This will probably be one of my more difficult to write posts. Many of the posts I write are dealing directly with MK Ultra and Military Abduction experiences. I relay the details and spare nobody from the harsh reality. It would be an injustice to the reader and the tortured souls dealing with the trauma and pain of their own experiences to sugar coat the truth. The truth is a sharp knife and I have no compunction about stabbing it into all life everywhere.
I consider myself to be resilient and able to handle most conditions life interjects into my world. I have always risen up after being knocked down and I’m pleased with that aspect of myself. The battle I’m in now is the most difficult battle I’ve ever faced. I’m battling demons, literally and figuratively, my own mortality as a child and the fallout of years of MK Ultra programming. I’ve got the scars, literally and figuratively, implants, memories, and like everyone else, I still have to live, eat, sleep and survive. I say survive, because if you’ve been in these programs, you probably aren’t really living. We eek out an existence at best and it’s unfortunate.
I like to use supplements like vitamins and minerals and eat organic foods. I enjoy exercise, nutrition and junk food too. I do not use the services of doctors and I detest pharmaceuticals, drugs and pills. I think people over use medical services and take pills as a crutch in many cases instead of dealing with problems directly. I appreciate deep breathing techniques and nature sounds to relax and calm myself after a stressful day or event.
Since October of 2011, when the damn broke and stagnant, filthy waters of thirty years of programming surfaced, I’ve had a difficult time of handling things the usual way. The nightmares, shakes, panic and rage attacks are not shut off by breathing and relaxing. St John’s wart and amino acids no longer calm my mood. Herbal tea and meditation cannot curb the wave of emotions and physical side effects. This leaves me in a predicament. I do not want to medicate. I feel it is a sign of weakness and defeat. The medications have side effects and are harmful long term to our bodies. I tell myself, I’ve only had three months to handle the situation and the PTSD is normal. I have to be careful. I’ve had a few panic and rage attacks at work. I get really jumpy and edgy. I work alone, but I don’t want to get caught in an awkward situation. The businesses I work for have been very good to me over the years and I don’t want to let them down. I tell myself, just get a prescription to take the edge off and treat the PTSD. I figure some sort of anti-anxiety pill will be o.k. I know how things work though. You start with a milligram of some pill and six months later it becomes two milligrams and you get the point. I tell myself that I need to mature into the PTSD and learn to cope and handle it. It will get better over time? Then there’s the question about what I tell the doctor or psychologist about my symptoms. What do I tell them? Do I mention MK Ultra, sexual abuse or ritualistic satanic abuse? My mind almost shuts down thinking about all of this.
I don’t want the programmers and Luciferians running the show to see this. I’m sure it gives them great pleasure to think one of their “Chosen Ones” is struggling. That alone makes me want to forget the whole idea of medicating. I’m just tired and weary of screaming and punching inanimate objects and then shaking for two hours afterwards. I want to at least try to have a normal life with what precious time we have left before the world goes bat shit with upheavals.
The Dark Knights showed up again last night after my rage attack. I had finally calmed down and the quick release Melatonin was actually working. Then, all of a sudden the room pulsed with total darkness two or three times and the dark shadows walked along the walls. I was pissed. After another horrible evening, my abductors, the military abductors had arrived for yet another episode. I was too exhausted to try and stay awake. I just gave in and went to sleep.
It kills me inside to submit a post like this to the public to read and critique. I just don’t have anybody in my life to talk about these things with. I do have one beloved great friend I trust. She has her own issues to handle, so a courtesy to her, I try not to put her on overwhelm with my problems.
I always say, I’m a survivor and not a victim. Am I a victim if I medicate? I can’t answer this question for myself at this time.
This post will describe an encounter I had with the all too well known Grays. The intriguing, four foot tall ETs with almond shaped eyes that have been documented, loved and hated and are probably the most controversial ET race.
In the fall of 2010, I had an onrush of contact activities with extra terrestrials and one of those experiences was profound to understate the event. I was comfortably sleeping when I awoke to find two thin forms standing next to my bed. It was unmistakable, the beings were the Grays. Yes, those other worldly beings made famous by Whitley Strieber were standing next to my bed. What happened next was quite unbelievable, even with an entire life of so called paranormal and anomalous activities.
