CHAPTER
24, HALLS WALLS
This will be a
little tweet-blog. First, happy birthday, PEE. I live in the fifth
dimension where multiple universes in close proximity all are
happening. I admit that here in this one, Patty-Paula miscarried PEE.
But in others, she is the coolest daughter that any father could ever
hope to have. She was born on March 29, 1997, and turns 18 today.
Nobody is alive or dead. Even if I am murdered here, I live in
countless parallel realities, including the one where I will put
myself right bacvk on that stupid train in February of 1969, all dam
over again. Why? Well that's anyone's good guess, but it is not like
there is no hope of breaking whatever this is all around me, and
maybe my determination goes beyond tenacity, stupidity, and
conceivability. I'll gladly concede to that. BUTTT, and I mean big
ass BUTTT; if it was nothing more than a total duplication, then it
would make me the quintessential asshole of the fifth dimension, Mizz
McCoo. But it can be altered in small ways, and small ways can lead
to larger domino blocks falling onto still larger ones, until
eventually, the very sound would be beyond thunderous. For those who
may want to know just what I want to do and what I wish to correct,
let me say it is not that simple to see things in that narrow a
perspective, as I have done this life-loop for about two hundred dam
times, and until you too have done this, and remember it in your
consciousness; trying to relate to my situation is a futile
enterprise to say the least. First, I need to take Dangerfield's
advice and not go to Atlantic City, after my eighth and final stay
there on vacation, with my mother, and at the Trinidad Hotel, on
Tennessee Avenue. Next, I need to not allow myself to get thrown out
of public school. Finally, I need to not let adults talk me out of
what I know is true, the next time I awaken as a youth, with another
opportunity to redo all this dam crap. After this 1-2-3 order, the
rest sort of falls neatly into place. But this is no easy thing, and
to quote the Macy's Santa Claus in the famous Christmas movie,
'Miracle on 34th Street', “That's
a tall order”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MARCH
29, 2015,PEE HITS AGE 18.
EARLY
SUNDAY MORNING AT 1:36,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 55 DEGREES FNHT.
HUMIDITY
IS 62%, WIND CHILL IS 53.
WIND
IS NW AT 5 WITH SMALL GUSTING TO 6.
COLDER
WEATHER, LIKE BACK IN MIDDLE FEBRUARY.
Life is a silly
old dog. If you want to start at the beginning which is always a
great place; then life would become a silly young puppy.
The
great ''TWB'' (THE WEATHER BUG) folks say, after posting this lovely
yellow flower, that, abnd I quote them here,
''Spring
has sprung''.
Well, if you say so; as winter has a powerful grip on
the USA this year, or so it seems to good old whittle me, YO.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Thinking
rationally about it, this particular dam cycle loop I'm living in,
had an invention involved with it. KFP or MAGGIE, or whatever name
that I or any of you choose to give it, it is there and it is real.
For all I know, both the purchase of the IMMC's great PRIVECODE
machine in late 1982, and the other systems built, may be rare or
even non existent in other loop lives. I know for a fact, that where
PEE turns age 18 today, there is no InterDigital Corporation. Maybe
there was an old International Mobile Machines Corporation, and maybe
there was not. That I am not privy to. Like that buttwipe on the
medical commercial with the atrial heart fibrillation problem says;
''I love exploring''. He explored the world while awake. I explore
parallel worlds while asleep. We all march to a different drum, white
or black, and in or out of the military service, and in or out of the
early nineteen eighties, or so it supposedly goes, huh Sigmund
Malyeska? Well, this will indeed be explored, as even if I do die
very soon, I have a little time left, and I plan on telling you all
some mind busting true stories. You only think you know about my
life, as a lot of it has been way too deep and dark to dare talk
about. Only now that the AMA has decided to murder me covertly and I
know this is what is going on, forcing many real anxiety sufferers to
be ill around me all over nasty rotten America, as this is not the
first thing all done and changed just to get at me. The entire PC
(Politically-Correct) movement was to wipe me out. I dared to be a
little too much like Edgar Allen Poe, I dared to have a little issue
with domestic violence, and with these two items, the great and
powerful M2F knew exactly how to hang me dead. Only it didn't work,
as I am a survivor and an adjuster. I am very resourceful. You and
the immediate clan are not the only ones who have that quality, EX
MAYOR LEVY. All things connect. This is not a 3-D phenomenon,
my friends out there. It is made ever so perfectly for the great
lovely Mizz Marilyn. But the problem with HAIR and HER and all of
this, is HOW did she and Johnny Davis know all this in 1968, unless
you factor in that the ESS is sending many travelers into all of us,
and we do not remember all of our dreams, remember that, people. They
count on this. Between using a very clever scrambling technique and
some other methods of major confusion and obfuscation tactics; they
can do unlimited things all around us, and with the greatest amongst
us, remaining absolutely unaware of this powerful reality. Anyone
onto it, is beyond hyper-time dangerous to them. This is why the
anti-anxiety medication has been literally erased and canceled out of
the permitted sociological behaviors that are permitted. No one saw
it coming, not even me. And I was cut off this medicine before on
several occasions. No one is ever too smart or too clever. No one can
boast in truth that they have all the answers. Those who don't abide
by this law of cosmos (LAWTRONICS) as Morianity and I call it and
label it; always are doomed to suffer major consequences, first and
foremost, to appear eventually as total idiots.
