KING NEBNOOSHOO SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0336

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 0336

TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-95

WORLD LABS OF WATER-WALKER ILLUSIONS OF 1988

IN SOUTHEAST PHILADELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA

4 MINUTES PAST MIDNIGHT ON THE AMERICAN

EAST COAST, ON FEBRUARY 16TH, OF 2012

START OF ILLUSION:

I find it fascinating that the mind of Steve Hawking and a few of his close pals of his world, are not only doing what they are doing and saying what they are saying, but also, that they some time back and still realize, SAID THAT THE WORLD OF THE JUST LARGER THAN VOID NOTHINGNESS IS MADE OF A PROGRAMMED INTRICATE SET OF SYSTEMS AND MACHINES THAT WOULD MAKE ANY SPACE4 SHIP EVEN ON A SCI-FI SHOW, COMPARE AS A CHILD'S TOY. Yes, it really is intricately all connected, and in ways so mother fucking complicated, that a million AE genius types will never be able to get a handle on it. This is because the program is all ready in place that I have called the DHKB. This is as real a program in the so-called sub-atomic matrix, as would be any post atomic sized software program anywhere in existence, now or ever. Still, those that have a small inkling to what this blog and the last few blogs of the mountainpen are trying to get across to a few minds in the awake humanity, must be really 'oh-goding' and 'wowing' all of this shit by now, along with scratching many full heads of hair right off into baldness. Well, if you do this, just reverse the chemical compound formula of vitamin-A. Then as we know better than to ever say to Paula or anywhere close to the area in Atlantic City, New Jersey at the WAYV Radio Station; BE CAREFUL. Yes, there is a permanent mother fucking hack in this computer. Every time I write Atlantic CITY and do not go back and fix it, or New JERSEY, by deleting out the small and replacing the cap first letter, despite typing it in perfectly every time, these dirt bag hacker scum fuckers make the letter come out small, as in city and jersey.

Chemtrail attacks returned to Fort Pierce in the afternoon yesterday, Wednesday, not bad, but normally they start small and fucking progress. My across the hall neighbors were total assholes also, they are a little better these days, but it will not last. I thought Paul did something, but he is mad at me, again, it seems, for what I honestly do not know; so this leaves me to remember good advice from my mother, such as shut up Mark. I say this because the other neighbor is very well behaved as well. Hay it could be a coincidence, but let me say something friends and foes, call me names until doomsday, but I stopped believing in coincidences a long long ass time ago, or nice things said or done to me by anyone, except for, and there goes my mother with very good advice. Speaking of my mother, in the Ricktown Manor in the Province Olympia, she can be an extreme pain in my royal hunting trips from time to time. Anyone not capable of understanding this is better off, and in addition to this, in a world of absolute blissfully divine ignorance, Mister Fascitar Hollister. Yes, if

I had become the architect that my parents always dreamed I would be, maybe I could have been instrumental in designing another set of buildings, but does it matter so much when you think about the larger situation, Betty Davis dearest? No I lost me ol' appetite for me din-din, with all the roaches crawling around, Betty, so enough with the eyes.

Thank you Diana for getting me out of that horrible situation. It is not a lot of fun being buried alive like a freaking pirate. Now it seems I got robbed once in 1989 after my return to Mars Graphic services for a day without being Queen or 6, but this time you had to come up on me with a huge beach buggy, sucker me into going down that long path, and then you and your friends robbed me. When I went back into trance, you tied me up with towels and buried me in a huge sand hole. I see I am going to have a problem with you for a while. Thank you for being there LIGHTNING my love, and getting me out of that mess. If you're reading this PP, don't even try and know what is happening to me 5^th dimensionally. Still, I will ask you again, why is it so impossible for me as a poor man, to have my stuff done right, after-all, we all know when it is, it is not just a bunch of no talented junk. Pink Lemonade McGinty, let me tell you something friend. I know for sure, because I have been told by the brightest stars, either by paying me the Mister Data compliment, or directly saying it to me, well, electronically directly, how I have come to slowly make my way in this new world, sheeeesh. Two more things are constants in this cosmos besides light and balance, and these are, that under this Huntington Curse, no part of my enemies ever want to see me in any way happy, nor do they ever say one nice thing to me when it is all really added up and said and done. This is what they cannot take away from me tonight, despite many recent health attacks on my body, chemtrails, neighbors, and on and on and on. They know I know, and they cannot take what I know away from me. Again, the advice, my mom, I get it.

