I walked into the room. Each person struck the pose that they had been programmed, groomed, conditioned and trained to by the Elite. These poses were supposed to mean something to me. The only thing it meant is I was dealing with easily trained monkeys. A couple people grabbed their nose, another person grasped at their neck, three people rubbed their chin, three others covered an eye with a hand, the remained shoved their hands in their pockets and stared at their feet.
It is weird being the only living person in a room full of plastic people. What is a plastic person? Someone who is putting on an act. You see, you can’t fool some one who reads energy like I can. There is a difference between free-flowing movement and an act. These aren’t highly trained and paid Hollywood actors. These are people at the bottom of the pyramid trying to trigger me so that they can get a payday.
Sorry. It’s not going to happen. If you want that sort of dosh, get out their and prostitute your own selves. I have morals.
I listen, nod, smile, say the appropriate words, remain mostly silent and always observant. The only people I can communicate with in the room are the baby and kind of the dog. The baby and the dog each have an agenda they share with me, food. Unlike the dog and the baby, I think for myself, I am an outsider, and that isn’t such a bad thing when you think in terms of eternity.
I reflect and am ever so grateful I don’t associate with my own family. For want of a better alibi, I now say my two oldest children were murdered by their father and the youngest killed himself. In a way, its all true. It brings me closure to think like this about a family who was more comfortable with lying about me for personal gain than to mourn people who I don’t love and who don’t love me.
What brought this about in my children? I don’t know. They lived most of their lives with their fathers, not by my choice, and believed the brainwashing they underwent. It is amazing to think that people that I loved passionately and protected as children turn around and do this to me. Glad they are dead.
The stalkers carry on with their bs. I don’t have a choice in the matter, I’m lodging with one of them. I have to be out there, in the lounge, for Christmas dinner, and smile and be kind while they all do their best to wish evil upon me. I would love to know why these people were so quick to attack someone they didn’t know in the beginning and someone who has never done them wrong. It’s sad.
Do I hate them? No. I don’t have any feelings for them one way or the other. I am puzzled, ever curious, as to how society has devolved to this level. Why are the masses so ignorant and can do this to a good person who is just trying to live their life. I’ve been through enough. I was abused in all forms as a child. I have been abused in all forms as an adult. Not once have I ever seen one dollar of compensation and not once have I ever had a fair go.
Christmas has become a mockery of my Lord Jesus Christ. People have commercialised the date of the birth of one of the most enlightened beings to ever visit this planet. People have committed sacrilege. People celebrate the day but give no real thought to the values and morals this incredible being delivered to humanity. How can people be so shallow?
I don’t see a good future for the human race, at all. This stalking business is a huge problem. A society that stalks, hounds, traffics, makes fun of, rapes and beats up a person minding their own business is a society that has within itself the seeds of its own destruction. I don’t expect most people to read my words and think critically, self assess and analyse themselves and the situation. Most people aren’t like that.
Most people don’t think about the consequences of their actions until it hits them and unless it is something huge that has a definite link to the action they can not see the cause and effect. Karma doesn’t exactly work like that and neither does God. The idea is to be a good person, not be a bad person until you are caught and then pretend to be good, while all the time being evil.
I’m trying to fill up 1000 words so I can publish this story and I feel like I have already spoken my piece. It’s been a long 50 years of this being stalked business for me. I wish that people would just let it go. I will always want to know what a baby did to deserve being treated like this. I will always want to know if the stalking will ever stop or if I will have to live my entire life around plastic people who are trying to mess me over so they can hustle a dollar they haven’t earned. The people running the show are supposed to be guiding humanity towards a better outcome. If they had any sense between their dollars they would call off, not only my stalking campaign, but stalking campaigns globally.
Why? Because Karma does exist and so does God. There is not a person or group alive on this planet who is exempt from Karma. Karma and God don’t care about money, or status and Karma and God don’t move based on smear campaigns and fake evidence.
As I wander out to eat the rest of Christmas dinner, I look forward to falling asleep in Gods energy, once again, knowing that through his strength and the mercy and glory of his son Jesus Christ that I will push through, keep my own mind, and remain a decent person.
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