Agree
or don't agree with me, people, but I know a few things about what I
talk about. I see the thickness of a lifetime that may be almost the
same thing, but it feels compounded, as the repeated-ness of this, is
definitely remembered fully well by me, and maybe more so than most
of you keep your one-life-thickness reality. What this means is, and
you know this; you are only basicly an averaged part of your life.
All the you and the memories of yourself is bunched together and then
there is the current short while, and that is that. I feel ten years
like you feel forty, because I remember just about every single
thing, small and large alike, all of it. So on top of that, I
remember all the cycles. This 8000 feels like about what 30,000 years
would feel like to you. Talk
about HELL!!!!!
Take
this to the bank and the flower to the girlfriend, dude: There is
only one truth. I have had nearly ten thousand dam years to try and
get to that truth. I am no closer than I was when I began this
unfathomable effort. BUTTTTTT, all
public terminal Fort Pierce library 2010 computers, and 2006 and 2007
early TRI-BLOG parts of the BOM, (MY BLOG); I wouldn't trade all of
the trying, and all of the sleuthing; and all the philosophizing
throughout this mini-eternity; for all the tea in China, all the gold
in Fort Knox; and all the love in the dam cat
house!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT is some truth
for anyone to digest. No one will, but
it is out here. Like DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
HOLY
MOTHER FUCKING TOLEDO TECHNO PIX. FOR THE LOVE OF JUPITER, AND
JUPITER INLET!
What
did happen, is THAT I WAS MIND HACKED, to forget to change the month
date on the copy paste in, so WEEEEEEEE, sir
Chester-Frank!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
KIND
FOLKS, MY LIFE IS CURSED. I AM PART OF A SECRET SO BIG, NO ONE WILL
FUCKING TOUCH IT, IT IS CALLED THE HUNTINGTON CURSE, AND NOT TO BE
CONFUSED WITH THE INTENTIONAL DISINFORMATION OUT ON THE NET, AND THE
OTHER HUNTINGTON CURSE. OH LIBRARY LINDA, I AM SO HAPPOY YOU AND YOUR
FRIENDS MADE IT BIG WITH YOUR ANCESTRY DOT COM WEBSITE. KEEP UP THE
GOOD WORK, GLAD TO BE OF SOME SMALL SERVICE BACK IN 2010; TALL LOVELY
GODDESS. W—O—W!!!!!!!!!! BECAUSE OF THIS CURSE, ONE PERSON IN
THIS FAMILY FOR 2000 YEARS, BEARS THE BURDON OF THIS, RIGHT MORGAN
COLLINS OF DARK SHADOWS???????????? But one way to know my story is
the truth, and you can ask any sike doctor if you put truth serum in
his or her drink first to be sure of an honest unbiased response. No
story this big and this fantastic could be written if not true, and
read backwards, the way on a blog site is goes if you start reading
and keep going backwards. Not even Albert mother fucking Einstein
could make up something like Morianity, and fake hoax it all up, and
be able to not be caught up in a bullshit phony caught lie, NOT IF
WHAT HE WROTE WAS READ IN REVERSE. NO ONE IS CAPABLE OF DOING THAT,
NOT EVEN THE ONE WHO FIRST FIGURED OUT SPACE-TIME AND RELATIVITY, AND
THAT, IPY.
BLOGS
OF MARK WAYNE MOHR, 2006-2015
BLOGS
OF MOUNTAINPEN (BOM)
~~~~~~~
My
life is total hell!
