT'S.
Also
last night Sheriff, I had a sudden major
monster burst roach attack
in my pathetic rotten Public Housing Apartment
here at 601 Avenue B, in Fort Pierce, Florida, DPAESMWG in
this particular part of fifth dimensional
hyperspace!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WEEEEEEEEEEEE THAT, evweebwuddy, yo yo
yo yo yo yo!!!!
My
mom died in the Kennedy Hospital of Stratford, New Jersey early in
the goddamn fucking moprning of 26 December of 1997 after Paula
Witchcraft King assaulted her magically in her sleep somehow at our
home in Somerdale at 112 Harvard Avenue. They managed to bring her
back to life, using forward-mortal concepts and lingo, and the first
words to me soon after that came from her lips were, “Mark, you're
not supposed to be here, you don't belong here”. Imagine Sheriff if
your wonderful mom said that to you right after being “brought back
from the dead”, just what would you be thinking and feeling,kind
sir??????????? I know what I know sir, and without being as arrogant
as my daughter and saying THAT I KNOW, I will add this much. I
DON'T
BELONG
HERE!!!!!!!!!
This is right out of mother fucking “GHOST
WHISPERER”, huh Patty
Hockeysticks-57??? When I was talking to my Humana Agent a few
days ago last week, my wonderful Astral Plane children suddenly began
speaking to me over the phone in COIL-LANGUAGE, (Lightning
language). I totally love all of my many children, and
they know that I would do anything in this totally screwed up
metaverse for them, anytime, anywhere, yo!
Jim
Burr back in the early summer in 1975 was over at my Linden Hill
Strobelight Moon Apartment at #1118 one day, and I faked out like I
was demonically possessed just to fuck with the dude. But I wasn't
faking my coils speaking to me over the phone that day when he was
trying to call his pastor from our living room phone that was number
609-784-4020, and I remember it to this day. Time only runs along
because electron move from one point to another point in a motion
around their housing (atoms). Charged with the polarity they are
here, time runs in the direction it does, and in locales where
polarities are reversed and the electron is a positron, time relative
to our world would appear to be going and running in reverse or
backwards. This is just truth, or to quote fake Cuzz Dennis Snyder,
“That's just reality son”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Still, my father's electric shaver that he was using while I was
sleeping that day at age nine or so at my Pyle Avenue apartment
called Haddon Hills at #125-A, tells the whole story and I've blogged
it so many times it is pointless for me now to reiterate this, and
you as the reader either know this or you don't, yo! We dream in the
pain in many cases, and that is basic hyperspace mechanics. We can
dream in the pleasure of things from a crossed over interdimensional
perspective as well, but rarely seem to do this, only those lucky few
such as distant Cuzz Don Trump appears to be able to do this or just
does it naturally like breathing the fucking air for the rest of us
poor goddamn slobs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It's totally obvious to me that
right before August 15, 1986, something beyond unfathomable and
totally inconceivable happened, and this is causing my epitome of
pain-dreaming here in this so-called (waking reality) for poor
pathetic little old non-Ronstadt me, in or out of any lovely blue
southern bay areas!!!!!!!!!!
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I
will not even attempt to tie all of these things up together on one
single blog. Not even ten thousand fucking Einstein minds could ever
do that. You would be asking way to much of even Motormouth
Mountainpen!!! Still, I will say some shit and later as we march
continually on folks, things will begin to tie together in your own
minds, depending on exactly where you are individually along your own
paths of enlightenment, or NAUT! Most things
all totally fucking connect up with numeration,
and as mush as sir DLS my wonderful 1971 educator insists is not
possible, is all anything BUTTTTTTTT impersonal, yo. In my case 802
is very very very very very fucking major. There was Melanie Safka
and her song that I just somehow knew would play hours in advance on
the radio at precisely 2:08, and then
there is 1802 Robin Hill Apartments.
