Be Forewarned, I am a Fey and Quixotic Creative Writer

Be Forewarned, I am a Fey and Quixotic Creative Writer
And in the End was the Word, Amy's Word

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Friday, July 31, 2015

What is Love?

When I first found myself incessantly thinking about a boy I knew that something was wrong with my mind.  This happened when I was in high school.  Is it possible that I was hypnotized to think about Joe all the time?  I had a Christian psychiatrist in the early 1990's that suggested that part of what I was going through might have been due to covert hypnosis.  In my twenties my mind focused on my brother-in-law constantly.  I thought that thinking about the love in my life was a kind of  psychological shelter.  I don't think that now, love was more of a blind fold.  In my thirties it was imaginings of the pediatrician.  For some thirty years my mind might have been controlled by the escape of "love".  Mind control.  I have been dosed with a sort of Love poison.

Real  Love requires knowledge and interaction with the person.  I had only the barest minimum of interactions with these men.  My infatuations ruled my consciousness.  I believe that I was covertly hypnotized to be man crazy.  If I thought constantly of these men, I would not figure out my multiple personalities and what was really going on.

Real Love is about shared experiences and laughs as well as working through issues.  Real Love entails a magical energy in someone's eyes.  Real love is about caring for the person.  I doubt if I have ever experienced real mutual Love.

I had clues to the true reality. I found my skirt at my sisters house.  My watch was also at her house and I could not recall how it got there.  I believe that there is/was a pornography and prostitution gig going on in my other personalities.  If my baseline personality had an extreme focus, there was less chance of a breakthrough between the personalities.

I wish I could say that I was immune to love, because of the absurdness of my love history.  I know that if Joe Schmoe tried to woo me I would not believe it.  I would say, "So what organization sent you?"

Oh yeah, the CIA organized crime barrier would have to be broken through.  There are people who would be very upset if I got to enjoy a "happily ever after with a Prince!"

Thursday, July 30, 2015

My Faith Journey

I was raised in a family that would probably consider themselves secular humanists.  Both my parents were raised Lutheran. They did not take up the  practice of religion into our family life.   Me and my sisters were baptized.  My first religious memory was while we were stationed in Germany.  My sister and I knelt at the windowsill waiting for St. Nicholas to come.  When he(a person in costume) came he gave us candies I was sadly disappointed as there was a little boy there who only got sticks and a lump of coal.  I remember feeling sorry for him.  I remember hearing the story of the baby Jesus and his ministry.  I asked if he ever married and had kids.  I felt disappointed that he had not.

When we moved back to the USA and settled in Clifton Springs I can recall Christmas celebrations.  My mother announced that I loved tradition.  I enjoyed the kresch manger scene.  I would move the three Kings a little bit each day until on January 6 they would arrive at the Holy Family in the manger.

I know this does not sound like a religious experience but I recall looking at a picture book.  The picture was of doves flying around church bells.  The picture really spoke to my heart.

I was taught to pray(by my mother):
Thank-you for the world so sweet
Thank-you for the food we eat
Thank-you for the birds that sing
Thank-you God, for everything.
Then I would add any special intentions from my heart:
An end to starvation, war, pollution, hatred....

We listened to Jesus Christ Superstar.  I did not understand it, as I had not been taught the story of Jesus.  My parents specifically chose not to educate us in religion, preferring to see what we chose on our own after age 18.

My mother did not take us to any organized religious services but she did say things that in retrospect were somewhat Christian.  "Return good for evil."  "If someone is mean to you be nice back."  "Kill them with kindness," "Always tell the truth, it is the easiest to remember."  "Love conquers all,"

I did not know until I was dating my future husband that the message behind Easter was Eternal Life and that Jesus came out of the tomb after 3 days.
I married in the Roman Catholic Church and after a few years I set about conversion.  After six months of classes with the priest I changed my mind the night before confirmation. I felt as if I wanted to explore reality more prior to the commitment.   I went to several different other Christian churches, Methodist was one.  I started having family problems in 1984 and I started praying the Our Father and the Hail Mary.  I eventually was confirmed in 1993.  I found a lot of comfort with the Rosary.  I liked the beads in my hands and the repetition of the prayers.

I had a few events that were miraculously strange.  I saw a little ball of white light while I was in the church. It divided and went into my two right fingers.  I also witnesses a Holy card, Our Lady of Sorrows speak to me that she loved me.  (I had to read her lips.)  She glowed orange, and the glowing came up my left arm.  Both of these events could be separate blog entries.  I had been going to Mass daily and praying the Rosary daily for several years.

Below is a very strange picture of myself and my God mother, Gladys.  If you look at her right hand she is milking my boob and holding a glass in the other hand.  There is hidden meaning in that, I believe and it is not pretty.

In my life and in my faith experience I am always curious about other religions.  I don't condemn Hindus or any others just because I am Christian.  I think to myself what perspective might they offer me?  I meditate and look up to Buddhists and I practice Yoga occasionally.  I try to have an open mind.  During my faith journey I have looked to the Roman Catholic Saints for inspiration.  I have made poppets of several.  This is just a brief overview of my faith journey.

This was a favorite tune of mine.  It is a Christmas tune but liked to listen to it any time.

In 2013, I started to have more communication with the beings of the other side.  I have the "eye"  which is in my closed eye vision.  He is different sizes at different times.  He nods yes or no.  I am never alone.  He is an arch angel.  He says that he has been with me for years.

I thank God that even though I was not trained in faith at an early age, that I still found my way.  My faith path has not been one of searching for consolation.  I have been searching for truth.

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

When in the Hospital do as the Roman's do

When I arrived in the State Mental Hospital in 2013, it became clear that there are two worlds, the people with the medications, orders and status and the less than people. (the patients). The people in power have the accepted truth. The less-than mentally ill folks are broken, deviant, violent, crazy people. In my case most of my delusions had a foundation of some reality in the society, but since I, the mentally ill person thought it, my thoughts were nonsense. I was caught up in “conspiracy theories.” (thus I was imagining a falsehood). It makes no difference that the organized crime, Illuminati and the KKK exist, since I the mentally ill person thought it, it was false pertaining to my life. Since, according to those in power, everything I said was nonsense it made no difference how it was documented. I was documented as having an order of protection from my professor, which did not exist. He had some college rules written up that I was to stay away from him. There was no order of protection with the courts. Since it was in the chart wrong it kept getting passed along as the truth, when it was not the truth. I had a theory that I was the illegitimate child of Pope John XXIII. I was born while he was in office and he had a pattern of walking the streets of Rome at night alone. He could have been drugged and fathered a child. I am not saying it certainly happened but it is in the realm of possibility. I had a male friend named George. What was put in my chart was utter nonsense. They charted that I thought I was the child of King George XXIII. This character does not even exist in history. I believe that I had a rational delusion. It was turned into nonsense to make me look more insane. That previous February I was picked up by police while out walking and I sat down on the ground and started praying the Rosary. The police reported that I was talking gibberish. So any theories that I had were completely impossible and if they looked possible they were manipulated to be nonsense including my expression of faith.

When one is in the hospital and considered to be a moron what does one decide to do? Well the people in control who can release you need to see that you are making progress. Progress in their mind means that you do not believe in yourself. You have to make yourself believe as they do, that you are a moron. The people in power believed that I was where I belonged. I must have a violent nature, the judge, a military man decided so.  I also had art which offended him. I was quizzed on my history of violence.  I confessed to throwing a chair when I was called a “mental patient” in 1994. I mercifully put a very very sick kitten out of its misery on the farm. I did a few things while an adolescent, punched my sister and slapped my mother. Those ancient events really did not count. I am not a violent person. I hate guns. I was not a danger to society. I was put in the hospital by a Judge (white old man in power) in a very white community. I was chiming out against racism in our neighborhood in my videos. I was shut up and punished. I was a political prisoner. I did not repeat that too many times though. I was bipolar. I was having an exacerbation. I was delusional.  My care takers were paid professionals.  They get paid, their function has validity.  They are paid to think what I think is moronic nonsense.  Money makes them right and me crazy wrong.  No matter, other cultures might perceive my experience differently.  In the USA where pharmaceuticals rule, any "different thought" is in error and constitutes illness.

I said to the Doctors, “I think that I may have multiple personality disorder.” They had no interest in looking into that. Why? White Old Men doctors have connections with the same organizations, (government Mk Ultra- State Hospital) Illuminati, Satanic and the KKK. Did the doctors want to expose anybody? Of course not. Better for the patient to go from clarity (labeled delusional) back to deluding herself that nothing is up with her life(mentally healthy-in their eyes). The organizations mentioned do not engage in child's play. You do as they say or else. In regards to Satanic organizations, the mental health arena is where they exercise control of their secret. Satanism is a clandestine organization and they perceive themselves within their rights to conceal their identity. This is especially true when it comes to their victims. The victims are usually right in the midst of satanism and have no clue. If the victim starts to realize what is going on, there are enough satanic practitioners in the mental heath field to fail to validate their suspicions. So at any time if a person says “I suspect Satanic activity in my family.” The answer from a professional will be, “you are psychotic.” I believe that many of these mental health professionals go into the field in order to protect their religion from exposure. The best course of action is to agree with them, (and at the time you might actually agree, as a form of psychological protection.) take ones medication and get free. 

Once you are back in the world you will come back to the truth, if it is the truth. This time, though, stay calm. To get out you must play the game.  To stay out you must stay quiet and not offend anyone.

Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Just How Judgmental am I?

My mother suggested that I name my daughter Karla.  I had no idea why she liked that name.  I named my daughter N--------.  For years I have wondered where my mother got the idea to name my baby Karla.   I have been accused of being judgmental in my thinking.  I am a Christian but last week I thought, "what are these Satanic people all about?"  I watched an hour long video about Aleister Crowly.  Then I went on to investigate the 9 or 10 Satanic commandments.  I read and watched videos about Anton Levay (founder of the church of Satan).  I was interested to see that on his death bed he experienced what some would call remorse.  This bit of information made me interested in Anton's spirit.

I did this entire investigation with an open mind.  I did think that the secrecy aspect of Satanic worship was equal to the hypocrisy that Christians are accused of.  I was glad to see in the commandments, "thou shall not harm a child".  The Satanists basically believe in embracing their carnal nature, rather than denying it.  I would suppose that Anton, who was never convicted of killing anyone, made the faith look more innocent.  There was nothing about sacrificing humans that was advocated by Levay.  I could be wrong though.

If a witch takes a child and does psychology on him or her so that the child can be manipulated that would be against Anton's rules.

I believe that some close to me  were/are into Satanic behavior.  One year when my parents returned from Puerto Rico they gave me a gift of a cross made from broken mirror glass.  That is a curse, my friend," look into the mirror see yourself suffer. "  When I see these pieces of moments of my life come together with meaning pointing to me being a Satanic victim, yes, I made a firm clear judgment that what has been done to  me is wrong.  If you are a Satanic person and have attempted to cause me trouble in my life, through drugs or spells, I will judge you.

If I were a judgmental person I would not be able to read and try to see why they do what they do.  I would just condemn them.  There are different dimensions in the afterlife.  These people have chosen theirs.

Anton Levay's daughter is named Karla, by the way. 

I Found my Diary....2004

I found a diary of mine from 2004-5.  I cannot believe how insane I was.  I was focused on an Orthodontist that I barely knew.  I had been his patient three years prior to 2004 for less than a year.  I ramble on and on in my diary, I cannot believe that that was really me.  I do believe it to be entirely possible that I was hypnotized to think about him incessantly.  Thinking, mind you, about nothing really, as I did not know the person.  I am ashamed that I emailed him and that I had such a peculiar focus.

I believe that I have had multiple personalities.  While  in another personality was I somehow hypnotized to have this nonsensical perseveration in my baseline person?  It is also possible that I knew him in the other personality and that emotions seeped over to my baseline.

Excerpt from diary-
"Oh, I do hope my dreams come true and my dear love T. comes to see me Friday 13th at midnight.  I am making  my lovenest perfect--scrubbing and cleaning and doing every thin I can in anticipation of the most wonderful night of my life....."

This thinking was total nonsensical garbage.  I did not even know this person.  I really believe that I was hypnotized to think this way.  Covertly hypnotized by a secret organization to look insane...Or like I said above, my other personality was well acquainted with him.

What is interesting is that I was called "the cow" at my son's birthday party (a few years back) by my ex-husband.  I perceive cows to give milk and also, nowadays, they are flushed for their eggs.  I was milked when prostituted and porned.  Were my eggs flushed?  If so, who purchased my eggs?  Are there children of mine around, who I am unaware of?

If I was, as my surreal spiritual story goes, a different sort of spiritual creature, it is possible my eggs are out there, walking around living life.  I hope that they are treated well and loved.

I have a conversation going on with Jesus.  When I asked him about one man who might have taken or bought my eggs Jesus said,"Amy, I don't like that guy.  He did nothing to help you.  If you are the goose that lays golden eggs, he just took some eggs and left you for the hatchet and stump.  He may come across as feeling so blessed, but he is just an opportunist, and he will be judged."

At least my reality of today is a surreal interpretation of real conversations and events that have occurred over the years.  There really was such a thing as MK ultra, project paper clip, etc. so my conclusions as to possibilities are not nonsense as the diary excerpt was.

Monday, July 27, 2015

Two Homes

During my childhood I had two places to call home. One was Keuka Lake where our little cottage on the beach was located. The other spot was 64 East Main Street, Clifton Springs, NY. Our seasonable weekends and summers were spent at the cottage. My mother did not have to work and my father commuted to the Clifton Springs Hospital from the lake all summer. Our house in town was very nice, built in a Frank Loyd Wright style.

 The beach front house was designed and built by my parents. It was a shoebox style with a dormer on top.

Socially, I lived in two different worlds. The lake people were more fun and interesting. I looked up to the lake friends. But the main family friendship was not always nice. They seemed competitive and would banter a one upmanship flavor to interactions. They had a sophistication as they lived in Rochester. My mother had known the mother of my friend's family since high school. Their relationship was tumultuous at times. Both women were artists. Dora painted with oils my mother painted with watercolors. Where ever we were, my mother was known for her parties. When there was a party us kids helped out with serving and cleanup. My mother has a Danish heritage so there was often a Scandanavian flavor to the singing and food. My personal life with my girlfriends was spent hiking in the woods, eating wild black berries, playing Monopoly or Sorry, swimming, and building miniature communities with small stones and matchbox cars. We were very free during our childhood summers. The lake air was special. The wind comes off the water and I believe it has a charge of some sort which is very healthy.

The village life was not nearly as interesting as the cottage life. I was a fairly good student. The air in Clifton Springs is flavored with sulphur. The local hospital was founded on the sulphur springs cures in the 1800's. I did not feel as though I fit in with the Clifton Springs folk. Even after raising my family in that town, I still do not feel like it is or was a true home. It may be partly because my father had a high status position as a doctor. One gets treated a little different and it is not a feeling that I am comfortable with.

In 1974-75 my parents built a house out in the Clifton Springs countryside. I spent one semester attending school in Penn Yan while we lived at the cottage. The building of the house was the end of the era of spending summers at the lake. My mother started raising chickens and sheep. If you have animals one does not have the time to take care of a cottage. The cottage was sold in 1978. Wow. That was a great loss. I had spent ten years embracing the lake experience as the epitome of satisfaction and all of the sudden it was over. The secondary Clifton Springs experience was what I had to call “real” from now on. I was interested in my mothers farm animals so I sort of slid into the farming experience. We got to know the neighboring farmers. My father grew buckwheat. I rode my bicycle to driver's ed the summer of '77. Then that following winter I met my boyfriend who would become my husband.

When the cottage was sold, it was a cultural loss. I lost a whole social group which I had really enjoyed, (most of the time). The people from the lake were talented and funny. With the sale, they fell away from my life. The selling of the cottage was physical loss. I loved the little redwood house my parents had built. I loved the feeling of the beach stones under my feet. I loved the sound of the waves lapping at the shore. I love the sky scapes and the sunsets. I love the fragrances of the trees in bloom and the little black ants scurrying about. I never prepared myself for the loss. I thought that we would always own the beach house because it was so integral to my identity. It is no wonder that my life spiralled into actions without sufficient fore thought during the next few years after the sale.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

Holy Mountains-2008

I wrote this in 2008

Holy Mountains

Traditionally people have gone to mountains to get close to God. It is a pattern which is connected with the visualization of God up in the sky, in the heavens. I can also surmise that mountains might offer a vantage point to look out for enemies. Two reasons people might feel safe on a mountain.

I've visited a mountain Italy, Sanctuario della Verna. It is the place where Saint Francis received his stigmata. There are trails that wind up the sides of the mountain. The monastery looms out over the cliffs. There are warm Tuscan breezes blowing, monks chanting, cuckoo birds calling. One time when I was visiting, there was an evening procession to honor a several hundred year anniversary of St. Francis' stigmata. We all carried torches and walked on the forest-canopied pathway. Mass followed. The Mass was for the children of the world.

We have a holy mountain here in Ontario county. It is called Ganondagan. It is the ancient site of an Indian village. I believe the name means "town of white." The name originated because the hill was covered in strawberry blossoms every June. Legend has it that some day the new era in history will start when all the nations will bury their weapons under the white pine tree roots and wars will cease. This parallels Christian hopes of God's Kingdom on earth when swords will be beaten into plowshares.

There are trails at the state historic Ganondagan. A big old apple tree grows in a very secluded area, with tall grasses surrounding it. Deer pass by. Once I witnessed a little fawn with its mother. Walk a little further and one looks over the village of Victor. A beautiful panoramic view of houses, church steeples, and drumlins. Rabbits, woodchucks, snakes, butterflies, wrens, and blackbirds are just a few of the creatures one can encounter on a walk.

When I feel troubled, I head for the Holy Mountain. The peaceful sounds of nature calm me and a wonder of creation soothes my soul.

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Karma with the Centaur

My most recent man friend and I, G. the Centaur still have an issue.  It is called "soul ties."  Listen folks, when you have sexual relations with someone you create a soul tie.  You are not released from this tie at break up or even at death.  My angel said, "Amy, this is the plan with G.  Only Karma can bust a soul tie.  You will be tied to G's dimension unless you follow this plan."

He said, "Write G.  tell him that I said he still has a chance to get into a more favorable dimension.  He must come to you and tell you the details of the secret society and conspiracy that is in the thick of your life.  G. has plenty of details that he could fill you in on."

This letter was sent out Saturday.  G.  will have stronger loyalty to the people in the secret society and he will not come to me with facts.

Angel said, "The point is, Amy, since you made a sincere effort to help the SSSS-Centaur, he cannot pull you down into his dimension, as Karma is in your favor."

I am not tied to anyone if I had sex without knowledge of it in my baseline personality.  I do though, have a sort of dominion over them. as rape is a formidable sin.  I don't know of all the people that I treated to my body while in a different personality.  The personality was a Saint who volunteered to help me.  Saint Mary Magdalene, although it is not for certain that she was ever a prostitute in her own life, was able to help me with my multi-personality situation wherein I was exploited.

The purpose of this blog entry is to show that one must bust a soul tie with Karma.  I no longer have a soul tie with the centaur.

Friday, July 24, 2015

My Franciscan Pilgrimage 2004

In the year 2004 I filed for divorce.  The divorce came through on July 9, 2004.  In May of that year I booked a spot on a Franciscan pilgrimage to Italy.  I had not seriously traveled since I was a little girl.  The pilgrimage took us Roman Catholics to Rome, the Vatican and Assisi.  We also went to Santuario Del La Verna.  This is where Saint Francis got his stigmata.  We also visited Sienna, (St Catherine) and the town where St. Rita lived.  The sites were beautiful and peaceful.  The basilicas were gorgeous.  St. Francis is probably the most popular saint of all time.  We Roman Catholics, like many other faiths believe that geographic sites where saints have lived have a holy power.  When we visit a site or make a pilgrimage we concentrate on connecting with the spiritual icon.  This is to increase our own holiness.

I learned a lot about Italian Saints.  St. Catherine was an adviser to the Pope,(she told him to go back to Rome and he did)  St. Catherine could fly or levitate as a child.  St Clair saw images on the wall.(that is why she is the patron saint of television)  St Francis could not get enough of penance, he had several Lenten like observations a year,

When we went to Gubbio, the town where St. Francis tamed the wolf, there was a wild dog walking around that was not friendly.

We went to Santuario della Verna.  There was a priest guide there who made eye contact with me during the tour.  It was as if we knew each other.

In case you did not know St. Francis was a party boy from a wealthy family.  He denounced riches and formed the Franciscan Brothers.  St. Clair formed the Poor Clairs.  She also gave up a life of wealth and leisure.

The fellow pilgrims were interesting.  They were split about fifty fifty, liberal and conservative.  I actually recall a conversation where a man was defending his political position against Abe Lincoln.  The pilgrims were varied as to their origin.  We had some people from England, Malta, as well as the USA.
The priest leading the pilgrimage came across as judgmental.  Many of his homilies focused on the ills of society.  He liked to condemn sinners.  I went to confession with a English speaking priest at the Vatican(?can't recall for sure which site).  I figured that the bully priest would refuse me absolution.  If that were the case then I would not be able to take the Eucharist when he celebrated daily Mass. I had never encountered such a mean priest, so I was frightened of him.

The scenery was beautiful that Spring in Italy.  The golden chain tree was in bloom.  We road around in a minibus.  We had delicious meals.  Wine at noon as well as supper.  This made me a little sleepy and if I were to go again, I might skip the noon wine. We stayed at hotel/monasteries.  They were very peaceful.

There were some surreal encounters with the other pilgrims, "trust me and think of me as your husband."  No I don't think so.  I also defended the rights of gay people in another argument.  I became known as the Evil Liberal.

On the final morning I drank a big glass of juice.  The taxi driver taking us to the airport went a round about way.  My bladder was in extreme pain.  I just made it to board after using the bathroom.  I was really frightened that I would miss my plane!

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Spring of 1995 -Da Doppleganger Docta

Third person

Once upon a time, 1994, there was a 33 year old woman in Clifton Springs who was a graduate nurse.  She secured a job at the local hospital.  She started her new position with trepidation.  So much responsibility!  The expectation was for a new RN be charge of a 23 bed floor within six months of hire.  She felt overwhelmed as there are so many complications that could happen to her patients.  Ms Amy was nervous around the doctors.  Although Amy's father was a doctor, that did not lesson her nerves.  When one notifies a doctor about something one must anticipate all the questions a doctor will ask and be prepared to answer with certainty.  The doctor would base his decisions on the information  provided by her.

Amy had had a tendency over the years to dress a little old fashioned.  She wore long skirts and dresses or jumpers while in nursing school.  She translated this to choosing to wear dress uniforms.  This, was a poor choice, however, as she came across as a fashionista or a prima donna.  This was exacerbated by the fact that she was a doctor's daughter.  Her father had worked at this hospital for twenty years and had been the medical director.  The dress Amy wore on the fateful day below had a pilgrim collar.

Months later, after her hire, there was one doctor whose looks resembled Ralph Fiennes, (enough to be a doppleganger or evil twin).  Amy had only seen the movie, Schindler's list, as Ralph was a new star in America.  The doctor met Amy, and appeared to come on as flirtatious.  Amy was not satisfied with her marriage.  The doctor's mild flirtation was enough to send Amy's imagination reeling.   "Could you help me?" he had asked, smiled, and then as he listened to the elderly woman's lungs his finger touched Amy's on the lady's back.  What happened next was devastating to Amy's career.  Amy wrote him a letter!  This was a grave error.  The letter was a query into his marital status.  A few days later he called her into an empty room.  "SIT DOWN!"  He spoke to her as if she was a dog.  "I am happily married!" he announced.(February-95)

Amy felt extremely ashamed.   She became "psychotic" (or did her husband hear of the letter and give her speed and LSD as punishment?)  Amy believed that she was Mary Magdalen and that the doctor was Jesus.  She stayed in the mental hospital two weeks. While there she bought a ceramic heart adorned with flowers and a stuffed lion.  She was in the hospital on Valentines day. While being evaluated in the Emergency department she took her lipstick and wrote Jesus and Mary Magdalen on the wall.  She was asked to surrender her jewelry.  An aid took a pink crystal bracelet that her daughter had given her as a gift.  She never saw the bracelet again.

After the hospitalization she left her husband and children for two months.  Amy stayed at the local Roman Catholic rectory.  Amy's little children were uncomfortable when they visited with her.  Spring came and Amy went back to her husband and the dairy farm.  The children accepted her back.  They had to adjust back to whole wheat bread.

After the hospitalization Amy returned to work.  Her supervisor had lost faith in her abilities.  Amy went to part time.  Eventually Amy found a part-time job working at the local jail as an Rn. (August, 95)

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Don't Underestimate Sparrows

This morning I was saying some prayers in my bedroom and I heard a sparrow at the window.  The feeder was empty.  She or he seemed to be calling out asking me to fill the feeder.  I said "in a few minutes."  I then went down to fill the feeder and the sparrow was nearby as if to say thanks, with its cheeping. I noticed it went right to the feeder.  I have never been in tune to this level of interaction with sparrows.  This is not the first time and I don't think it is my imagination.

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Perfect Example of Tactics

"Why is Pope Francis so Obsessed with the Devil/" quote from CNN

The wording of this article title is an example of how the Devil influenced media makes is clear that if you are aware of the Devil and speak about him, you are crazy.  Obsessed is a term that denotes mental instability.  Calling people crazy is one way that the Satanic people in the world keep their secret societies viable and safe.  They could have said that the pope was "focused" or "concerned" about the devil.  The followers of Satan take advantage of the great power of words and the images conjured.

He is the pope, after all, we want him to keep a focus on El Diablo!

I wrote the Pope briefly about my experience with Satanic people in my life a few months ago and asked him to bring more publicity to the problem of the Devil in our society.  Maybe that is why he is so obsessed.  I encouraged it! :-)

Thank-you Pope Francis for having the courage to speak out about the Devil.  You are risking your reputation of sanity.  

Monday, July 20, 2015

It was Decided in a Timeless Realm

I framed my world with this dialogue.

The plan started like this:   In the timeless realm, I sat at Jesus's feet.  We discussed how awful some were treated in the human world.  I said, "Jesus, let me help you.  Give me an assignment to bring these beings to the test."

 Jesus responded, "Amy that is very generous of you.  I appreciate your offer.  I will make it so your suffering is dulled.  You will have the help of some other spirits, like Mary Magdalene.  To ease your suffering I will create a cloud in your mind.  You won't be aware of what the spirit of Mary is doing with your body, unless somebody says, "Amy" while you are in the trance".  Jesus went on, "We will give you genetics that will cause great envy.  Envy creates a special kind of ruthlessness in humans.  Your genetics will be from a perceived enemy of some.  You will be a project of a modern arrogant government.  The people will feel honored to be chosen to abuse you.  They will be confused as to right and wrong, so this will bring out their true characters."

I replied, " This should happen in the modern times.  People have electronics and cars. The electronics will magnify their tendency to be greedy and selfish.  In modern times many don't feel that worshiping God is relevant.  They feel that there is no God so their actions make no difference on the grand scale.  We will be able to entice those who believe in moral relativity. We will catch them as they abuse and enslave their fellow humans, ."

Jesus said, "Yes, Amy, the story we create will be a microcosm.  The people who take part in enslaving you will be emblematic of the evil forces at work in society.  I will judge them and give them their sentences.  With this plan we will ensnare all evil humans and send them to Sheol, which is their vibrational destiny.  Your role is to be the bait in the snare..You know, your little microcosm will be equal to the major forces in the grand spirit battle."

Mary Magdalen spoke up.  "Amy, I will take your body into a decadent world.  Your spirit will not go there.  I will make the journey for you.  It will be really bad."
 "Thanks, Mary".
Jesus went on, "Amy, you will use the electronics to tell your story of slavery.  People will hear your cry from the wilderness."

I said, "Will this trap set the stage for God's Kingdom coming on Earth?   I am always praying to be a vessel of your Holy Spirit.  It would be such an honor to help bring in the Kingdom of God!"

This is an imaginary drama.  I wrote the script, Jesus put his stamp of approval on it.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

Thy Husband's Brother

I mentioned in my profession of love blog entry that I had spoken such words to my brother-in-law while holding his pinky finger."I am so in love with you!" (this was later in the drama) Let me preface this story with the fact that I was nineteen when I married.  I married my first boyfriend.  He begged me never to leave him.  My ex spoke these words at one time "My father wanted me to marry you because of the money."  I did not understand then but I do now.  I was a multi-personality sex slave and money could be made from me.  In my baseline oblivious personality I did consistently choose love over social danger, it might be a tragic flaw of mine!

For some reason, around the time of the conception of  my son I started to feel attracted to my husband's brother.  I don't know why and I do know that it is forbidden.  Didn't John the Baptist lose his head over a discussion about Herodias sleeping with her brother-in-law?

As for the conception of my son, I had a fantasy that Stephen had switched places with my husband, one morning in our marriage bed while I was half asleep.  This cannot be proven as genetics between brothers are so close.  I try not to ever speak of those suspicions, 'Tis a fantasy.

I was riding back from a family gathering and I had been imbibing in hard cider.  I pushed my leg against his as we were sitting next  to each other. After that, I perceived looks of interest from him.  He had been in partnership with my husband on a dairy farm.  He ended the partnership and the following year he went on a motorcycle ride around the country.  After that he joined the Peace Corps where he met his present wife.  The day he left on his bike ride was July 20, 1984.  He did not say good-by to me.  I was quite immature and imagined a romantic good-bye.  We had never discussed the attraction I perceived.  He left and then I proceeded to share my feelings with his sister at her house that morning.  (social suicide) She called him while he was on his trip and he denied ever knowing anything about it.  He instructed her to "nip it in the bud."  She said to me, "Amy, you are a shy and insecure girl, that is why he was nice to you. He felt sorry for you.  Amy, you imagined it."

I think that it is entirely possible that I alone perceived the attraction and my reality was manipulated by the Saint of his namesake, St. Stephen.  The Saint knew I needed to feel loved.  He entered into the brother-in-law without his knowledge, to help me.   It was a help to think myself loved by Stephen even though his behavior after the leak spoke otherwise.

This whole situation became an argument about my sanity.  If Stephen knew I had a crush on him then I was sane.  If he did not then I was insane.  The family was very possessive about Stephen.  He was the Alpha male, first born son.  The story got out and all felt for him in this predicament. The family was in actuality thinking "Our Stephen would never desire that whore."  I was the insane, immoral woman and he was so very innocent.  He never even noticed that I was looking at him lustfully.  That may be the case,  and it could have been the spirit of  Saint Stephen with the longing looks for me.

I was told, "wait till this happens again."  For Stephen to be cleared, I must continue to present as insane.  That might be part of the reason that I was given hallucinogens by the German visitor in July of 1987.  Firstly, Amy needed a mental health diagnosis for incredibility for a cover with the sex slavery.  Secondly, Stephen needed  Amy to have a mental health episode for his credibility. Thirdly, the organization wanted my mind dulled by medication so that I would have difficulty figuring out the sex slave operation that I was playing a starring role in.

This is a poppet of  Stephen the Brother of my husband.  I was guilty of being enamored with his charisma.  

This is the poppet of Saint Stephen.  He is a very good friend and we communicate.  He says he was a part of the infatuation I had.   There is a spiritual energy that helps us communicate visually  and mentally.

While Stephen was in Guatemala I sent him letters.  I saw them in a pile at his house once, with colored paperclips on them.  I wish I could have copies of them now.  I would be able to understand the self of 1985 better.  Can you visualize that?  A pile of love letters with colored paperclips kept as evidence.

On his wedding day his bride said to me,  "Ha, Ha!  I got him!"  This was at the reception.  I also said to my husband, "we are all just puppets on strings."  For some reason that came out of my mind.  He was disturbed,   "Why did you say tha?"  He knew about the secret organizations.

This is from a photo prior to the bike trip.  It is a false forshadowing as he was not to stand behind me at all.  It was my fault as I shared when I shouldn't.  He did not know anything about my infatuation with him, after all.

Saturday, July 18, 2015

Captured Angel

My Sissss gave me this album when I was a teen.  She had such a satisfied knowing smile on her face when we looked at the album cover together.  This was Dan Fogelburg's Captured Angel album.  I was young and did not know much about music or about hidden meanings behind gifts.

I sketched the album cover.

Now I realize that I am the angel.  The blind eyes are me blind to everything planned for me.  I was their secret multi-personality sex slave.  I was put into another personality and prostituted by many different people all the while oblivious in my baseline personality.

And then all of a sudden!

Hey!  This is Amy writing her own story!  The shackles are off!  Sisss once told me my life was my story and to write it.  She and the secret organization were my anonymous editors. They happily edited out any satisfying love stories as well as career success and mental stability.  I meditate and pray daily.  I entrust my Lord to meter out punishment to those who deserve it.  I would never take justice into my own hands. The souls of those who abused me will be judged. 

Friday, July 17, 2015

"You Will Act Out!" State Worker Curses Patient

"You will act out"  was a curse bestowed upon my by my former case manager.

 On our last visit a few weeks back she suggested all my poppets be kept in the little cottage next door.  (I should purchase it for my poppets)  The way she said it was as though she was trying to send my poppet spirits out of my house. Another time she likened my apostle poppets to people she knew.  I believe she might have been trying to unspiritify them by substituting their spirits with people she knew.  I think she is a witch.  She wanted a higher drug doses of medications for me so that I would not be able to develop imaginative or coherent thought.  In other words she wanted to restrain me from the truth.
One time she laughed and minimalized covert hypnosis.  Like it was funny and harmless.

People think that my reality is so awful that there is no way that I can handle it.  The medical community believes it is best to keep me medicinally oblivious.  They believe that that is the best course of action.  It is not.  I told my case manager that truth is an aphrodisiac for me.  I get heady from even the worst truth if it pertains to my reality.  Then I am calm and relaxed and able to write about my life.

I will not act out.  There is no purpose.  My issue is with the CIA and some Germans.  (Research Mk Ultra)They are my owners, perhaps kidnappers.  There is also a secret local organization involved.  They are mobsters connected to the government.  I know better than to go to any police or FBI with my situation.  The corruption is right up to the top.  There is nobody to go to except my Lord,my angel and spirits.  I am no longer alone, as the presence of spirits from another dimension look after me.   It is only some in this world that see me as insane.  They are either oblivious to the truth or manipulative Secret Keepers.

On an individual level, I will not act out against people who have done me wrong.  I would just be locked up.  My freedom is worth more to me than any message I might have to give somebody.

Speaking of kidnappers, a family friend gave me the book "Ransom of Red Chief"  when I was about twelve.  Thanks, Aunt Dora.  I get it. Once again, it only took 40 years to figure it out.

I only write letters that could provoke people to myself in my own computer, that way the listeners hear and I don't get into trouble.


