SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0297
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
START OF BLOG:
I only wish that I was still keeping a taped life journal, but this first sentence will totally perfectly dovetail and round robin itself with all of the rest of this blog. I am not, and that is the facts. Saying the family from the north is the culprit is no longer some kind of constant after today, as today was a day of super revelation. What caused it was a combination of things viewed on cable television, and the detective mindset that I have come to develop in the past decade or so resulting from the most incredible life and situations imaginable. I could end all of MORIANITY, and not care about blogging, just using the word document as my journal, but I have come this far, and until this project has ended, I may as well plug on as usual, at least for the time being.
Ann King was not lying about cousin Paula and the concert and the military and along these lines. The problem is that Ann was not talking about a few years back, but more than half a century now. I must be very discreet and subtle, and only I will absolutely understand this blog, well, and “THEM”. I had started thinking that the family was the problem, and that the island incident as a youth was quite separate. Now I can see that a major miscalculation was made. Still, even with new revelations, I am not at a place yet and maybe never will be; where I can know for certain or even near to certain; whether this is happening on a quantum level only, and then just filtering down to the post atomic sized worlds and realms that I can know and interact with, or and just as equally potentially possible, is that 'God All Mighty' has chosen to do all of this, and quantum physics exists as a mere illusion to the realer truths, just as Jim Burr implied long ago in the nineteen seventies and eighties, when he spoke his famous words of the supernatural world being behind 'magnetics', and not the other way around, as I believed. Ever since 2007 turned into 2008, I came to see that I had been blocking out from my life, a lot more than just Sarah from Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City. Most people would say it is all totally normal to take what appears to be silly little things from either childhood or teen life, and push them forever into distant or consciously forgotten memory as adult life swings into beingness. This would be true in many or most cases. Certain things however proved that in my case, there was too much smoke involved in these shadows of my past, to permit them to remain endlessly shut out of the rest of my current lifetime, and the first real big one was in early June of 1980, and this of course being going to sleep and having the most powerful dreaming experience imaginable, where the song, “Love Is For Carpenters” first was sung to me in the space time continuum. Then we have six years later in the great sleepless city, then a decade after this, and then a dozen years after this, it just refused to go away. This is not me doing this, it is not my fault, and maybe it is not anyone doing this or anyone's fault, but whatever is playing out, it will not just go away. It is a run away freight train on fire, barreling down the mountainside, exploding, burning; and with totally broken brakes. When I break it all down, even compressed for tonight, and coded and carefully covertly said and done, only myself and those involved in this, will know where I am now in my thinking, at this point in Jacobson Watergate time, my lovely Senators.
Has anyone out here noticed that there basically are two things now advertised on the major media systems of America, the one being automobiles which is always the standard norm so this is a nonsecuator, and the other is the future computer, still known as phones? A child at this point can see that in a couple of years tops, computers will no longer exist. Now, carefully worded here Muscles Ed, certain great daughters seem to know the future all the time. The internet does not deny it in one aspect when the topic is Google searched, and then there was the commercial poking fun at Mark James, the dog-food and drugstore fetcher. This mocking of me was done on one of these future computer systems. Now if this seemingly omniscient being knows so much, then the question poses, why then team up with someone that in short order will be for the most part, a failed relationship? Well, if I can compare my mother's ideas of Aunt Geraldine Snow and her daughter Notralph Blakeatt, after my Aunt contracted ALS, and how I told how my mom used to refer to the two of them in a certain way because they were the only ones able to understand each other when the disease progressed; well, let us see if this concept is not a lot more real with another team. It seems that neither one cared about anything beyond getting certain double strand helix chemistry, (DNA). Remember, that I had no way of knowing the man being discussed here back in 1996, yet he sure knew me, and did not appear to be madly in love with me either. Now taking all of this, shaking it up, and throwing it onto the table; and two things come out. One is that a bizarre bunch of coincidences present themselves, and I am just forcing patterns to draw a picture, so that I can get closer to some truth; and then the other is that all of this wild stuff is totally the truth. Going with the latter here, this means that the all mighty knew recently that I was on the cusp of getting this far in figuring all of this out, and perhaps this is why I have been made to suffer so much recently. There is no proof to this however, even if the latter of the two is correct, still, let us say that the latter is indeed correct, and then so is this conjecture and postulation. I have noticed that the weather on Planet Earth is very sensitive to hyperspace stuff, and major events that normally would not seem weather connected, with and around me, but must be after all these many times. Florida is experiencing its first really cool snap at the same time of this revelation. Again, this can be right on, or right nothing. Still, it is worth typing.
Today, my scum bag nabes from across the hall have been back in their in and out and shouting in the hall mode. It comes and goes, just like all the other crap all around me 24-7-365.
Now on top of this stuff, crap at work has been timed precisely with this seemingly non-related to this location, situation, up north. Stock broker board meeting room #2 was the beginning of it, back in the beginning of autumn somewhere. Since then, my health has been under severe attack, as well as attacks on all fronts, all sides, and all flanks. As for Ann, there is no way of understanding this very complex person. She appears to be a regular Jersey hick, but she is anything but; and is way more than she appears; and tricked me into being her friend, and stole what little life I had, taking away all I had; which was not much. She has my 40 inch television, while I am down here with a 20, and she has no guilt feelings whatsoever for what her daughter Dawn did to me. There is enough shame to go around for five hundred years, that all can be divvied up evenly between this entire miserable family from the stars, or wherever? Looks like Sarah's broom did indeed come up to me, and light-switches broke all over me, or am I imagining something here, United States mother fucking Copyright Office???????????????????????????????
Then there is Billy C. There seems on the surface to be no connection, but digging a little deeper, he said to me that he knows the H branch of this family well, and they have peeps here, and near Kings Highway and Kings Ranch. Then we have both the ESB claim of ruler-ship, and Billy saying he is Jesus Christ come back, and when he takes off his shades, his eyes are glaring jewels. If I am lying about this, FBI; come fucking arrest me right now at 601 Avenue B, Apartment 607, as I've had just about enough from this bunch from hell, and something will eventually give, with or without your interference. This is an observation, not a threat. I just know simple logic, and hopefully, it will suffice George Burns and Gracie Allen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I will talk a lot more as more stuff happens, and it will, it is past the point of no return now, and anyone can see this, unless they try not to look at it, WGPOS. You saw what you saw, SAM, forget son-cops and Lab Dogs, YO because this is not what is important here. Shoemaker indeed made lots of trouble for me, and their daughter Tracy, was the engineer at the Technion Building, that once was the great route 73, 901-Building. Adding the magic one of the binary code, and we get the realer emergency, right Angela and Donna?
Well folks, Whaaaaaaaaa, I will sign off for right now. Same time and channel, Batman and Jessup and Minor, Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This blog Terminates at this pernt, ARCHIE AITF BUNKER. Give Eddie Munster my best, DW.
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