As soon as my eyes and their lenses met, I was instantly out of bed and standing between the two beings. They both turned and faced south and I instantly turned with them. We began to move in unison like a train. One of the Grays was the engine; I was the box car in the middle and the one behind me, the caboose. I was not in control of my movements. Their will moved me and I’m certain my feet never touched the floor. I was diverted from my bedroom into my reading and contemplation room at the other end of my house.
Before I reveal their correspondence, I want to qualify their statement in advance. It became known to me I would be going on a journey at an unknown point in time. I would be going on a journey to somewhere else in the solar system. I was curious as to whether I would travel in my physical body or by some other method. They contacted me on that spellbinding night to answer a question I only asked in my mind.
After we arrived in the reading room, one of the Grays spoke to me. The Grays always speak telepathically. He said, “Your lungs are going to fail.” Then he said, “I’m sorry.” His comment was an answer to whether or not I would travel elsewhere in the solar system in my physical body. I replied to what he said, but I do not remember my response. After I replied to the communication, the Grays turned and walked through the wall of the reading room. They vanished into thin air! I stood there for a moment trying to grasp the enormity of the encounter. This visitation was a big deal for me. Several hours later, I woke up in my bed.
I believe the encounter happened in my etheric or astral body. I was too calm and poised in light of such a profound encounter to have not experienced the adrenalin release an individual would experience in the physical body. Nonetheless, the encounter was real and I will never forget it. Also, in closing, I use the term “he” loosely. The Grays seem to have an androgynous spirit, but my perception may be incorrect.
This post is a response to ‘your supporter‘ from O’Finioan’s web blog. I couldn’t reply to your comment and what I had to say after reading your response was so much, I decided to respond to you on my blog. First, thanks for taking the time to listen to the YouTube recording and for responding.
This is actually to Khris about the “Dream” he recorded. I think you know that was no dream. I cannot go into why. My question is, why are you aiding and abetting that satanic bastard? He has appointed himself dictator. You let him stroke your ego. We’re all being told to forget about it, forget the slaughter of MKULTRA and like related genocidal programs that are still ongoing, forget our own torture and forget helping the innocents today. I say I will never forget! and don’t let the crazy/discredit myself programming act up either. The militias are tightly wound. I am concerned about that.
Let me first start with the children. Please don’t think for a moment the children aren’t on my mind constantly. I’ve been to the national center for exploited and missing children website. The stats are very sad. There are a couple hundred thousand children abducted by their own parents in custody struggles. We all know where the other 450,000 to 500,000 children go. Yes, perhaps a few of them are in cages at a sex perverts house or raped and buried in the woods someplace. We know where the vast majority of the children after that go. It’s amazing how they just disappear without a trace. Not even an eye lash is left behind.
I realize these diplomatic/official dreams are not dreams. I don’t want a bunch of black SUV’s parked outside my house, so I report the experiences as dreams. I guess that goes along with choosing your battles carefully.
The main thing I disagree with you on is the aiding and abetting comment. I was there to simply get him to understand his actions could start an uprising or civil war. I think the aid was to the people of the planet who would suffer considerably if the U.S.A were to go to civil war. Satanic, now I totally agree with you on that.
Now we can get to the ego part of this communication. I was raised in central Illinois, the son of a coal miner. My mother was a farm girl. I had very humble beginnings and still do today. I went swimming in a muddy lakes, cat fishing and worked on my car in my teen years. If you were to meet me in person and have oatmeal cookies or bread pudding, hopefully both without raisins, I think you would find me down-to-earth with no major chips on my shoulders. It was obvious growing up I was not like the other kids. I got picked on a lot and it got damn violent in high school. I survived with bumps, bruises, cuts etc. The emotional toll was overwhelming. I was the underdog, the guy who was not likely to ‘succeed’ and all that typical high school bullshit. So, yes, please don’t think for a minute that when I returned from that out of body experience, I didn’t feel a little boosted in the ego department. Imagine all the popular and rich kids laughing at you and shit during what are supposed to be your best years. Now, imagine, twenty years later, traveling alone, time traveling, with the President of the United States and politely telling him to get with the program. I was a little, only a little, puffed up in the ego department.