On
Blogger since January 2006
Profile
views – 3032
©
MARK WAYNE MOHR 2006-2015
At
least it's cool. The summer heat can be a real shock for the
northerners, who first experience this reality. Lenny McKinnon would
most likely say to Miss Chillie, if they were both here for the first
time; “Good Lord and a quarter”. Back last August, many days
strung together just like this one as PIPPED in below, and July as
well.
AUGUST
21, 2014,
THURSDAY
MORNING AT 2:33,
HERE
IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT
TEMPERATURE 77 DEGREES FNHT.
YESTERDAY'S
TEMPERATURE RANGE (96-75)
CURRENT
HUMIDITY IS 100%, FEELING 86.
For
anyone who wishes to archive old blogs before this current one, the
following list can always be clicked on, YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
MY BLOGS:
Here
is the weather map from TWB system.
THIS
IMAGE IS COURTESY OF WEATHER BUG AND
CHANNEL
12, 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.
|
Advisory
Colors Key
|
|
|
|
Winter
Storm Watch
|
|
|
Flood
Warning
|
|
|
Non-Precipitation
Advisory
|
|
|
Flood
Statement
|
I
Hurricane
watch/warning
Marine
Warning/Rip Tide Warning
``````OH
FUCKING
SHIT.
Beautiful
MOON, Goddess Diana my endless love!
Whachu
laffin at; lovely girl????????
I
could lose my mind; you're so gorgeous, DI.
Try
not to make fun of my old 1994 car, gorgeous Stephanie!
In
blogs I have done over the past eight years now; quite a small feet
if I may say so myself, good folks; I have discussed the FASCITAR,
and told a small bit of this ancient ultra secret set of paranormal
instructions, for proving to anyone; that atheists are all wrong
about nothing being ''beyond'' this so called waking and mortal life.
I do not make this judgment call, so don't come at me with sticks and
stones and knives and guns, please. The Fascitar makes this claim,
and then goes on to verify its claim, to anyone who has the fucking
balls to properly use it, and thus see it all for themselves. I do
not plan on rehashing any of these instructions or even reiterating
what it is all about, not here on this blog, as that is not a part of
the point that this writing will be trying to make. All I want said
about it is that is more secret than anything else kept and called a
secret, and that if released into the general population, it would be
a matter of only a short space of time, that all of humankind and its
organized power structure large religions, would dissolve away and be
exposed for the total frauds they are, in a nutshell, being there to
give hope to those who fear death and hell, the hell part created by
them to generate that fear, and other things time prevents me from
detailing on this particular writing. But it is all there, if anyone
should have the desire and the time, to archive my blogs that show
up, these current ones, and then on this current one, on many of
these blogs, I show the BIO-PAGE, where you can click next to any of
five bullets that name my five original blogs, on BLOGGER DOT COM,
beginning in January of 2006. This appears right next to a normally
larger font made by me, area, saying' ''MY
BLOGS''. Now we move this along to part two of four which is
the JACOBSON, and also known in
my blog texts and writings since the near beginning of them, as SARAH
JACOBSON; from the New Jersey Rehab System
of Camden, New Jersey, and who attended the REHAB CLASS,
in the same special education school that I went to, on Hopkins Lane,
in Haddonfield, New Jersey; back as the nineteen-seventies began to
come into the scene, replacing the love/hate sixties' truly known in
all of its mysterious numerous ways, by only those who were there to
live and experience these wild times.
Sarah
Jacobson was not an ordinary girl by any stretch of anybody's
imagination. She was extremely lovely with long dark hair, extremely
tall, unfathomably physically strong, the coolest personality in the
world, and seemed to have advance knowledge of future events, as did
some others in this lace just a short while back, coming to mind
first and foremost, is Misses Marola, who knew the way the first ten
years of the following century were going to be pronounced, while
nobody else seemed to, and other stuff is just as suspect as well,
leading me to the conclusion that right after she was suddenly gone,
her replacement as a younger self was immediate, the JACOBSON.
Without boring anyone to tears and back, all the way to Christmas of
twenty-seventeen or so, I'll abridge, compress, and transform what
comes next, into a real short and sweet little ditty of words that
tell what needs to be told, without any of the fat or window
dressing. It will be thinned out to anorexic proportions, but you
will get the connections, if you want to, and if you really are
trying to, good peeps.
Misses
Marola insisted that I do something, not on school time, and where
she did not have the authority to be so ultimately relentless with me
against my will, but did it anyway, and it all led me to be at a
place at a totally different time on May the Thirtieth of 1969, in
Atlantic City, New Jersey, than would have been the case if she had
not forced this issue, and this event, altered the course of my life,
and many many lives around the world to this very day. All
major events that pertain to the story of Mountainpen and morianity,
and MARK WAYNE MOHR, seem to be on and occur on A
LEGAL UNITED STATES HOLIDAY. This goes quite a bit beyond
mere happenstance or coincidence. You may insist on disagreeing with
me, and as I said many times, I am willing to fight and die on any
battlefield in this world, for your right to indeed do so, stupid as
disagreeing with me about all these things possibly being
coincidental, may be.
Now
this was a teacher in this special education school, and she was my
teacher, from early middle February through late into June, back in
1969. Once she did her job, knowing already that my days with Sarah
on Tennessee Avenue were winding down on this last summer of running
into her, somehow, but she knew it, believe that; this is when on the
following spring in 1970, my encounter with the great next paranormal
person to come into my life, indeed happened, the JACOBSON. I am not
at liberty to tell all that I want to here. The world simply is not
ready to accept so much. After all I went through with all of this,
even I am light years away from understanding and appreciating the
full scope of this big-picture story happening all around me and even
still to this very day, so how the devil can I in good conscience
expect anyone else to GET IT?
Still,
SHE HAPPENED, and it was very major. She did things to me both while
I was awake and asleep, that both Sarah from Tennessee Avenue did to
me, and way up in my adult life, her newest persona has done,
beginning in 1997 and then going on a lull for a while until a full
11 years ticked by past then. Only so much more connects all of this
that volume sized encyclopedias would never contain it in proper
elucidated details that would not leave any kind of blanks or skips
in this awesome and inconceivable story. Now, and since 1980, I no
longer have one paranormal, but two paranormal ''people'' that mess
with me, when the mood strikes them, despite my recent best attempts
to distance myself totally away from them. And the coincidental thing
pops right up again, as when I get the next phase or 3 of 4, the
TRUMP, he does the very same
thing, by stuff he did and bought, that made the few things I used to
enjoy in my rotten life, all turn into total pig crap at the speed of
light, such as buying up all the pageants of beauty queens, and along
these lines, and there are many others, way too numerous to get into,
on this text here today. On top of these interconnecting items that
few have the psychic energy or PERCEPTION
to properly even begin to see, or 'spiritually
visualize' so to speak; is the way an entire life can be seen
if you stand back away from it as a totally neutral observing
outsider; and watch what I jokingly now call, ''HALLS FAWCES'',
working through an entire huge operation, that makes things all
happen, no matter how incredibly hard one might try and fight against
it, it is exactly like swimming against a rip tide on steroids, and
being four years old, and who had just been taught to swim a day or
two ago.
Now
speaking of invader Phase-4 entity TRUMP, not the brain or body; but
the 'HIM' that is inside of it, that no surgeon could ever cut open,
and then so much as hope to witness or observe or measure in any
meaningful way, not yet with today's teck, right Professor
SCI-CH-KAKU?, but yes, speaking of this wild dude who influenced me
to create him on a 1980 open reel semi-pro mastering machine called
the RS-1500-US tape recording machine, where would I even think of
starting? I could type for a year, and not tell it all, so why even
begin such a futile time wasting energy wasting endeavor? I won't.
BUTT, it is time to draw the connecting FAWCES of mister Hall, into
these three items, FASCITAR, JACOBSON, TRUMP. This item is called the
electromagnetic spectrum. Again, I will shorten a quick lecture about
all of this to get a few of my smarter readers really thinking and
maybe drooling on their shoes; but that is all I can do. It would
take lifetimes to try and explain the life that I have already lived,
and just as me, in three dimensions, as Mark Wayne Mohr. I could give
all of you the accepted scientific explanation first off of just what
really, this mysterious sounding item is all about, the EM spectrum,
but that is for the birds. That won't cut any mustard is so far as my
attempt to connect it up to these other three items, not that
anything will, but old gambler me, as many of you already know;
always plays the odds, or said perhaps somewhat more accurately,
tries to pick and choose the very best odds, in all of life's many
situations.
A
NASTY HEART HIT, PAM BONDI. WATCH ME!
THIS
PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW.
WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
OR
MAYBE JUST WATCH ME DIE, WO BILLY.
No comments:
Post a Comment