Without even trying to concern ourselves with the constitution of the
galaxy or being mysteriously pulled and led along in your sleep by
the hand, to places quite unfathomable, we all know that after I
moved into this apartment at 1802 Robin Hill in Voorhees, New Jersey
on May 1, 1980; the entire world, to quote the mighty ass-wipe Mister
Pat Robinson, “Turned a cornerstone”.
Something that the wonderful and mysterious dude said to me about two
months ago now one day in the Community room while I was retrieving
my mail from the mailbox system here at my PHA Building, needs to be
also addressed, pun intended, and so let me do just that, me folks
and me maitees, yo and YAR, Patty H. My ears may be tucked away under
me bucking hat, but here goes anywho, yo! He said that my idea about
kids in the arcade as discussed in my great
1994 book called, “The
Permission
Barrier”,
is only half of it and the other half just adds in stuff from the
belief systems of the AAT peeps (Ancient Astronaut Theorists). If
these Pleadian Aliens are real and there as they believe, then they
would have children who just like all children, LOVE PLAYING GAMES,
and would indeed have access to an advanced internet system running
throughout the cosmos, and because of the time difference, all these
things about my book character Mister Jim Pratt, would just follow in
logic. Goddamn it, he might be right. Who the fuck can ever really
know anything, to nearly quote Sir 1969 Mister Sigmund Malyeska, and
just adding in a lot of vulgar dirty lingo into the mix!!!!!!!!!!!
All of this time I have accused the Entertainment Industry of
stealing from me and teasing and messing with me, and they may all be
'remote controlled cosmanet' aliens
playing TPB-GASME GAMES from some home
world. After all, would things like this be allowed to happen in any
real world with any real people, and go on for half a century and
never ever stop or be endlessly immune from exposure? Also,
shortening these three digits to just two, and NOT TOW you GASME
GAMES HACKER PLEADIAN'S, keeping only the '0' and the '8' digits of
802 and 208,
we then have those powerful inversion-years where both the eight and
the zero are in them, being 1980 and
2008. Whether PEE was miscarried by PH
or NAUT, Mizz AT&T BLAKE of 1983, things take major turns right
about there back eleven fucking years ago, yo, and we all know this,
despite my mom revealing one half of the Huntington Family nasty-ass
major secrets to me while alive, and carrying the really big one, bun
definitely intended, to her fucking grave. This of course is why she
was drinking so heavily, or so Mister Tom Spears said to me at the
Kennedy Hospital that morning after 1997's Christmas after the attack
from mighty scary Exploratron Patty-Paula!!!!!!!!!! This allows for
the records in the attack in October of 80, the learning of the
existence of my daughter in 08, the song prediction of the 08
afternoon, and the place that made it all happen and be real, 80 with
the one digit in front and the two digit at the end. And Mister Smith
says that mathematics is so goddamn fucking impersonal. Yeah, right,
Mizz Safka, or to quote your wonderful roller skating song that Dan
Mackey called 'trivial' and was anything BUTTTTTTT, “oh
yeah yeah yeah, oh yeah, yeah yeah”!!!!!!!!!!! Then we come
to a brand new OTHER-KEY, huh lovely electron-microscope Doctor Diva
Margaret of the mighty and very illustrious Medical Research
Institute, on Ferry Avenue, in Camden, New Jersey, “EVEN IF IT
KEEILLS YOU, Mister WOLLLLLLLLF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She put me
onto that movie called 'DIVA', back somewhere in early 1982. Even
with this, we keep the digit of '8'. The great opera singer and the
magic tape recorder. Only TPB TECH can rationally explain a never
ending series of things like this, and I don't give a hoot fucking
pollute who says differently. This afternoon, my across the hallway
nabes are annoying me. It's always something, oh well, huh Ann King
Silva? Tell your friends at the Atlantic City Firehouse that old
Yancy Dog is still alive and suffering here on Dogtown On
Earth!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How can we ignore Misses Marola on good old
mother fucking Memorial Day, school plays and all, huh Doctor Diva
Margaret???????
Just
in case it concerns the mighty Astral-Plane Authority, known by a
handful few Earthers on the temporal realm here as the MILLIONTH
COUNCIL,
I admit that I have never yet told a soul on blogs, or in other other
human way as of this date, at 3 of the clock in the morning, on 26
April of the year 2019 of the post common era circa; all
of the things that I know about both THEM, as well as all of the
connections with THEM and MYSELF, both here on this physical plane of
existence called human life, as well as back in the Plankatory,
(spirit
world).
I know for a total 100% fact, that the
Millionth Council uses Mind Control in numerous ways
against the waking world (humanity) of this Earth-Planet. I also know
that they have rigid and austere methods of operations, and why,
because
THEY WORK!
When something is not broken, DON'T
FIX
IT.
Stick with what works, and copy success. If the ruling Purgatites
believe fully in this method of operating, then by the gods folks,
you all should employ these same methods as well in your own lives.
Jesus Christ, what are we, a bunch of total friggin short-bussers? In
my life here as Mark Wayne Mohr, I have been targeted by this
horrible bunch of bottom feeding subskummites from the spirit-world.
I realize that the educated peeps insist that I am talking dinosaur
here, and they call themselves the Ancient
Astronaut
Theorists,
and that's all fine and well, whatever
floats your boat.
I know what is real and I have lived through enough total dog shit to
drown a solar system.
I am not saying that this groupation of aliens from the supernatural
spirit world (Astral-Plane) cannot descend into our reality with
abductions
and weird
flashing lights
and giant
round hovering saucers, and
all of this and a whole lot more. I am not saying this, because of
course they can. They
can do unfathomable goddamn crap to us, any damn ass time they want
to.
Look what they have done to friggin' ass pitiful pathetic me for
crying out louder than crap!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But I have learned to
see patterns, and have come to observe how they follow a strict set
of repetitive rules and regs. With
me, in order to keep my entire life down and oppressed and unable to
escape being around low life criminal drug addict type persons who do
nothing but hurt me and damage my stuff and steal from me and on and
on,
all they have to do is keep doing the same things to me that they
know for sure will always work, and this is what they do.
They endlessly set up circumstances around me so that things will
only stay endlessly hellish and bad for me, in places where I try to
live and exist, where I try to earn a living and work, and so on.
They make sure that I have no social life, they make people hate me
without reason or good cause, and the list goes on and on, and yet it
is one simple Tellosion tool
these prick bastards always keep using against me, and that is
MIND-CONTROL!!!!!!!!!!!
Not my mind, but
the minds of those around me,
neighbors,
coworkers,
bosses,
authorities,
do you get it yet, you assholes all over the world, yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo yo
yo yo yo yo yo yo yo????????
At
least LIGHTNING
has been very wonderful and good to me,
Sheriff sir. SHE has came around to visit with me almost daily for
more than a week now. No one on this diseased evil wicked sinful
planet can stop the love that Diana and I share endlessly and
infinitely. HA-HA-HA.
Oh yes, not even the mighty Space-Force (MILITFUORCE) can stop our
wonderful awesome love, yo yo yo yo yo yo, and not even the dirt bag
worker bees in it, the mighty and horrendous Exploratronic supermind
Society of transdimensional couch dogs and mama faced pizza pies. The
EXPLORATRONIC SUPERMIND SOCIETY is as some know by now, quite a
group.
It explains all of the mysteries of everything, from Christ's death
and resurrection, aliens and UFO's and the whole scene there,
psychics and why things work for them sometimes and not others, why
the entire world goes the way it does, why times change, and weird
things happen that we all know just cannot be properly explained in
any rational way; and on and on and on we can go here, and you all
know it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why
do they do things like create the exceptional school that I went to.
Why do they do the things like having my teacher, Misses Marola,
insisting that I perform in that Memorial Day of 1969 school play;
and zillions of other similar items, that while happening; seem
totally innocent enough, but when looking back in hindsight, we
all know that SOMETHING IS INDEED GOING ON BEHIND THESE MIGHTY
POWERFUL OZ-CURTAINS, YO!!!!!!!!