The president is intelligent, but he appears to have the emotional intelligence of a twelve year old. I was freaking thrilled somebody in his entourage stood with me to convince him to back down. It was like a mother catching her son with a Bob Marley marijuana t-shirt and fighting over whether he could wear it to school. That’s about how he reacted to my concerns.
I cannot any longer, after the emotional release I recently experienced, struggle with the good and bad shit. At this point in time, dictator, no dictator, Luciferian or not Luciferian, fight and struggle emotionally over what is right or wrong. It was killing me and making me hate life. Barack Obama has his role to play and I have mine. We all have our roles and some are the good guys and some are bad. I don’t care anymore whether it’s good or bad; I just want to be happy and do what I came to do.
With all this said, I just have one question to my higher self, God, etc. There are seven, count them, seven billion people on the Earth in bodies of flesh and blood. How the hell did I out of those seven billion end up going from corn fields to consulting with Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton (Out of the Body?) about how their decisions affect the entire planet. Oh, I’d really love for my inner sight to open and reveal this. You know what they say, be careful what you ask for… …
This post will detail an experience I had with torture and how I relived the pain by accident. I was remote viewing and wasn’t having the best day at it. I felt blocked. I have to be in a calm mood with nothing major bothering me and rested to remove view with accuracy.
I wanted to go back to the time when I was five or six years old. I decided to get a picture out of myself when I was five and gaze into it a while to help myself go back in my mind or subconscious. It was very difficult because I started to wonder where that little boy went. I missed the sweet innocent child that loved everybody and felt safe with his parents. I’m definitely not him now. After reviewing the photo, I started to remote view and went to alpha. At alpha, I found myself in an extremely long hallway with doors on both sides. I visualized myself as a five year old walking down the long corridor. As I continued my journey along the corridor, something happened that was a first in my nearly eighteen years of doing The Silva Method/remote viewing. A man appeared to me and told me to “go back!” Again, reader, I was in the long corridor as a five year old child. I didn’t know whether I could trust the man and I decided to go forward against the mans advice. I eventually found an open door to my left and decided to enter the room. The room was dark as night with no moon. In the room I heard myself scream and cry. The screams were from pain not fear. I was in excruciating pain. The cries were those of me as a child. I heard these screams as if they were in the room with me in real time. It sounded like a child was screaming next to the bed I was in. This totally freaked me out. I jumped out of bed and looked around and of course there was no child. I even opened my front door to see if a child was hurt outside. The scream was so real!
I grabbed a bottle of water and drank the whole thing. After several minutes of trying to understand what the hell just happened, I decided to go to bed for the night. When I got back into bed, my head started ringing like a bell. I heard oscillating tones inside my head and there were flashes of light under my eyelids. All of a sudden, I started having severe pain in my testicles. The pain was bad enough that I put my hand down by my testicles. When a person holds a wound or sore area, that is called posturing. As I was posturing and trying to deal with the testicle pain, I started to heave like I was about to vomit. Luckily, I hadn’t had anything to eat in hours, so I didn’t vomit. Next, I felt electricity going through my arms and it scared the hell out of me. I was lying in bed shaking in pain and wondering what the fuck was happening. Then I heard myself cry again as a little boy in severe pain! I realized at that moment I was reliving torture. I could not believe what I was experiencing. I sent an email to Duncan and Miranda asking them if it was possible to relive pain. I knew a person could recall memories or emotions, but I wasn’t for sure if an individual could relive pain. Miranda responded and said a person could relive pain as it’s an impulse from the brain. After reading her response, I realized I had just relived MK Ultra torture. I can’t believe the luciferians in government could ever do this to a child. I knew there was corruption, but this is really fucked up!
The dreams of expert combat fighting and killing people etc. all started making sense. I remember day dreaming in my early twenties before falling asleep about being a sniper. I had a black militarized uniform and I would be called out at all hours of the day and night. I remember not being comfortable with this idea of killing people and didn’t understand where those thoughts were coming from. I eventually forced myself to quit having those images in my head. Then there’s the dreams of conjuring demons and sex magick. I’ll save that lovely information for another post.