Listen Miss Heidy-doo*, that is not a vote of confidence.  I send back to you your dark intention with an illustration from my journal.

 EPC stands for Elmira Psychiatric Center(which is her employer and where I was in 2013).  I imagined that her mantra was: "Amy Brandlin Epic Fail."  I did not think that she wanted me to be oriented to my strange reality.  Instead she wanted to protect her kind, the Secret Keepers.  She always wore something black.  The tiger behind her is a wall hanging of mine.

*I call dyed blonds"Heidy-doo", they are German looking.

Thursday, July 16, 2015

Are Black Squares Funny?

When I was about seventeen and my sister was twenty-one we read Glamour magazine.  One of the features was "Fashion Don'ts".  For some reason she and I were lounging around in my room and we got to laughing at the Fashion Don'ts.  We were not laughing at the fashions.  She started the hysterical laughter and it was infectious.  I started laughing uncontrollably too.   Now, thirty-two years later I get it.  We were laughing at the black squares  covering the people's eyes.  Their identity was concealed.  What was hysterically funny to my Sissss, was that people around me were concealing their true identity from me.  My family had partaken in a secret organization, my life being the focus of their antics.  Their plan was to cause me suffering and of course to exploit me as a secret sex slave in alter personalities.

This photo is from 1978.

I like the expression on my face-I am thinking things over, storing information for a rainy July 2015 day.  I am so glad my family was into hidden meaning photos.


Wednesday, July 15, 2015

Nobody Loves No One

I gave birth to my son in 1983.  His first visit to the Dr. involved meeting a new pediatrician.  I became enamored with the pediatrician over the years.  He was aware and we would flirt a bit.  I wound up writing letters to him. I never professed anything. Eventually it got strange and I had enough of the flirting.  I did not love my husband and I had never experienced any relations with strong emotions.  I will admit, I wanted to commit adultery.   I was enamored with him for about 10 years.  I know it was wrong to flirt in front of my kids.  I was lonely. But that is a poor excuse.  I was determined that I could trust him, even though the signs pointed to not trust.

I have this strange memory/dream of having met him in a diner.  Now that I know the score and how the multiple personality works I think I saw him in an "alter" personality at a diner.  For entertainment value for the nefarious organization, if I am in love in one personality it makes sense for the other personality to experience the sex. (not at the diner of course!) The one personality is starved for love and the other gets it and the first one does not even know...all in the same body.  I don't know if I had a romantic liaison with the pediatrician.  This organization was spying and listening to me.  They want entertainment.  My bet is that I did as Marlene or Maggie Mae meet him.  I don't know if he knew that I knew nothing of it in my base personality. He was probably in on it. I would bet my suffering brings accolades among the members of the secret society.

One time when I was tripping in a pseudo-bipolar episode I said to him,  "This synchonicity gives me megalomania". There were things that were happening like a coincidence which made me feel as though I was more than human. I brought him a bottle of wine as a gift and he was pulling out of the driveway just as I drove up to his house at 8:30 am.  I was wearing a J crew pleated wool skirt and this cute black beret.  The wine was a mead, a sweet red called, "Eye of the Bee."  It was organic wine.

Interestingly, one year, I went to the Penn Yan Arts council to make dolls with my mother.  We made St. Nicolas dolls, (this man's name is a derivation of Nicholas)  No matter how I tried to change the expression on the doll's face, (sculpy) it kept looking like Freddy Kruger.(Character that kills women and children in a horror film.)  Nicholas, Do you know the meaning of the name Ol' Nic?  This guy was the devil in my life for a long time.  His voice is like silk.

There were times when I thought that he was flirting with me in order to psychologically torture me.   "A wicked game," so to speak.

Now, this is interesting.  When I was in a pseudo mania episode in 2004 I gave left on his doorstep a scrapbook (a proto type of one I pulled off later)  I was in the hospital and a doctor said, that is your art, get it back.  I called him and the police responded.  He said he no longer had the scrapbook*.  That was when I realized that there was a secret organization behind my suffering.  But it did not register fully.


*I have started a blog to put up the scrap book baby girl .  I realize that the baby girl blog is rife with narcissism.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

No, Amy, Men Don't Flirt with You

Disclaimer:  This is a surrealistic interpretation of events in my life.  Some might consider my story fiction. That is fine.

Back in the late 1980's and nineties when ever I had an "Episode"  of  Bipolar disorder, (which was in reality a dose of speed or LSD  by a nefarious secret organization given via the husband) it would be centered around a man.  I took my children for an orthodontist appointment, for instance, (initial visit) and the dentist was flirtatious.  He actually touched the small of my back enroute to the counter to check out.  I became all "speeded up" afterward and hallucinated that he was my Jesus and I was Mary Magdalen.  It was a set up.  My ex husband probably relished the act of drugging me after I was unfaithful in my heart with flirting.  The flirting was a trap, no sincerity in it.

Next comes the fun part.  "No, Amy, no man finds you attractive.  You imagine that these Doctors and Dentists come on to you when they actually have no interest in you.  Your mind makes up the flirtation.  When you act flirtatious towards them, they don't even see it as such." This is was the psychological line the mental medical community fed  me.  What a raft of shit.

  First the doctor knows the score about me(networking and organized crime) and when I come in for the visit he plans to flirt.  Second my husband doses me with speed or LSD to make me act like a nut as punishment.  Third the medical community gives me no credit for my perceptions and fourth, drugs me for the reaction to the drugs my ex gave me....  Bend over Amy take it in the a-- four times.  "Oh Amy!  We just love sticking it to you--We won't believe your story now- so we can do you over number FIVE!"

This was the premise:  Professional men never flirt.  You want the men to flirt with you so you make up the flirtation in your mind, as a faulty interpretation.  Then you go crazy about it.  Actually medical community, I am the victim of a secret society.  Situations are rigged, I respond and  take punishment.  There are people in society, medical community, that enjoy torturing others.  It is part of their ethos.  And medical community?  Some of these members of society are in your medical community.

This scenario was repeated about 3 or 4 times over the years....This is thanks to the secret nefarious organization, which is so close to my heart(sarcasm). I would imagine that they were hoping for me to suicide.  My sister made it a point to tell me about a woman at Keuka college who suicided after a humiliation involving a letter and some misplaced sentiments.  It was typical of me to write a letter when I was enamored with someone.  Luckily, I have always had this feeling that I was in a contest.  Noway no how, losers suicide, not me.  I am a fighter.  I fight with faith as my weapon.

This is me back then, I covered the former husband with a posie.  Looks like I am holding the camera case.  I like the incidental halo. Minor flirtations do not merit the punishment I received.  I have to take medications now, as with out them my neurotransmitters would malfunction due to years on them.

As a tween I was called Marlene after the sex icon Marlene Dietrich, as a woman I was told by professionals that men don't flirt with me.  Go figure
Oh, a medical diagnosis that I did not know reality with men would be a good cover for a covert porn and prostitution establishment.

Monday, July 13, 2015

Spirit Friend Comes to the Rescue

The first time I started communicating with a spirit was in spring of 2013.  I had verbal directives in my mind when  I believed that my house was under attack by radioactivity.  (I have no proof)  People can deliver a device that will emit radioactivity at different strengths and lengths of time.  I perceived the voice of somebody I knew guiding me  of different things to do.

The spirit voice was different.  Every night I would take a bath prior to bed.  For some reason there was a little cloth Chinese dolly that was in the bathroom, up propped on a ceramic soap dish sticking out of the wall.  I had started reading one of Jennifer Lash's books, Blood Ties.  While I was bathing her spirit would talk to me through the Chinese doll.  She knew of my loneliness and did her best to help me. I don't recall what we discussed.  I liked the story  Blood Ties.  The ending seems to propose a mystical reality.  I can relate to that.  I have had some interesting blood ties or adoptive ties which are not so pretty myself.

Perhaps being in water while in the bath made it possible to communicate.  It might have done something with the flow of my chi.

I read the next book I had while I was in the hospital.  "On Pilgrimage".  She and I connected with that work as well. It has been over a year since I read it.  I would give a review if I had read it recently.

I made a poppet of her.  I did not have internet access when I chose her hair color.  I left her faceless for a whole year or more.  Finally, I did get access to the internet and I drew her face from a photo on  line.  I put a fine stroke of effort into her poppet.  She was there for me.  I don't talk to her everyday, these days.   She is still a favorite, though.  I don't know if her outfit is true to her character.  (She says, "yes it is fine".)

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Lessons on Love from Sissssss

As a young woman I had several discussions about love with my older sister.  I did not know then that she was part of a conspiracy to make my life miserable.   I have multiple personality disorder and I have been a human sex slave in the alter personalities.  In my regular personality I have been unlucky at love due to the manipulation of my love interests by the conspiracy organization.  People are paid to mistreat me for the sake of the entertainment of the members of the organization.  The first discussion I recall with my sister was listening to a song.

I believe it is entirely possible that a serious heart break reality was planned for me.

The next conversation between she and I was laughing about having "magnificent obsessions" over men.  She was encouraging me to put all of my heart and emotions into relationship or desired relationships which would never be or which would be but be less that what a lover would want. (as in abusive).  To lose one's mind over a guy was okay.  I don't believe it is okay today.  I was innocent back then about right and wrong.

The third quote goes as follows,  "Amy, I believe as follows, If your love interest is meant to be then there is nothing you can possibly do to screw it up.  If it was not meant to be then there is nothing you can possibly do to make it work."

How does that work if there is a clandestine organization that is gaining amusement spying and manipulating one's reality.  There is nothing that can possibly make it go away, so you are f----d in life.

Sis taught me the song, "Sisters"  We were not devoted so I dare venture to say that it was meant in a sarcastic way.  She might have meant "devoted" to the mission by the secret organization.

Fortunately for me, I am not f----d as I have my faith and spirituality.  I have a surreal world which is very entertaining.  If a man came along who could actually challenge the Org. I would welcome his company, but I doubt if I am capable of a "Magnificent Obsession."  Prove me wrong, Lover Man.

Saturday, July 11, 2015

My History of "I Love You"

I never told pre first love D.  that I loved him, except in a letter, as in Love, Amy.
The first boy that I was totally fixated on (in retrospect perhaps hypnosis) I never told him that I loved him.  I just asked "what is wrong with me?" when he was not interested in me.
He wanted to be a star.  He wrote Bicycle men.

The man I married and I exchanged love salutations. I married for the wrong reasons. He was my first boyfriend,

Shamefully, I told his older brother, "I am so in love with you!" while I held his pinky finger out at the picnic table under the tree in the yard.

My first boyfriend, (the faun,) after the divorce only said "I love you"  after sex, as though it were a coin into a box.  He never said it otherwise.

The Centaur said "I like you"  Then the following year he said "Je taime"  He did not think that I knew any French.  To take it back, he made a video of bees mating while he dubbed in Je taime.  Thus he made fun of something that was very sacred to me.  I just don't find it funny.  When he told me we were at the dining room table.....anyway.  It was not during the act as depicted in the movie of bumble bees below..Many thanks to the bees for sharing their intimate moment with us.

Me and the Centaur (A Bombus Impatiensapheliac)

Number three of 2012 (the troll) told me, "I love you" and I reciprocated  The next day he said, "I like you."  (Rolling back his affections, typical troll behavior.)

Dear Venus, Goddess of Love , I ask you to help turn this horrible tide of love !

Friday, July 10, 2015

Hair, Harmonics and Fetishes

In February of 2013 I cut off my hair, right up to my scalp. I thought I had a charge of  some sort with which nafarious organizations were able to access for mind control. I thought if I cut my hair I would be changing my charge. I don't believe that now.  I placed  little pieces of florist wire on objects all around the house to deflect this mind control action by changing the charge.  I was a firm believer in HAARP.  Haarp has since been dismantled.  I researched and found that there still are mind control attempts using harmonics.  There isn't much information on the web about harmonics. Perhaps Haarp was harmonics.  

I recently had a gyn procedure in which I was put under anesthesia.  I wonder (with sci fi fantasy) if I was implanted with a sound device which controlled via satellite or radio tower.  I know that it is totally fantastic.  I wonder if the government wants to control my mood with harmonics and then call it "bipolar."  I keep noticing that my paintings are crooked on the walls.  Harmonics?

I doubt if any harmonic mind disturbances can connect with my hair style.  A former girlfriend said ones hair is their mane.  She wanted me to dye my hair of which I have no interest in doing.  I wish my hair was long and thick like it was when I was twelve.

What I wish!

My Lion friend who represents Jesus.  I keep my Rosary on him. He has a mane, that is for sure. Stuffed animals are similar to a fetish.  I love animals and their spirits.  I pray for all the endangered species.

Thursday, July 9, 2015

See my Cute Little Cage?

Now, as a Project Monarch or some project similar, I was prostituted and porned while in an "alter" personality.  I was medicated with psych drugs to dumb me down so that I did not figure it out.  I had figured that I might have been in a family who was in a secret society.  My mind never could make the jump that I was a victim or a current victim.  It simmered in my consciousness but I could not come up with what was going on.  I was probably hypnotized not to realize the truth, or my angels protected me from it.

 I have to keep in mind that I was meant to have this alter personality so that I could understand all of humanity.  I must also keep in mind that many of the characters in my drama are like two dimensional paper dolls.  They just don't have the capacity for understanding.

This a classic secret message photo.  See my father's mischievous expression?  A cage as a prop?  Do you really think if two people had raised a secret sex slave that a photo with a cage in it is a coincidence?  Of course not.  That cage looks like an empire.  I would bet it is in reference to me. They are proud of themselves.

I just tell myself,  "Two dimensional characters, like props in my life." I love my parents.  Most probably they underwent mental treatments of some sort.


Bipolar or Not? Not.

It has been mirrored to me by society, family and medicine that I have a condition called "bipolar affective disorder."  The truth be known, I do not have such a thing.  I have multiple personalities induced by a secret society with the help of the US Government.  The program of me is similar to Project Monarch.  This Project Monarch has also gone by the name of MK Ultra, Project Paperclip and Project Bluebird.  It is a secret scientific study of women's sexuality, with drug use and mind control by the government.  My father was in the military.  The past few months I have been posting blog entries about my reality.