Well, there are powerful secret things, and many of them, I have
indeed come to know and understand quite well; such as the “Farm
outside of Haddonfield, New Jersey”
or the (Robin
Hill Apartment Complex)
as it truly came to be in the future decade. There are items that do
not ever seem to be of any consequence, while others both large and
small, that definitely are. Everything
is all part of something that we can think of as a late night
Astral-Plane game show.
The reason that humans enjoy games, is because it is inside of our
very beingness, our
damn DNA for crissake.
This code is not a human thing that's all isolated by itself. The
nuclear world eventually creates the element called CARBON, leading
to us human beings.
However, it is not some random deal, even though it appears to be, in
life's
incredible illusion.
In
the great awesome Purgatory, we exist, we don't live as in order to
live, we need a time dimension and a space dimension.
Now
Jesus speaks of drinking wine in lovely mansions in 'Heaven' with His
Father.
This is more real than anything here while we are 'awake and alive'.
Here physically, we
first need time and space, so that our interactions can all be
created in tandem with this commingled reality.
On the Astral-Plane
(Purgatory),
the interactions are what is truly real, and the
space and time that appears to be a part of them are pure illusion,
although, when interacting; it
seems more real and alive than a thousand of our lives physically
here and awake.
In this incredible existence, we have incredible 'lives' as our truer
larger beingness or entity persona. But
with all of that, there is the horror that is inescapable, and that
is the endlessness of it all.
Nothing can begin or end, in a timeless existence. No interaction is
ever happening, before or ahead, of any other one either. To
compensate for endlessness, the
Coils and the Coins, (Astral-Gods)
have figured out that games
are the only way to distract
ourselves
from the nightmare of endlessness.
These same games there, carry down into the nuclear universe that the
'Purgatites' create through a sort of program. We perceive this as
the nuclear
mechanics, of how things go from singularity, out to the Plank-Time
level, and then big bang out into the nuke worlds, where
star-nursery systems form by way of nuke-rules.
From there, as stated, eventually along comes CARBON,
and then a while down the line from there, along
comes the clay beings where the Purgatites can dream out and away,
through and into, us.
WE
are really THEM.
Still, it is about a million to the millionth power times more
complex than this silly whittle blog could ever even hope to
accurately begin discussing here. The ESS
are the GODS,
or the COINS
and the COILS.
Coins
and Coils are a totally different species than the Astral-Entity
human entity Dream-Downs or 'dreamoffs'.
The 'AAT-VAN DANIKEN Society', believe things slightly similarly to
what Morianity teaches; but they are
unable to make the still needed leap
into seeing some of these powerful truths. The
reason that 'they' don't want to entertain my Morianity, is no
different at all, from those who oppose and refute the teachings of
the AAT and the UFO-Aliens deal.
The
ESS does not want everyone to know about certain truths. Truths are
what eventually liberate people on the Earth-Planet from this cosmic
or better called, Astral-Game of the Coils and Coins.
Unlike the teachings and mythological writings of ancient Greeks and
others, regarding how these gods and goddesses eat their children and
devour them up, such as the great god named Zeus,
who by the way is the
grandfather of Diana Z. Arteemis;
as I remember my existence in Purgatory, and I
can promise you that they don't eat and swallow up anything.
However, they do try to rob each other of energy and power. I am
pretty sure that I told how I was with Diana and her mom, in
Purgatory, and she was playing a tennis game at her family courts in
Olympia Proper, and in the middle of the game during a break, she
came inside this beyond lovely huge dining room area where Goddess
Leda and I were seated at this beyond gargantuan sized banquet type
of table, and Diana sat down. Diana plays regular tennis games and
she is the greatest tennis player; not
only in the area proper,
but the entire
Province Olympia,
which if measured in a human perception in mileage, would be about
twelve percent the size of our great Milky Way Galaxy,
here on the mortal world, or physical-plane of awake existence, and
life as we know it as human beings. As far away as a dozen provinces
totally surrounding us in all six directions of north, south, woust,
east, west, and nest; she is considered unbeatable, and the absolute
greatest tennis player.
