The Truth is Hard to Swallow

The room is dark. Curtains, double-thickness, are closed. Windows are shut. Lights are off. No illumination in the room except for the glowing potion swirling in the glass on the floor before me as I face east.

I gazed at it, with wariness. What would happen when I lifted this viscous liquid to my lips? I wondered. What was going to happen to my mind or body? The recipe for the potion was called “Truth”. I had no idea what it meant, but I was willing to try anything at this point.

What had lead me to the point of wanting the “Truth”? Well, I am an individual who has been targeted by the Freemasons and the Illuminati, not for any fault of my own, except for a pure soul. These people are evil. Somehow, they have gained control of the minds of the majority of the population so these creeps and the people I call their “slaves” bully me and try to use Neural Linguistic Programming on me.

This NLP does not work and hasn’t for a long time, but these people are so stupid they can not see that. Their orders come through as requests. Thing is, I don’t play for team evil, so they don’t have the right to ask me to do things. Anyway, I have already given them my response. A firm “No”. That is a negative response, before you, mind controlled slave that you are, have it re-translate in your head because of your programming.

I’ve told them what needs to happen for that “No” to turn into a “Yes”, but these people don’t seem to be able to listen or use conscious and critical thinking. Regardless, they have actually chased my “Yes” response away to the point that even if they came to the table and were willing to negotiate, my response would still be negative.

Thing is, I want to know the “Truth” as to why they did this to me. They give me so many conflicting answers and reasons and accusations of things they know I’ve never done, but never an honest response. Maybe that is what this potion will reveal.

I lifted the glass to my lips and gulped down the foul tasting liquid. It burned my throat and sloshed in my belly with an unpleasant sensation. The experience was terrible. I guess that is the thing about the truth, it can be hard to swallow, literally.

A light appeared in my head. I felt it all coming on, as I had in the past. I was getting a vision. I’ve had visions before. A vision is where you see in your mind the reality of a situation. I could tell it wasn’t from the evil forces because the energy of evil wasn’t there.

I saw myself in a giant room, one where you could not see the walls or a roof. There were cages, small ones, all around me, for as long as the eye could see. Inside these cages were my tormentors. I saw hands reaching through the bars, trying to grasp at me. I recognised all these faces. My family and the things I birthed were some of them. One thing was certain, they were all in cages.

All sorts of things were yelled at me. I heard their requests. Instead of responding, I stayed silent. They kept saying that I was in prison, in a cage, in chains, in bondage, yet I saw very clearly that I was not. They were the ones in prison.

My perspective shifted. These people were focused on me and me alone. They were focused to the point of obsession. I didn’t bother telling these people that they were in cages and because of their focus I understood why they thought it was me in prison. It was because of their focus on me, that they could only see one side of their cage. They were not willing to take their eyes from me for long enough to see that it was themselves encircled by bars. Something I noticed about their cages, they had a door, and the door was not locked.

I walked through these cages tolerating their filth, their evil words, their curses, their evil wishes. I would walk behind a cage here or there to open the door enough for the inhabitant to see the way out for themselves. There was pure animosity as people would grab their cage doors and shut them, protecting their incarceration from freedom.

I realised that they were not attacking me from a point of empowerment, but a place of disempowerment. Because there was so many, all agreeing with each other, it seemed overwhelming. The “Truth” was, I had my freedom to walk amongst these people, and they had the ability to take their freedom. I guess for people who have been caged all their lives it would be terrifying to step out from their cage with me, and find themselves the subject of the ridicule of prisoners.

In an instant, the vision was over. I was grateful. This vision aligned with other visions that I had had in the past, from God. All versions of the truth. All variations of the same. I pondered what I had witnessed.

The fact is, those cages represent many things. They represent the mind control of the masses, which most people don’t realise until they meet someone like me. Then they hate that someone like me because I have mental liberation (not enlightenment, but on the path thereof). They don’t exactly realise they are prisoners of programming, but they understand subconsciously that there is a difference between the way our minds works. I work on mindfulness (mostly) and conscious thought. Most people operate on triggers that have been programmed in them since in the womb.

Those cages also represent conformity, not to good, but to being like everybody else. People don’t want to stand on the outside of the cages, because that is a level of liberation that comes with its own burdens. But those burdens are worth it when it comes to mental liberation.

That cage is also a metaphor for addictions. Whether its an addiction to alcohol, watching sport, or being a bully. The addiction doesn’t matter. Freedom from addictions is a wonderful thing, but it also brings you into being fully accountable. Most people are secretly terrified of being accountable.

I was in a cage, at one point, but the door was always open. The light of Jesus coaxed me from my cage, though I was very clever when I was exiting my cage, pretending every step of the way to be under the influence of mind control, while dealing with it beneath the surface where others could not notice. It came as a shock to the people who had me under mind control for me to put my foot down and evolve into a better human being than they could ever be. I will not be re-entering that cage, for any purpose or for any reason.

What I do understand is the “Truth” that I am not a prisoner, but I seem like a prisoner to the prisoners. The prisoners are so focused on me they can not see the other sides of their cage. And this is why I get that particular storyline from these people.

A note to people. The storyline shouldn’t change. In my situation, these people are always changing the reason as to why they are stalking and bullying me. I never get a straight answer. There is always a different reason as to why this has been done. A changing narrative like this is a very good indicator that not a single part of it is the truth.

Have a beautiful day.