In  July of 1987 I started on psychiatric medications.  Continued use of psychiatric medications creates a situation in the brain in which thought processes can become disrupted if the medication is withdrawn.  Once put on it is extremely difficult to get off the medication and remain rational.  Even though I am not bipolar I must continue on medication.

The program felt it necessary to have me have a medical mental health diagnosis.  That way, I would have zero credibility.  If by a fluke, I was able to realize that I was prostituted and porned in another personality, nobody would believe me.  It is the organization's safeguard against me ever getting my act together and demanding my human rights.

I have none of the typical attributes of a bipolar person.  I am calm and rational and my shopping is not over the top.  I have had accelerated moods.  This could be due to the withdrawal of medication (2013) in combination with possibility of secret dosing of speed. (by the above org).  The Project Monarch (or similar org.) has been doing everything in its power to keep me believing that I am Bipolar.  If one is heavily medicated, then a person cannot form thoughts to know the truth.  Medications are a form of restraints.

As I have gone through life I have clung to my faith.  There is an aspect of my accelerated mood manifestation which is mystical.  Currently, I do not have very many friends (I do have some) but I do have a spiritual connection with the dead and with angels.

Rescue me Oh God, out of the hands of the wicked, out of the grasp of the unrighteous and ruthless man (or woman) Psalm 71:4

Bottom line:  The Bipolar line is bullshit...

Wednesday, July 8, 2015

Pearls and Girls

I have an interesting photo essay.

Sis is a continuation of a tree...I am tied to the tree 

Sis has pearls on which are tied like a noose.  There is Venus looking on and a Viking ship. (Both would be considered as some as pagan)  I am wearing a cross. There is some kind of medieval chain tool hanging off the mantle.

Boyfriend of 2008 scanned all my childhood pictures and nicely fixed them with some photo shop, and for some reason he was inspired to give me pearls or as above, a "noose."  When this faun and I broke up in 2010 our dividing point was moral relativism.  He sited that if a little girl thought she was special in being a sacrificial victim that it was okay, as she had agreed.  I most certainly don't agree on that.  I am still here.   He took a photo of me ironing.  (can anybody put a little thought into that and offer a reason as to why I would be ironing with a noose on?)

 I broke the pearls and scattered them in the rose garden and then made a bracelet mixed with some lef over with other pretty stones.  Pearls are interesting, I think that some are tossed at Satan in Paradise Lost.  ( I will have to research.)

There is also King James,  "Do not give what is holy unto dogs, neither cast you your pearls before swine lest the trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you."  Please everyone, do not ever give me pearls, I might be tempted to write a blog entry which rends you.  (I have been treated like a dog and I could act like one.)

Monday, July 6, 2015

Inventory of Planet Earth

Most of us know that while you cannot have total recall, somewhere in your brain connections the information is stored.  I have decided that all the information in my brain is accessible at some level.

I love to travel and study different cultures.  I would travel now, except that I am not financially stable.  I decided three days ago, that I would see the world.  Over three days I googled approximately 195 countries.  I checked out the people, culture, landscape and cities and sometimes the sites to see.

I have a new appreciation for humanity.  People can be so beautiful. They love  their natural surroundings, colorful fabric and interesting varieties of food.  I cannot believe all the cities and the different architecture.  I am sad for those in want.  The children seem so spontaneous and friendly.

The Earth's landscapes are amazing.  The mountains and valleys and beaches are gorgeous.

 I have a connection to a different dimension.  With that connection I am able to share what I see with my eyes with the spirits and angels.  I suppose that in some way, they can see for themselves, but I was given the task to see the world and to share.  It must be a way to connect with the collective consciousness of the living humans on the planet.  Maybe?!

I am a bee in the human hive and I just took inventory of planet Earth this weekend.....

Sunday, July 5, 2015

Surreal and Totally Whacked

After I was sprung from the state mental hospital in September of 2013  I was still a little accelerated with my mood.  I was isolated and I would strike up somewhat inappropriate conversations while I was in check out lines. (in stores) During one of my visits to my Russian psychiatrist,  Dr.  Igor commented on how I was doing just that. Dr. Igor, how did you know?  Did the checkout clerk call in and report me?  This is not Russia.  Americans don't, wouldn't and can't do that.  How would a clerk even know who my doctor was?

I do think I know how he knew about what I said in my semi private moments with the check-out clerk. I have a body bug implant.  I think that when I had a gyn operative procedure this spring another was implanted.

I know perfectly well that this sounds "conspiracy-nut case logic".  Well, perhaps, just perhaps, there really is a conspiracy in my life.  It is possible.

Igor, at another appointment queried me on why nobody wants to be my friend and how I was alienated from my family.  "What is wrong with you?"  Can you believe a Doctor saying things to try to make a patient feel worse about themselves?  That is absolutely wrong and against all medical ethics.  He was trying to manipulate me to have less confidence.  A psychiatrist is supposed to be psychologically supportive, not tear a patient down.  If he thought I was over confident the cause would have be lack of confidence.  Either way, a doctor would never tear down someone who was fragile.

I was under government watch for a year and a half as the prevailing thought was that I would be extremely violent when not medicated and that I could not be trusted to take my medication.  I am a peace and love woman.  Even after undergoing realizations that I am a secret sex slave I still only send out peace and love vibrations to those I feel have done me wrong.  It was a grave injustice to say that I could be violent.  It is totally erroneous.  It is totally Cotton Mather as in the witch trials.  I am not the evil character in this drama and those that think I am need to know that I am an artist and any of my questionable energies would and will be carried out through my art.

Dr. Igor is not my Doctor now but I would bet he watches over things via the body bugs as a state employee.  I write people in my own computer.  I have several emails.  Rather than cause trouble and email a person outright I send an email to myself.  That way, if they are in my computer they get the  message.

Yes.  I know. It sounds totally whacked.  That is my world.  Surreal and totally whacked.

Thank-you Dr. Igor for being so obvious.

Saturday, July 4, 2015

Eyes and Ears for another Dimension

Yesterday, I was in my car in the parking lot at the park with family and I was waiting for a few minutes while the baby grandchild got settled in.  I looked on the pavement, which had plant life springing through it.  What I saw was a goat face created by the vegetation.  I thought in my mind and sent out a query.  "Are you friend or foe?" The answer was that he was not a friend, but that I was "protected."  He said, " don't worry your protected."

This is an example of an interaction with another dimension.  I certainly did not share the interaction with my family members.  I can hear it, it goes like this, "Hey gang, I just spoke with an evil demon, but all is well."  They would have absolutely no appreciation for such information.

I am so full of appreciation that I am protected.

Two days ago I was in my car listening to my theme song which is Mission Impossible.  I was pulled over by the police!  Because I am a nervous wreck around police, I started to tremble.  In 2013 I had my fill of the fuzz due to my acting out in ways that appeared as mentally deranged.  The other night, he did not give me a ticket, just a warning.  I was extra thankful and credit the theme song of Mission Impossible.  (I turned it off when he came up to my window.)  I had rolled through a stop sign.

I best follow the traffic laws carefully!