We on the Earth-Planet were shown a similar version of the
Astral-Plane (Purgatory) game, several centuries back in Europe, and
this is where our tennis sport came from. But
all sports come from the Purgatory, as a way to distract our
attention away from the miseries of endlessness.
But back to my point on Coils
and Coins.
These entities do not eat each other, or anyone else for that matter.
But
they do steal energy from other similar entities.
If they need to replenish energy after so much interaction depletes
them to a level where they feel this need, they come up to a smaller
and unsuspecting entity and grab it, and then as I believe I told
this story before, here is what I witnessed in Purgatory, when Diana
needed to replenish herself for the second half of the tennis game
that she was playing. Leda,
her mom was holding a small coil that was beautiful and colorful.
It
was bright and filled with illuminated color beyond anything ever
seen on the Earth-Planet by any of us, thirty times over or more.
A loud buzzing and humming and clicking sound is heard by these Gods
and Goddesses in their true form, the Coins and the Coils.
Diana
is a giant lovely COIL. She is 33 feet high,
and if she were to be anywhere around any of us; we, and up to a
thousand miles around us, would immediately
liquidate and evaporate into invisible mist.
She
is beyond powerful, and yes, beyond beautiful. But coils and coins
take human forms in Purgatory, so that they can interact with the
majority of Purgatites.
About 85% of entities are non-Gods and non-Goddesses. 15% or so, are
what loses energy after enough interaction, and then dream down into
a perfectly timed nuke-program of carbon clay beings, and
we become alive and we animate the otherwise lifeless clay bodies.
Now am I claiming that all of the gods and goddesses of the
Purgatory, are what makes up this EXPLORATRONIC
SUPERMIND SOCIETY?
When they eventually dreamoff of the Astral-Plane (Purgatory);
do they travel
around
and do
all these things?
Let me just say this. I am a mortal, and if
I were a COIN/COIL, I would know this for sure.
Do
I believe this to the very best of my knowledge,
to be a 100% true fact, you may be asking the Mountainpen? Well, I am
not getting married, but let me answer you all anyway, with this: “I
DO”!!!
But what is the really big secret here? Well, I have been in love
with the Lightning
Goddess Diana for all eternity.
She and I will always be together, and She knows this, as do I. But
people in her great GODS-FAMILY, have
dreamed down here as the ESS,
and have done a lot of things to me, because I dare to love her so
much. Now her parents have given me their blessing; Zeus and Leda.
BUTTTTTTTT,
there are cousins, the great KRASSLE
BRANCH
of the ARTEEMIS
clan,
who do not mean me a whole damn ass lot of good.
Do I believe that all of the injustices done to me, and that keep
being done to me; are some organized plot by the KRASSLE'S?
You
bet I do.
Also, I know for a fact that Mister
and Misses Krassle, Neptunejupiter Japtarama Cavelantisocleevious
Krassle and his wife Mariena Palamalay Krassle;
hate
my damn guts with an Italian passion.
Are the Atlantic City people, and those from my school, and those all
around me all of my life, nabes, coworkers, people stopping me from
doing every damn fucking thing that I have ever tried to do in this
human damn ass life; all
part of this organized scum against me,
the ESS, the whole damn nine ugly yards, and 27 ugly feet, the entire
324 inches???? YOU
CAN TAKE IT TO THE
DAMN BANK
THAT I BELIEVE ALL OF THIS HORRIBLE ****, my kind folks!
If I were to even try going further right now today on this blog,
into major details that would show
patterns of this hell on and against me, from the ESS, all of my
entire freaking human life,
I would begin a project outline that I'd not be able to finish for
months, and they
would find me here typing away, dead from not drinking a drop of
liquid for 75 hours,
the human death maximum average, if memory correctly serves me here
lads and lassies!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So again with the mother fucking rat
turd swallowing “WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”!!!!!!!!!!!!
ENDocrinologists
AND END TRANSMISSION.
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