Now as for reversing my compressed life story on my prior blog, a lot of intelligent peeps got their minds blown away. As time passed, if you heard a voice telling you that things sort of work this way for you as well, well, to this I add in, DUH. It is not for me to truly enlighten anyone, only you individually out here can decide to either remain asleep in hyperspace, or wake up in the total dream. I said that I would give exact instructions as I did with the Fascitar, for doing just this, and even becoming a type two and a type three exploratron, and in good time, I will do this. This blog will end in a slightly different manner however today, than with any further talking on this topic.

My mother was murdered but not by Johnathan Schau of the Philadelphia Drake towers Building. My friend and Masonic Lodge member David Roth was murdered, but not by the KING EXPLORATRON HERSELF. These seemingly unrelated and unconnected events, do merge and commingle together, by way of something that when discussed in so-called enlightened intelligent advanced society, the one discussing it is labeled as having numerous mental diseases. I speak of evil. This world society is the biggest bunch of mother fucking hypocrites in this part of the MWG, or any part for that matter, or for that matter, anyplace in the hypersphere. Without the existence and embodiment of pure evil, common sense tells anyone not lobotomized that things could not happen like horrific torture for the sake of pleasure, abuse of children in unspeakable ways, and on and on this list go read. Evil is why both these innocent peeps, imperfect, but still innocent, WERE MURDERED. Both of them died in their “SLEEP” by the way, both also died on the 4^th or 5^th days of March, exactly two years apart, March is month number three, two years apart, and 2 divided by three for any bible lovers left does in fact equal, point 66666666666666666 and depending on the size of your calculator, these digits will repeat until your screen fills up with them. Now this is just a little finding the humor in the horror kind of a thing, but the real truth is that without these two people, my life altered in ways that would take literally fucking volumes of books filled with small ass print text, and that is GOSPEL TRUTH FOLKS!!!!!!! There are persons both alive and dead, that know powerful truths about why these two people had to die horrible deaths. This cover up is bigger than just about any other cover up on the planet. If you choose to think this blogger is a deranged self centered egotistical maniac with multiple psychotic delusions, go ahead, I know differently and your right to your opinions are highly valued by me. Cover ups are real, and so are what all Ufology fans know about as the BRICK WALL, but the problem is that not one person being lied to or that is lying, has the full picture. I have printed the simple picture many times, and it is disbelieved and ignored. I will say it one more time. This entire cosmos is a game. It's played by entities on multiple levels, each group so to speak, intertwining with all the other groups, deceiving them as well as being deceived by them. The reason for this complex game is pure simple distraction. I can prove to you this is all true and real, only you do not want me to. Still I will, and it must be done in a small picture, where later on, you can see that by amplifying and enlarging the principle behind my words, my claims are totally confirmed. Women can use numerous other equivalents, but for the healthy men not needing the famous Viagra drug in their lives, we will use the example as follows: If you walk down the street and twist your ankle and fall down in a lot of pain, here are two possible next futures for you. One is the one that in all odds that any bookmaker would not hesitate to take a million to one on, and this is that number two does not happen and instead any possible trillion plus of other possibilities happen as you experience the pain in your foot for some time. The second thing is that immediately, the most beautiful goddess in the entire world helps you up and over to a place where she helps sit you down, and then begins to passionately kiss you for a solid non stop hour. During this hour, you will not be thinking all that much about the pain in your fucking ankle. The reason peeps all want money and sex is nothing more than a struggle for energy, and this energy creates varying levels of DISTRACTION, just as the hypothetical passionate kiss was doing to the man with the sprained ankle. The rich can live and have both their happiness as well as their miseries, in luxury. The poor will have them in poverty. Still, money can only provide a limited amount of distraction, as can sex. What can be used to distract against the sudden knowledge that you have always existed and always will exist, because time is a mere illusion? The answer is nothing at all except powerful games that provide major power struggles and challenges and contests, and for this reason, our larger selves on the Astral plane, dream down into the 5^th dimensional hyperspace, and as Shakespeare seemed to be aware of somehow amazingly enough, create an incredible play, and then all interact inside of it, totally ignorant to their real larger self out beyond the illusion, that never starts and never stops, how could it after-all, when time is only real inside of the game of Hyperspace Dreaming? Much more will be told, much much more, folks.

END ILLUSION: