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-o-O-o-Fantasia-o-O-o- Fair Maiden

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10.1.16 5:00 am

Is this how easy it is? To slip back into those old slippers?

Wore them a long time ago here. I bet all the old names are gone. Bet they all grew up and got jobs and decided not to be hardcore pretend dicks after all.

Anyway. I'm back. I think i'm using this place cos noone knows me here. Too many people know me in real life. I don't know what thats about because i'm actually a recluse. Unintentionally. I just don't have a life. Don't get out. I intend it to change. But i'm a divided person. Keep morally warring with myself which dictates my every day.

So tonight. Yeah lets get started on tonight.

I was in bed, bored as fuck. (I don't usually swear but i'm going to tonight. For syntax sake) So i was laying there with those eyes that i don't see anyone else get. A sort of tired ugly look that only i can achieve.

Massive puffed up eyes and mascara all under them. I was so exhausted. But i was fed up. Some mad MENTAL girl who's full on EATING my ex alive is currently at war with me through fake profiles she's made on facebook. My tendency is to block her each time. You know these southern girls who can't articulate and really need to get a guy and worship him because it's all they have. I think love is the greatest. The south has it right in establishing relationships as top priority. But the sheer lack of career motivation amongst girls in the south states of america leaves too much room for cat fights and straggly hair. I don't need that. So she's chasing me up even though i've not spoken to this (so much more than) best friend of 5 years, for a few months. At first it was highly interesting and amusing to see her talk. Like a specimen. But.. weirdly..

Yeah weirdly. Honestly... it's funny how our emotions are controlled by hormonal reactions outwith our logical control (great book to read which will teach you about this is "Emotional Intelligence" by Daniel Coleman. I 'found' that book in a charity shop by following Jesus exact "left... left .. right.. stop!" instructions. He literally told me exactly where to go in a massive library area of books. But i wasted His time and looked through them all for 20 minutes anyway. And it was STILL this one that i ended up with. Even though He told me to go straight to that number of that row on that table within seconds. Yeah. So.. weirdly enough we humans can't control our amygdalas too easily. And it leads us to react with impulse faster than logic.

This impulse made me hurt. Even though this mad mental ex'es girl is a right midden and needs none of my polished time. Because i'm disappointed that a kindred spirit of mine (a true fleck of my soul) has gone and relinquished me to resonate with her. We could have been something.. You know. Something real. I'm talking bonnie and clyde. He's different. And she's just a typical southern streak of insecure simpleness. She's probably actually nice. Just... seriously simple. I hate that.

So i'm there in my bed, scoring through tinder, with vocal commentary to every face i swipe no to. And it was dawning on me.. in that moment. .. that i'm just bored. I'm letting my youth slip by, STILL, to ... i have no fucking idea. I actually don't know which planet i've been on. But i'd had enough of it tonight. It dawned on me by the way she'd hurt me by providing a link between me and bubba, only to be an idiot link - deliberately talking ABOUT him to me, in actual embarrassing pride and ignorance *____* This actual base DNA carrying being who is like my second skin somewhere out there. And this .. secondary level human with only half layer thinking she's boss. Aw God. You know i can't be doing with that.

I was thinking. Why am i sitting in gaining amusement by this? Why am i waiting for her baited reply just to shred her insecurity a little bit further in? It's cos i'm bored. And i'm not in touch with my DNA counterpart out there any more.

These types have names. We were first donned as "lumiere". I was. By StrAngel. But he can go hang until he comes on his knees to me. I had to contemplate this title. He said it was because i was a light in the darkness. I began to understand his title for me. And i noticed how some people ARE lumieres. Auroras. Beacons. SOME people. Just SOME.

And those types are completely different from your average. Their lives are completely spotlighted with weird coincidence. As if they are being monitored or directed by metaphysical forces. They act in wisdom they don't know they hold. They do things they don't realize are massive butterfly effects to whole crowds of people. There's something about these individuals. They never chose to be this way. They just are. Chosen.

And we all have parts to play in this life. On this earth. So don't let anyone think less of you if you are a humble pilgrim who eases through and understands his moral conscience without needing to feel like being someone big. I am jealous of the content and 'normal' folk. I'm riddled with weird, affected experience. It's like my life is more puppeted by extreme forces than it is moved by me.

So i looked at my scruffy face and curl frizzled hair in the mirror tonight and said "yes" .. "you will go out.. you'll regret this if you don't". And i made myself call that taxi.. dress in simple nightclub gear, and i put my makeup on.. redid that face. I left the house THEN called my mum to tell her she had to babysit my one year old. I heard her arguments with me down the phone and told her i couldn't listen to her anymore. And from that moment on i was free.

Free to fucking exist in a place where noone knew me. Oh God it was refreshing.

Just the stupid, rave style music, DJ'd by someone who cared. The drinks and the dresses. People dressed up like they cared. But me being indistinguishable even among them. I came to the door without even having ID. I blagged my way in. I just lifted my arms up and looked to the front of that hall.. that massive room of people.. and zoned out to the music.

Infact if i take it back to the start i went upstairs and threw back 2 jager bombs and a vodka coke and watched some guy on acid dance in the rock room. Then i realized the barman was hitting on me.. and the music got too happy. So i left. I went downstairs.. and i moved in amongst the crowds to be my own person. And i loved it. Everything. The noise. The youth. The ignorance. The messy makeup. The fat on the girls. The curious singing of the guys. Every guy seemed to be singing.. howling into the air.

I loved it. And as if.. life is THAT easy. I found a group of people just like me.. all in a circle.. out of nowhere. The just opened the circle and adopted me in while i danced alone as if i were in phuket. And i noticed they all had THEE SHIT sense of humour. So i goaded them and played with until we were all howling too. We made moves and sang and acted out the seriousness of each song as if we were fucking amateur west end production christmas night out team. We DID it. Loved it.

What could go wrong with this night? I thought.. nothing.. as long as i wasn't a shit and let some pleb guide me into thinking they could steal my precious time. So that's why even though this bulgarian semi pretty boy found me and had eyes for me with some MAJOR affectionate dancing on the floor.. i refused his kisses multiple times and we ended up parting. But it was even fun when we danced. No regrets. He lifted me up so high above the sea of people. I'd pose and give royal waves and i had the time of it. Let him lift me so high, and dance with me, spinning me and pinning me. But i didn't like the way he just wanted to kiss without any connection. I hate that. Weak kisses.

You know what the teenage mutant ninja turtles swim past in the sewers when they're off to get a pepperoni pizza from splinter the rat in pipe 309? They fucking swim through jobbies and general water poured off boiled carrots, and other flushed nonsense like posh mens pee, and slobbers OH AND WEAK VOMMY KISSES FLOATING WORSE THAN SPORES OF MOULDY FAT.

Anyway. He left me so i was like.. clean break dude. Rejoice. And i bantered on my merry way. Took my time to check myself in the ladies toilets mirror. Jakester. My makeup had slidden, i virtually had no makeup by this point. I don't look pretty without makeup.

I'm being serious. I look like a haggis kilt wearing piece of shit. Compared to fucking max factor glasgow girls that is. Honestly. I don't know what planet i came from. So i was looking at my complete potato face, and complaining to the gals next to me, when some chubby ass cellulite fat pretty thing came up to me with a brown fake tan face and amazing hair, and told me repeatedly i looked beautiful. I didn't need QVC to order her chat - i was buyin it. She was just the thing i needed. Her little orange face and love, made me want to be orange too. And i thought.. yes.. i'm going to fake tan soon. My white, pale maiden skin has to go. I need to be wonderful and outrageous like her. She was trying to get me in the VIP lounge with her friends who were celebrating a bday. But i said.. "they're shocking"! She said they were all gay. They were all lifting each other off the floor and dirty dancing together. I was like..

I need another drink.

Meanwhile.. on this new floor, which wasn't the rock attic, or the main rave hall - it was the rnb hip hop room.. i was observing who was around me. And there were many plebs of fine fettle. So many. I looked around. I saw pleb after pleb. Some boys were even sitting in their alcove doing serious stunt worthy hand actions to rapper shit. I was like.. "What is this grotto den of hidden awesome wonkiness; of mice and men and IDIOTS that i transpire to meander through. What yonder window breaks." I still needed my drink.

I only wish i'd been able to give personal commendations and possibly dance with that ash blonde boy who was too effed to give a cocks crow as he sat in the corner of his booth and arm hand actioned his way into self sufficient paradise. But it was the other one, the actual eejit skitey big boy with serious intent who went for me and pretty much had me on him from them on. For the rest of the night. By this time it was about the last hour anyway.

We were just joking at the bar. By joking i mean.. throwing things everywhere and shouting and grabbing each others faces. He was so irritating, i couldn't get served. I was sobering up. I'd drank here and there throughout the night, but this was dismal. I was resorting to turning into a level 10 fool on him just to get things sped along and try regain some self preservation. But he wasn't on it. He was on me.

He kept telling me he worked for morgan stanley. Ok so he told me like one or two times within a few seconds to inform why he was out, but i rolled with it and went fucking mental in his face about morgan stanley. I know some other girl who works there. And i think there must have been some kind of sugar still in my veins, because i just created a riot with him and his homies about it. Whatever. I think he found it absolutely hilarious that i didn't give a shit who he was.

Good.

So then he probably asked about me. And i gave him nothing. I just kept getting irritated that i couldn't get a drink. By which time he'd called ME irritating, and was getting into me big time. Shut up. Piss off. I mean.. just don't turn out to be a fop, ok.

But he wanted to use his elite physical aggression to hit on me now. And he began to open up. I found this soooo weird.

I asked his name. He asked mine. I told him. Iona. But he didn't let on he knew more until some good few minutes had passed. And then he took me so aback. He told me my full name and that he'd met me 4 years ago.. for just a brief moment somewhere. He said "you're mega religious aren't you, you're into being holy". I was astounded. I was still taking the piss and generally acting like a ferret. But yeah.. he knew who i was and i couldn't pin point him. How had he met me? Surely i would have remembered him. 4 years ago?

He dragged me away from that bar, which had given us little reward, and we went back up to the rave hall. This time it was something else as an experience. We danced like we were hoodlum animals. We honestly owned the floor and had no decorum. I undid his belt and tried to rip open his jeans. I flashed my bra at one point too. He lifted me up over and over above the masses.. again. And he'd dry fuck me mid air with my legs round him as we messily kissed like two frogs doing time in jail. We made no sense. This kind of mess.. i get.

My shoes are downstairs in the hall right now. They're filthy. They prove what kind of a night i've had. It was awesome. Me and this Christopher boy were such high energy fools. Lumiere? I dunno. I don't think so. But don't you think it's weird that in a club .. on a random, rainy january night (I haven't been to this club for YEARS and decided tonight that i'd have enough waiting around shit), in glasgows sauchihall st of many many venues.. this stocky, brown eyed predator had all my background info, and recognized me as a girl he saw for only an hour or so before... that many years gone by. I asked him with a moment of sheer disbelief if he remembered everyone like this. And he said no.

So i ripped his face apart with kisses. And we drank more shots, and more vodka, and we scuffed about the floor in the middle of squirming, toppling mobs of youngsters. Aw i forgot to tell you what happened earlier on tonight. Hm.. do i have to get into that now? It gets so complicated. Ugh. My clothes were already pulled off by another guy i'm close to who i'd inadvertently made horny when we went out to the shopping mall together, I DIDN'T MAKE HIM HORNIE OKAYYYYIE, just because i was wearing a decent new bra which actually freaking supports my breasts for once. Boobs. That's all some men need. But claimed me to be sexy. And when he drove me home he used the ruse of putting my little one to bed to bed me. I never knew that's what he wanted until he closed my bedroom door and took me up against my bedroom wall.

You know.. i'd much rather that ex with the psycho girlfriend was my bed partner. We actually had chemistry. This guy is just like.. a sensible, handsomey looking, all round nice, mummys boy type needing mothered, over organised simple to please phd student. From england. You know the oxford lifestyle when it's leaked into working class wit. That mix. You know. But anyway.. i felt kinda hollow after that loving experience. Because he was utterly turned on and lost his mind on me.. but even after it was all done.. i wondered how he'd gotten away with it.. and why i never came. I never do with him. Even though i care. He's just not my prince. Not my rough DNA.

So back to me on the dancefloor with this morgan stanley guy. Christopher. I guess i was having flashbacks to earlier which motivated me to break free even more. We just both /wanted/ to let go.

And i could feel that Christopher was somewhere in the region now of actually caring about me protectively. I dunno.. i hugged him a few times. Hid my face in his neck between snaps of reality. And he played the male role.

And we scuffed about till the very end. We'd made every effort to be a menace of a duo within that closely populated edge of the dancefloor. the lights went up.. and we, like everyone else.. headed to the foyer and stairs, where streams of people who were LOUD began to congregated. When i say this was a scene, i mean it.. these people were absolutely HOWLING and CHANTING together. They sang SO many songs together in the stair well that you couldn't think or breathe. Christopher drunkenly repeated over and over that it wasn't safe. That it was too out of control. Every man was yelling into the air. All in waves of unison as new songs spread. It was weird. Staff had no chance in cooling it with them. Their voices and barrier arms were knocked and drowned out. On this rubbishy cold night.. did i experience something that never happens there? Was this a "moment" .. a memory? A moment in time that only those who were there can talk about now in awe, because it's never happened like that before, and wont again soon? I'm telling you, guys were filming it on their phones. There had to be hundreds of us, couldn't move, packed on the stairs. Stuck. Screaming and singing and stamping and chanting. I just wrapped christophers arms around me and focused out.

I had that oxymoronic return to innocence that i'd lost in the progression of the night. On the rock floor in the attic level, when i'd first walked in.. i'd stood with my drink by a barrel in a corner.. clapping to a group of girls dancing to metal music. Those same girls i'd spoken to later in the toilets.. i was showing one of them my boring cesarean scar which has ruined my body's looks i think. And obvs after that i got sweatier and sweatier till chris and i were smearing and wiping our pheromones away from each others temples. Slippy. But in that stairwell.. the sweat still there, he catered for me protectively, and my white cotton top symbolized my quietness and meekness in the face of this out of count crowd.

We stepped into the rain.

My small brown leather jacket, zipped right up to the neck like it was when i first stepped in the club. The rain heavily pelting through my loosed, messed hair.

And the pavements were strewn with all kinds of sodden, trodden figments of litter. Everything was washed and pulped to mere strands of things, on this densely packed street of people. You had to look where you stood on the uneven concrete slabs of pavement. Homeless people, flower sellers, drunk folk. Rammy. And i called the taxi driver who'd taken me in, on the personal number he'd given me when he first had me in his car. He swore he'd come back for me as soon as i'd call him. I was pretty impressed. He'd been a good, careless chat on the way there. So here was me, and christopher.. the guys friend, messing around on sauchihall st, waiting to get our taxis. And we were trying all to make sense of each other. And the queues kept forming and we kept getting into them, then stepping out of them and walking half a street away in one direction and half a street back. It was funny to mock general people watching situations at first, but then the rain drained me a bit, and i began to insist i had to stand at my waiting point. My battery was on 1% and had died already as i was revving it awake to make sure i'd get the call back from my taxi man (in his pimped up racer style car.. :/ ) So anyway.. christopher said he'd never see me again, he'd bet. And i was like... "till next time", cos they found their uber taxi after all that, and i insisted they get in and leave me be. Its nice to see a gent who cares. It should be the done thing, but it's nice to be able to turn down the offer because i know i'm in a good place security wise. So i let them go.

And i got in the racer car taxi. And he asked if he could pick up his friend on her way home from work too, and i was all cool with it. So a stripper waitress got in and talked to him all the way back to my town, and my fayer wasn't so high for that. And i spent too much money tonight anyway. Throwing it all away was worth it. I got in, after i'd rang my mums mobile and had her answer the door for me at 4 am. Put those filthy shoes in my hallway. Came up the stairs. Tidied my ransacked room (when i'd gotten read for the club in 5 mins), and took a long hot shower. Washed the rain out my hair. But i swear i can still taste christophers kisses. He had healthy mouth breath. Thats my favourite smell and taste. It's something hard to put down in words. Like an afterscent on the breath.

Wanna know what the even more bomb shitzle thing is? I got a message from an unknown number on my 0% battery life left phone while in that taxi on the way home.. saying "sorry to fucking leave you out in the rain". I never fucking gave that guy my number. He'd still kept it from 4 years ago. When he met me in a moment i don't even remember. He could tell me my full name, my character traits and personality. And he still had my number stored.

Well damn mi darned socks. That was no night of coincidence.

Stay tuned for another episode of.. ionas mental world. xx

Signing out.
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-o-O-o-Fantasia-o-O-o- Fair Maiden

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1.1.2018 I am always here. Beholden to new and old years as if my skin had not shed a cell. Memory is like a film reel i have just freshly developed. Change cannot change me, see my eyes. I have written and written in my mind as if churning out memoirs of my own Gatsby. But they have been kept; save them being laid bare to give more stone throwers power. Not one inch is bruised. Not a crack on the porcelain. My flesh was always half injured grass as fielded you could ever find such stuff. Just as we are all smelted spelt without the masks we craft to negotiate place in this realm. A simple mask have i. Not pure. Wavering. Some blush.

The inner glow shows brightly though, below both rouge and beyond the tufted tare. And i thank God in my being that it is there. Psalm 124 says that Satan has laid a trap; that no man can escape his jaws. Oh the flesh is scored! Now learn, accordingly, that luminescence is unquenchable and Yahweh is in me. There Satan so flounders. And so i will always be. Never snuffed. Never bruised.

For i do not count my referred to self as flesh. Nor the made-up version of my flesh. I will always speak of "i" as fledgling. When eternity after earth is scrolled, comes, then my age will begin.

I am Lumiere. I am always.

Then sometimes here.
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They shall love me.

2.1.18

I drink wine, unlike me, tonight, as a beautiful, gentle sleeping mask. It, and the sound of worship melody is gracing me into the next day. Eva-Rose returns to nursery tomorrow. After the fight to get her there against her will, i will have a mere 2 hours of freedom, and oh how freedom tastes so free even if given for a minute. Time does not factor into freedom. I just need enough to stand alone empty handed.

I have cried tonight. There is a man above me who has a bed to weak for him. He has taken a girl and made her happy. The walls shook. Is this how i really deserve to be christened for having taken the daunting, near impossible mission of moving out as a single parent, still sick, to a private let flat?

I do not seek a man. I do however seek love. I know wherever i go, the chapel flame in me stops pilgrims in their tracks; those who i would least suspect beg time of me for long periods. I know i have those pilgrims and faithful blood surrounding me. But when for the days where i will leap with energy? Where the beaten track will have been made by mine own foot alone?? Oh Lord i petition thee. Without any burnt sacrifice to recommend me. Cept my own heart. I have tasted the bitter waters at Mara. I know and taste the dream also when i flee. Wont You let me flee, oh my God. To Petra.

Where the fountain of youth and flooding of grace will come so quickly to those who seek. I drink wine. It is my abated selfishness and my repentant communion, while i cling my tight fist around my world. I need to run.

To run as i used to. To run far - over fallen trunk and running river, through thicket and field. Past the withered sheath.

Iona, beloved.
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3.1.2018

I don't sleep well at night. In lasts nights post i mentioned the bitter waters of Mara. I opened my Bible straight after typing it up, and it fell open at that passage. But God took told Moses to take a hyssop branch and throw it into the water which made it good to drink. Hyssop is actually medicinal that way. Look it up. Anyway. I liked how God was listening. I read on and learned that God then led his people from there to a place called Elim, which had 12 palm trees? And 77 pools? Something like that. God, i know, was telling me that Elim is next for me after my suffering. But.. for one who does suffer.. Elim seems so far away, more like a dream or notion.

In the here and now, who or what is my hyssop? I need that branch. I prayed in tongues last night and it pleased God. I went to the spa today and monitored my time there to be back for Eva-Rose, who tore me back to a hopeless state so soon after meeting, with her need to be carried, her tantrums, her peeing on everything. So tired beyond words, inside. Outside. I was lying there in the spa, watching my vision turn off as i went blind for moments in the Chinese salt room. I lay and lay in these rooms; never moving, or coming out of my constant state. Passive communication with my thorough thoughts; knowing myself well. Shutting down to the feel of surveyed, held to knowledge, docking into my minds port once more. That vast silent water. I was lost in steam and sweat. My eyes vacant - lonely. And when i washed my long, platinum hair behind the frosted glass of my spa cubicle, i realised i was frowning deeply while exercising this ritual. My face was aching out a terribly visible emotion. Like something from before the talkies.

My flesh and my lumiere suffer together. One brings hope while the other is as a dead skin, sustained until it is to be transformed.

I read this (see quote) also today. I am part of a group of people who believe there are 144 thousand mantles that God will bestow to members of His bride for work after the rapture. We also believe we will be visibly transformed during the prophesied coming days of darkness. God spoke to me personally about this matter and then i began to find those who He had revealed the same information. Don't trust me for truths, only God. See how my mask shows me on an altar like a carved idol there in my image. Be careful of my flesh which craves worship. I am not here to be seen as an above being. I am a wretched being. I only wish to portray what i experience from above. I find the lumiere dimension's involvement in my journey, unfolding in traces, relieving to discover, etch by etch. You can call me an intriguing mad woman, but that page did fall open at Mara. And when i decided to write this post, i checked the clock and it turned 01:44 am.

New Message from Julie (note last paragraph)

Vision received Dec. 28, 2017

I was out in the country, a great distance from populated areas with a medium sized group of people. All my family was there, along with some familiar people from the town I live in, and some I did not recognize at all.

I suddenly realized that Yahushua was in this place with us, and He was talking individually with people. I was frantic to get to Him, and ran to where I knew in my spirit He was. He was talking with a young man in a room sitting at a table. I stood just outside of the door which was open, not wanting to interrupt, but desperately wanting my turn with Father! Yahushua was light-hearted and smiling, laughing and at ease talking with this young man. I could hear His voice as He was talking and was so curious as to what He would talk about with me.

When He was done, He stood up and came out the door towards me. I thought I would explode from the excitement of not only seeing Him so closely, but now having the opportunity to hug Him! It has been my heart's desire since, well, forever for me! As He saw me, He smiled and closed His eyes and sighed "aahh," as I lunged for Him, and He wrapped me up very tightly. I literally felt myself melting into Him, and I knew Our hearts were One and Our spirits were merged. He held me for the longest time, and everything else in the world simply evaporated and ceased to exist, all in an instant. He gently stroked my head and softly whispered, "You know it's going to be alright." The peace and sense of security was indescribable. I was home, and I knew the unconditional, eternal love from my King and Messiah. Finally, after several long minutes that I didn't want to ever end, He released me and asked me to walk back outside with Him because He had things to show me.

We walked back to the hill where I originally found myself at the beginning of the vision, and He pointed to the ground in front of us and said, "Watch this." Just then, the ground opened up and became a very large pool of sorts, beautiful, shimmering, pure as crystal and what is most closely described in our terms as a 'royal bluish metallic liquid' undulating back and forth. There aren't words to describe the texture or characteristics other than supernatural and unlike anything of this world. He then said, "get in" and He dove into the water Himself. As He came up, He was laughing and then told me to follow. I went in and instantly felt the weight of my body as well as all the cares of this world suddenly disappear, and I was flooded with a peace and sense of security and love once again that is not like anything I've ever experienced here in this world. I was full of joy, light and energized, strengthened and more alert in my mind than ever before.

Yahushua gave me the understanding in my spirit that this was not my complete transformation, but rather the outpouring of strength that is coming very soon to His remnant people to prepare us for what is upon us, before He brings us home. The others I was with were coming now and everyone started to immerse themselves in this pool of living water. He then got out of the water, completely dry, and asked me to do the same as He pointed towards the sky. He said to me, "Now, watch this." There were very disturbing sounds like groaning and gates creaking and metal bending under the earth, and the earth started shaking. At the same time, I heard a distressing sound in the atmosphere, most closely resembling an explosion of sorts, but nothing like what we know as a conventional weapon here. The atmosphere was 'morphing' and it somehow seemed as if the elements were melting or fusing and the thought instantly came to me that this was some type of nuclear event, although I am not certain exactly what this was. Then black smoke filled the air, as I saw fire and the smoke filling the entire sky around us, very, very quickly turning the day into almost night.

Yahushua gave me the understanding again, without the need for words, but through my heart, that the immersion in the pool was His gift to His people who are His Bride to prepare us for what we will experience for a short time before we are completely transformed and brought home. He allowed me to know that we will experience destructive events, and He also told me that many, many people will die. I sensed His sadness at how many, and how unprepared they will be when they die, because they did not heed His warnings to prepare, nor did they accept Him as their Messiah. Those that are His, however, will be protected under the shelter of His wings, and He will be walking through this with us. The events I'm told will happen extremely quickly, as He has spoken and prepared us for in many other messages.

I then wanted to ask Him if this event He had just showed me was the event that brings about the three days of darkness, and He shook His head, no. This was a separate event, and this one He showed me was the first to occur. The arrival of a planetary body bringing about the darkness is a separate event/judgment. He told me again, as He has in the past, that during these three days of darkness when the planetary body arrives, the Bride will experience the complete transformation, and those who have been ordained to stay and minister for a short time will do so after this transformation. His Bride then comes home to the Kingdom, as His wrath will be poured out upon the earth.

His last words to me were, "All these things are here, upon you, but I am also here with you always and will carry you through it all."

End of dream.

As with anything, please take this to Father and pray for discernment, revelation and interpretation.

Shalom,

Julie

*Note* Please check back in as I am working on posting another message with video that I received December 21, 2017.
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24.1.18

I would rather not exist, and this is coming from someone who believes in heaven. I see heaven as being unfit for existence while any other alternate reality, dimension or parallel universe exists, geographically, or in state of conscious energy, where any form of non perfection exists. Heaven is not heaven where there is hell next door. For one who knows of hell, no measure of oxytocin, or justification of justice by endless torture is able to remove the knowledge that anywhere God is not, is acceptable. God created a multiverse that He gave free will to. And it has ... i don't comprehend this... it has chosen to break the law of perfection. I cannot comprehend God's curses on the land; that man should toil, and on women that they should lay in pain for a child. God Himself removed perfection and ordered pain. He ordered pain with His Old Testament law to stone people to death. He ordered pain to Jesus. And even after Jesus there is still pain. I... i would rather none of us existed than what God did to Jesus to pay for what we have done to each other.

Jesus said "It is finished." But He also said the world would hate us as it hates Him. Us being those who submit to God. It will be finished when the lake of fire does not exist.

I write this in a positive mental state - nothing lurking behind my reasoning, but the average droll of life and it's nips. It is half 1. I have to get up tomorrow.

The wisest man on earth (who by the way, had 2000 wives without being stoned - which is a contradiction to the law is it not?), said "all is vanity".

I will wake up tomorrow and enjoy smaller things like my bleached hair colour, and... the feel of my fluffy rug under my bare feet. But after that i can only conclude i am not intelligent enough to feel purpose to the point of being connected to this matrix. I am no scientist, however much i congratulate the discipline science negates. I am no philanthropist or movement maker. I am of little use at the moment. I am not quite sure why i was brought into all this. Just to witness it. I am not interested in witnessing it. I don't need the rise of bitcoin. I don't need music. I don't need a loving family. I don't need anything but perfection. Which is why i aim for God.

And yet here we are, God has put me here on earth. To try to feel and think as best i can along the lines that other people do, until i'm gone.

"Cortana. How far away is Niburu?"

I believe God will change me. Somehow. Into the girl lumiere.

I don't deserve to be here. Neither did i deserve to be told to live out my droll life till then. Why either? Why both.

Dim vision. Veiled knowledge for reasons He doesn't disclose. I'd rather be a field mouse or better still... nothing. Where is my sight please.

Complete me or end me.

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2.3.18

I sit in a modern, welcoming flat in the west coast of Scotland, in a post industrial town where nothing ever happens now. One day i'll get out, but for now, God keeps putting obstacles in my way. Or allowing them. Semantics. It is half midnight on a thursday, and Elderslie is being chased by "The Beast From The East". This Siberian snow storm has had us under its spell for days. It is supposed to last. Schools, facilities and transport have been cancelled for a while. People have abandoned cars and if they dare go out they buy basic supplies wherever they can find them, and home in when the blizzard strikes a peak; returning back out to talk to neighbours when it quells. Right now i hear that strange blustering, whipping and Vuooooooing, expressing just how cold and hostile it is outside.

Earlier today i ventured out on an errand for my ludicrous friend in the flat diagonally below me. She called to complain to me that her mother had brought her staple groceries. She said she didn't want sensible things. She wanted crap. So i went to buy her some. I trudged to the corner shop and spent £31 on shite. I am forever making cakes and buying sweets and chocolate bars that i stash especially for cupboard raiders that burst into my flat very often. They are like raccoons. My friend was very satisfied with my plunder. I remember a girl in the shop was resentful of my throwing money at such things as vimpto astro bands and burger bite puff crisps and chocolate bars and ice creams. "You must be OFF YOUR NUT", she hissed. She however probably puts money into things i only wish i could, like grand weekends out, cigarettes, clothes.. SECC Hydro gig tickets. My life is dull and quiet. Poetically confined. Don't tell me how to spend my sentence.

I bartered my wit and a snack with a man in the close across from me on my return, and in exchange of a tidbit from my mass of purchased crap, he vowed to pick me some milk up on his drive out. I sarcastically wished him luck on getting out at all. I'd spoken to him earlier while i was attempting to build an igloo. Next thing he was visiting my door and expressing interest in me. And later after that he even brought his daughter to me to introduce her to me. But this man is too old. He is succcessful - a broker. But this isn't what i look for. Where is the long hair? The beautiful charm and light footed playfulness? I seek youth. I seek vibrancy.

Later as the night drew in, i heard what sounded like a child outside, between the sucking and blowing of the snowy whirlwind. Concerned, i moved to the window. Why would a young child be out at 10:30pm in these temperatures? When i looked out i saw a grumpy looking woman slamming the back door of a four by four and getting in the front to drive. As she slammed the doors, something light flickered out and was caught into the air, unseen by them. She drove away into the lamplit distance.

I was fascinated. It was like American Beauty but even more captivating. This wrapper, or whatever it was, frolicked and flickered in the street lamp light, and fluttered through the air so elegantly. I smiled widely, watching it circle and fall; sweeping and lifting again to play higher at rooftop height, only to rest on the ground and swish to and fro once more. It was such a pretty sight. That would have been enough alone.

But then i saw it better in its resting position. It was a strangely perfect rectangle! Could it be? A ten pound note. The new latex plastic type? I believed it was, and so i felt a mad rush of risque and daring, and i decided to do the obvious. I left little Eva-Rose sleeping in her bed and i raced out wearing nothing but my dressing gown, to fetch that plunder. I trod shamelessly barefoot in the stacked up powdered mounds of snow, out onto the icy tire track rink of the road. I laughed and held my gown closed as i tip toed here and there, wondering if it was even still to be found. But there it was! Resting in a cleft of light snow again! I lifted it and kissed it and whispered "I got the money, bitch!" And then i was off the street like the end of someone's confusing hallucination. Reimbursement for the frivolous fun earlier? Who can say.

It is now 1:47 am and the wind is bleak... so bleak noone would survive sleeping rough. I worry for these on our streets. I feel like i've done nothing for them. If God could only move me to donate that note to the Glasgow city mission. If He could prize open my frost bitten hand/heart. I pray for that day when my thought becomes action. Meanwhile i have watched movies, feeling alone and undiscovered. Not even a virgin any more; i'm not the maiden i once was - hoping to find obscure love i could die for. I'm the slightly less desirable version now. I'm apparently still innocent and longing, only this time i have no dowry of mysticism and pale skin. Alright i do. But i tell you it's been touched and tainted and i feel like it is a chain around my neck for life. Like those medical army like keys people wear to warn others. "Damaged Goods".

I mention the time because.. between 12 and 1 am there were youngling adolescents straying up this semi main street on their treks home from the pub. I envied the sparce girls, outnumbered by their male friends. I watched, and hid, and waved back as drunk 20 something year old handsome boys fought and bickered and trooped past, morally rallying each other home. The wind wasn't so up then. I am jealous. I do not want milk errands from those who don't know how to sing and fall along snowy paths. When i bought from that corner shop, the amount of men that had come in to get their girlfriends cravings was ridiculous. And here i was doing it for another without being able to dream of ordering a valiant prince around. Hearing all those who even made it to the drinking hole, let alone managed to stay till the last bell made me jealous of their adventure. I'd do it. If i didn't have Eva i'd go out looking for adventure; chasing it like that fluttering note, with everything to gain. I need faces. I need beautiful faces. They feed me more than anything edible.

I should go to bed. Just know i will lie and listen to the storm outside. I will try to tell myself that i'm lucky to have what i possess at present. But Lord knows, the muting silencing of this storm in our already nowhere town isn't enough to quieten me inside. It only makes my inner echo feel louder.

If the Beast From The East was made of flesh, it let his aggressive nature inside my door. He wouldn't need to fetch me anything to win me.
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19.03.2020

youtube.com/watch?v=pgN-vvVVxMA

It was the summer of 2018. As if it was plenty years ago? It was only 2 years but let me tell you this story. Cos my life is full of stories and none of them make sense but they all hit so real.

I was at a christian summer camp. This one was stiff necked and i was being bullied by the officers for having a runaway 3 year old. My mum was offering the littlest help at all and i wasn't given any room to socialise with peers my own age.

I'd just come back from Majoca where i had horse ridden on beaches and had drunken nights jumping waves. One night i took a young dude by the hand who met me on the shore. I waded him out round buoys fully clothed while he talked about his dad just having died. My friend accused me of kissing him out there. But i didn't. I took him by the hand and waded him into the sea. I want that back.

But it wasn't Majorca Spain any more. It was this tent in the middle of a packed campsite of hundreds of people all ages and i was now more alone than ever. I began to feel excruciatingly suicidal. I told my mum that i was close to doing something stupid. I made a deal with God one of those nights while i was weeping quietly into my sleeping bag. I said to Him that He would have to drag me through and that i was gonna give up. That i wasn't gonna be moral any more. That i wasn't gonna give a fuck any more. I was gonna shut down and go off the rails. It would be up to Him to keep me alive. I was ready to finish it. I was so alone.

And then this drunk idiot was dragged past my tent whether that night or another. All i heard was "mate is that where the fuckin MILF lives?"

I swear i don't even know how we got talking. I don't remember the first moment. I do remember maybe talking to his best friend first, who was the nephew of a devout older couple there on camp. That best friend was an even bigger idiot. One of those clumsy chancers in life who always comes up trumps and has a crackin smile. So this pure looking young adolescent hung out with goofbangs and somehow we got acquainted. He was so quiet in person but his stare penetrated me. He was incredibly tall, and pale. He had these massive hazel coloured eyes. His hair was dark and cut to an exact to reveal the purest jawline. He had a clumsy posture too whenever he felt uncomfortable out his zone, but as soon as he'd stand straight he transformed into someone so powerful just at the flex of his spine.

He took my number and the texts began to flow. He showered me with compliments. He was only 18? 19? He was into me and i couldn't figure out why. I mean i know i was fit with a tan from the island but i was sullen and i kept away from most people. He bore in and wanted to know more. We'd pass by each other in the fields and pretend we didn't know each other, but he was asking more and more every time in messages. He grew affectionate. It was about the most unexpected romantic shit i had ever encountered. We'd still pass by each other and i wouldn't talk to him with any more discrimination than the other boys he was with, and i'd talk to him equally as any other i'd speak to on camp. But it wasn't the few words i said that gave him reassurance. It was the way i'd see him checking his phone often, and then if i looked up, i'd notice him waiting by the marquee, just so i could pass by. So i would. And the eye contact would be enough to make anyone else sick with love.

So he took me to a secluded place. Or rather i asked if we could be as hidden as possible. Just as i had walked the first boy into the water, i walked this young man through an incredibly thin path with tall grasses our height either side, to a style gate, and just past it to a large tree. We were surrounded by forest, on a hill called "Castlehead".

He reached out with his hands and said "com' ere". He had a lancashire accent. Think north england. Think eldest stark brother. He held me to him, and we began to kiss. We were besotted. His shirt was the whitest cotton and there seemed to be endless expanses of it. I really do still love him to this day. I want him to become a christian so i can meet him in heaven. I don't want him to die without me coming to him.

He held me against him and we kissed up against that tree. I felt him swell and i caressed his monochrome lines. His sweetness mingled with obsession... that pure delight he showed won me over. I took him back and we felt this danger from then on, of not being able to hide things as well. I'd be ostracised by the whole camp i i went open with him. I was already a single mum. And i was 31 at the time.

He came more into the circles after that. He ate with people once, and he joined me at a games table for us to do drawing challenges. I just made the game up but there was something about it which became spiritual. Someone challenged everyone at the table to draw an elephant. I was surprised at how good we all were, and i picked a random passer by to judge. He exclaimed that they were his favourite ever thing, and he took great delight in looking at them all. Then picked mine. I was slightly embarrassed to be the winner. So i said... i challenge us all to draw... the perfect circle. We all did the same thing. We swung our pens round the page in the fastest synchronicity our wrists could allow, but they all looked off.

Then this boy, the pure pale boy, placed his hand on the page, holding his pen down, and rotated the page in a perfect circle. I was embarrassed again this time that he was the winner. There was something going on between us. I remember writing a note to him. Saying to open the next one. And i don't remember what was in the one lying beside it. But he kept it in his wallet for months after. So i must have written something bold.

We couldn't take our eyes or minds off each other. And i still miss him.

I'm trying so hard in life. I should keep trying, just to be worthy of his smile those years ago. Still to be worthy of that smile back in time.

We couldn't get away together because i had my kid every second of the day. It was getting more frustrating, and it was obvious as the days went by that i favoured his group above the shallow proselytes who made up the rest of the camp. One afternoon i broke away from a walk with my mum and her friends, to take a breather at the pier. I had asked for some time to just have alone.

I'd messaged him to meet me there. I was so worried that he wasn't turning up. But before i knew it we were sitting together as if we were on a throne for all to see. I'd bought 2 bags of duck food and we fed these things at the end of a pier that felt really stretched out away from other people. We were amazed by these ducks as they'd swim so elegantly, diving under the water for ages without taking a breath. We watched their shimmery feathers and laughed. The ice was breaking a little letting us sit in public. I wanted to kiss him but still didn't like the prying eyes of others. So we sought a private place again. We found this absolutely trashed old stone shed along the shore. It was a tip, and we went behind it and didn't even care. We just touched each others faces and silhouettes. The sunlight streamed in and hit his face so crystal clear in strips. His eyes were so vibrant and precious. I loved every moment. I lifted his shirt to see what was going on underneath it. I'd seen little flecks of his stomach before and i was sold.

I was in shock.

The bottom of what looked like beads lead up as i lifted, to reveal a full rosary tattoo with praying hands, and a nipple piercing above. I was struck. This boy was so badass. I did NOT see that coming. He lifted me so easily to straddle him on the wall even though i felt i was chuncky and bucksome. He laughed and said "I'm strong babeh. I'm a labourer." I felt so chill in his flex and was ready for anything else between us. I could see how senior pensioner hikers were being disturbed by passing us by, getting a nasty fright by discovering us one after the other time and again in passing. But i just wanted this boy for as long as i could have time alone with him. We had a solace.

Back on camp we wanted to get into each others pockets. He was always called away by his friends for cook outs up the hill, and to go to the pub. On the friday night i went to the pub with him after begging my mother for release on the last night. She had no idea i was going with him. I gave my kid to her and broke free. I went to that place and got tipsy with him and his friends. That goof i had told you about was really stressed cos his girlfriend had just been involved in a car accident and was getting screws put in her broken spine. There was this over all sizzling tension of some kind. We're clever people you know. I felt the way i'd respond to them as they spoke, like i had respect and they appreciated me. And this young guy would squeeze my hand harder against his leg if he felt a pinch of jealousy.

We laid together in my tent skin to skin in the early hours of that morning. I knew there would have been people just itching to listen in so to gossip about me the next day. I'm sure i overheard it too. But it was worth it to feel him. To let him enter me even if just for a little while. We'd been in my tent half clothed a few times before, just touching each others bodies like they were gold. I'd machine gun kisses up his neck and cheek and he'd topple me over and pin me down. It was too good. But this last night was so so quiet. Just us feeling the reality of how we were going to be ripped apart.

So i said goodbye to him and we messaged for months. Sexts and pics and i love you all the day every day in messages. It lasted till i finally managed to visit his town in October. I fucking flew down, booked a whole apartment, bought victorias secret and gave him full notice of all this happening.

At first he was so pleased to have me back in his arms. The way he came in the door of my apartment just to grab me and show me that same smile i knew so well and had waited for for months through shared tears, blushes. laughter and open desire.

But something really shitty was getting in there too. His friends were really immature. They wanted a gaff party and just ruined things for our privacy. And he didn't learn the first time. It was like me with the duck food. You set up the scene this time. Why do i need to breaking the ice in your damned town? He never took me out. Why was he trying so hard to get along with my ideas when really he could have just been the one to take MY hand for once. I wanted to dance with him in the same clubs he'd shown me in all his messages. I would have danced for him like an angel. It was something we had in common. Rhythm. I need a guy to take me by the hand and wade me in the water.

He let his friends ruin the privacy between us. He never even saw the victoria secret. I was a bombshell. I had a platinum bob and massive boobs and all i wanted was him and yet he just seemed under pressure from other people without telling them to get to. It got him in a bad mood and he didn't snap out of it. So i got quizzy. I was asking him why i was waiting about for most the afternoon for him just to come round. Why he had to go home when he could stay overnight no problem. He did only one night and the sleep was bad and the sex was committed but cold. He never explained what was going on. It really hurt. By the end of things i felt like so much had been missed out. It should have been me and him against the world.

About 2 weeks later it was over. A week after i was home he was quieter on me, and i didn't know what to do so i let him breathe. I was trying to make sense of him and what had just happened. The fucking weekend after i'd come home he was shoving up photos left right and centre on his social media of this absolutely wild and amazing night out at a rave. He was happier than i'd seen him in months. He looked so earthy and natural and happy from the inside. He was radiating again. But i can't... still can't understand why he waited to do that without me when i begged to be part of it. It broke me.

And then the weekend after came some drunk social media spills of accidental private messages. He had a love bite on his neck and he was sipping on a late night soda in an open joint after another club night. The message was intended for another girl. I had to piece together how and when it happened. I figure... i only go with what i can understand, and that is that he must have met her shortly after i left. I don't understand why the pure boy i met on camp, who bore himself to me, and nearly ate my soul for being so hungry for it every time i exposed another piece, could turn away from me so rapidly for no apparent reason. Out of nowhere. I was so beautiful looking by this point. I didn't have the inside pain of the summer.. but he kinda brought it back to be honest. I couldn't believe it.

I messaged him for an explanation and he wanted to keep it as short as possible. "I've found someone else i'm sorry".

It just made no sense. But none of my life does. I've had other strange encounters i could easily tell you all about. I still love my young man. He told me he loved me for months all day long. I saw how much he meant it by his eyes. So something must have been going on inside that he didn't tell me about. And the pull of his friends and family had something to do with it.

I hope heaven is him at the end of the pier
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19/3/2020

Mermaids are sentenced. Mermaids are sirens.
Hey lil dolly, cosmopolly. Why are you so melancholy?

This fairy tale will end up well.
The last page is justice but the pages in between
Are hell.

Runrit Finland forest nymph. Never seen, never heard.
Huldra wont show hollow blue back
Why's the little skogsra scared?

Maidens are quaint. Fine and faint.
Maidens are fair.

Altogether lovely and rare.
Tiny fingers. Scent that lingers.

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30.3.2020 Get Fit

I'm feeling really lonely down here without Christ.

I don't think i'm gonna find happiness in this lifetime. My dreams are too close to pipe dreams now i realise. I dream about living in the sunshine, having a Christian husband, and counselling children, while living a get fit lifestyle outdoors.

Absolutely none of that is achievable here.

There are no handsome young, or even eligible old Christian men for miles around. The weather is constantly cold and hostile. Even if the sun glimmers through the clouds for a few hours, i still go out and find myself surprised later on that i've caught a chill. Because it's deceptive. Everything is so cold. I think you need an element of separation to be able to counsel. See, Moses went through the wilderness for 40 years after fleeing Egypt. The only way he was able to lead the people through the wilderness for another 40 years was by coming away from it, to re-enter it a conqueror. You can't re-enter a battlefield that has been personal to you, no matter how you may be able to identify with recent victims and have their solutions - unless you have conquered that battle already for yourself. It's like an addict still struggling to get clean, leading alcoholics anonymous, or a gambler who is still weak to it, going to stand outside casinos to offer flyers with helpline info. It's the same reason doctors always live in big houses far away from the disease they are attempting to heal. You need to be disconnected from the poison you are neutralising. But i'm not neutral to the things that trigger my issues here. How can i help a child like some sorted human when this place brings out the worst in me? I know noones life is perfect when they're helping others, but all i'm saying is... this idea that i'm gonna be a counsellor with the degree i'm studying... i can begin to imagine how traumatising it's going to be for me to deliver that help, when i have no other outlet or input that fulfils or nourishes my own inner person here. I'd be swamped by the mire i'd be trying to treat.

I'm being quite clear about this. I had some epiphanies this last 24 hours that have once again brought me right back round to the same pit stop that i keep denying to myself is my real hope and desire.

I've always wanted to dance. I dream that i'm dancing sometimes. I dance less and less than i ever did, but if you had seen me when i was younger, even 10 years ago you would have thought i was a fairie or a floating ballerina. This cold, subduing place is taking the inner flame of mine and just reducing it to the pilot light alone. I'll carry that pilot light to my death or rapture, and it wont go out. But i don't kindle like i used to. Because this environment has taken the tinder and firewood away from my light.

I am not completely void of stimulus. I fight for it. I make conscious decisions to do things that are good for me. But i saw a video today of a tortoise that was kept in someones fridge for 4 months and taken out at the end of its hibernation. This little thing woke up perfectly happy with a heat lamp, but there's no chance this thing was going to be active in that box with holes in it, until the hands reached in and changed it's situation. I don't feel like i can get out this box.

Epiphany 1 i had was last night. It was a lockdown bonfire in my back garden. I'd faced one of my worst fears (kidding), which was to go up this hideously unsafe ladder into our attic and pull out masses of cardboard i'd stored up there for whatever purpose it could be useful for later. It was a bright idea that passed an evening. I drank sangria and watched the fire roar bigger and bigger, until the flames tried to scorch me unexpectedly at one point. It just hit me... the heat. It was SO hot. And i loved it. My skin and eyes hurt later but i loved it so much it's like it took me back to that summer in Tunisia (in 2004?). And it took me back to every other country i've been to that the sun beat down on me in. That unforgiving lashing heat that i just live for. For just a few seconds i felt like i was home. And something in my little heart felt broken when that sweet reminder of freedom was taken away from me, and i was returned to a cold March night in Scotland.

You don't forget something like that, like a haunting tune you haven't heard since your childhood- that throws you back into your size 10 playshoes in that memorable room. Or a perfume that newly lingers from somewhere untraceable and you know exactly the last time you smelled it so you have to step away to recompose yourself. Or step closer in.

The next epiphany, or perhaps this was the 1st, shall i call the first one the second? I was told a couple of days ago by my friend that she had not paid up the holiday i had given money to her for. We were supposed to go together as part of a large group, but the others cancelled with news of the virus. I was reluctantly talked into this holiday in the first place, and though it was going to be in a pretty location, it didn't feel like it was going to brilliantly work for me. Learning that it was essentially cancelled, and i was reduced only to the holiday i had booked previous to it - the most beautiful 4-5* all inclusive hotel in a hidden paradise, complete with a top rated kids club, spa, water park and private beach area with bar... it all became so much more important to make sure that dream would come true. I've put so much money towards it, when i've hardly been able to live recently, and my last payment is tomorrow. To see it completely paid for, like the golden ticket (to a charlie bucket) becoming fully mine is going to send me ecstatic. Even if it all gets cancelled come the day... the idea is... i have a hope... a dream... of going somewhere where i can swim in mineral waters surrounded by hanging plants, and walk along shores unrestrained. And that dream alone is a golden ticket. I can't imagine how blessed i will be if i actually get the real thing.

Can you see how much escape from this place tastes like salt and light to me? Maybe it's all just a reflection of how little i belong on Earth in general. It's so hard to judge. Could i be happy in another country? Or would i be jinxed there like i have been here? I have not been happy so far. It's easy to be honest about that if i absolutely reflect. Very easy. I don't know how other people make happy of their lives. Are they just content people inside? Or are they in situations that can much more easily bear than i can mine? If you rationalise that they are simply just content, it's probably the damned vitamin D they're getting that's giving them the disposition in the first place, putting them back in check mate at an unfair advantage - they don't win for being better. I see photos often on my facebook, of hotspots in America that my christian friends live in and go to. I see lakes, forests, oceans, gardens, sunsets, birds and those fancyyy restaurants. I've been over there enough to know what the high life looks like there.

I remember this one time i went to a church in Mississippi for sunday worship. The amount of young people there, young godly guys interested in me after my being there for only five minutes. I laughed and they loved whenever i spoke. I kept it in, but something in me realised just how rich a land it is for women there. They don't know their own blessings. When i later in the year posted about the ache of a failed relationship on my facebook, some really stupid woman who shall remain nameless, turned on me to have a huge go at me PUBLICLY, over my unwise decisions in not choosing to date christian men. I felt like slapping her. As far as i could see she was one of the most ignorant and difficult women i'd met face to face and yet she had this man giving her all the love. Once again i kept it inside but i knew that if a visage like her could get such a phenomenal man i could do. I was just rooted in the wrong soil. I was disgusted at her and to this day i cannot forgive her vast selfish ignorance for thinking she had something right in her that i didn't. She was 10 times the mess i was. I don't claim to be all good. But hell.

Someone take me out while i'm still in flower. And plant me somewhere decent, PLEASE. I have had enough of spending decades talking myself out of what i have known to be true since my early teens. I used to look up at the planes overhead (imagine living right next to an airport and being forced to watch them fly right above you every day), and literally beg out loud "GET ME OUT". I did it for years, until i .. i think i just numbed.

I think humans are surprisingly resilient, and given enough time, no matter how awful a previous trauma, the soul can flourish in a marvellous, almost miraculous way if given the right bonding agent to heal. There will always be a part of you that remembers, and is changed forever, just as Frodo acknowledges in the end of the trilogy of LOTR. You are forever haunted by that memory. The tune, the smell, the familiar sensation. Yet it can be your gold. A force of absolute strength in you. When you have been broken to the point that you cannot be broken any more, your core is known to you wherever you go after, like a voice of reason in a material, fleeting world. I don't know if any of you understand that. I get it. I wrote it. I'll never be able to go even into the heart of my paradise now without wearing a garment of sobriety and Wensday Adams stare. The garment might look white, but the eyes are dark saucers.

I have said to God that in heaven i might need to live for 1000 or 2000 years in a place of solitude away from the party. Just to cope with what i've been through down here. I'm just being honest. They say everything will be erased when i get there. All the pain. But isn't that most of who i am now? If He erases that, i don't know who or what will be left. I carry it like the norm. It sits on me like armour, very well balanced, like a ledgers set of books. Pain becomes knowledge, and if i remove that, all of this writing wont exist. It will be someone else. Probably someone nicer, sweeter, and more innocent and starry eyed. But not the girl i know. I confuse myself trying to understand this.

I'm trying to think what the last epiphany was. I think it was Prince Harry's announcement on the news today that he and Meghan are moving to California. Well what a roll of the eyes. Some people when they irritate me it's a visceral reaction. This young man has had the absolute life. He's lived in palaces all over the country. He has had the honour and privilege to serve his country under the best education and direction. He feels satisfaction that he has earned his way and yet has seen wonders. Sure he has known tragedy, but it doesn't remove that he can now enjoy the best of any world he wishes to step into. He has moved to Canada to enjoy life, and now wants to take it up a notch and live in arguably the worlds happiest location bubble. Here's me saying "oh you don't know the other side of it, there is so much poverty and vice", and "it's going to see so much strife when Cali falls into the sea as prophecies have forewarned concerning the megaquake". I have all the evidence to tell myself that i don't want what He has. But i want the English palace. Gardens of vast lawns stretching onto horizons with rows of the finest variety of trees making it all look so fairytale-esque. I want to sip tea from a china cup, it's me. It's what i do here, in this house. I don't like mugs. I think they're horrible things. It's all wrong. I'm in the wrong place. I want to fly out to where the sea hits onto wonderful white sand. Where trees are SO green. Bright green like almost neon with colour.

Am i thinking the grass is greener on the other side? I know a guy who lived in Chicago for years. He had such a good sense of humour. He was so funny and intelligent and charismatic. A year ago he finished up training in the marines and went out to Cali, and he said he will NEVER go back. His whole countenance has been brought to life. His vibrancy has found it's home. He has a stunning girlfriend, and he smiles ALL the time. He's the proof that sometimes reality is sweeter than you convincing yourself it isn't. I'm so happy for him. But i cried so hard when i saw his photos. I felt left behind. You could say i smelled the perfume. I saw the sun and his smile the golden ticket was his. I remember having so many vivid dreams after that which i tried to explain to him but he didn't grasp. Never mind.

At least i'm safe, right? I have a roof over my head. I have food. It's not great but it's there. I know we're in a lock down and there are people who have lost their whole livelihoods, so i'm not the only person being shaken by what's going on. But still, if ever it felt like i was having epiphanies, its now.

I should be thin and slender again. I should have the sun on me. I should be listening and dancing to music. I should be eating bright fruits and helping people. But i can't do that here. I'm on antibiotics and i have a heated blanket under my feet because my bones were so cold they were aching and feeling fluish. God, have i got some years on the clock? Are You coming back now for us? Or do i have some more years?

Cos, if you're coming now i'll just do up mums house however i can in the mean time, and bunker down with her and the little one to keep safe, watching for You. But if i have some more years, i don't want to be sitting in this room, wondering where i'm going, still studying this degree, wondering if i'm meant to be doing it at all, or if im about to embarrass myself by finishing it and going into ANOTHER one instead of finding work. I don't know where i'm going or what i'm doing. And i haven't done for a long time, because all the while i just know i'm in the entirely wrong place.

I keep telling myself every day that it's just because i'm not in heaven, and that i'll feel home soon. But truly. I see those images, those postcard pictures, and i know deep down in myself, that it could work out, if i get out.

Still i'm numb, joints and pilot light are blue. Just about still going till the person who has me in the box lifts me out.

I don't think i can do it alone. I love heat but i don't want to out the frying pan into the actual fire. I can't afford to lose the little security i have. It's the only thing i have.

I'm sorry i ranted so long.

I just had to talk to someone. About my dreams of sunshine. And my real smile.

xx
Hidden 7 mos ago Post by -o-O-o-Fantasia-o-O-o-
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The Revelation 12 sign, the woman virgo with the moon at her feet in the heavens presently has the meteorite 'child' passing through which will spin away before it can be swallowed up by the dragon.

Brics - count the nations, and the number making up the UAE. The dragon stood on the shore of the sea. And I saw a beast coming out of the sea. It had ten horns and seven heads, with ten crowns on its horns, and on each head a blasphemous name.

The covenant to be confirmed with many, the seven year United Nations sustainable development plan this October.

When they say peace and safety, sudden destruction comes.

Iron does not mix with clay. Ashes to ashes. True Adam genome. Graphine oxide, DEWS. DUMBS. 3rd helix. Quantum dot.

And do not fall for the deceptive facade of the one world leader.

The antichrist. His time will be 'times time and half a time'.

The four horsemen will ride.

3 days of darkness.
When the moon's and aurora's appear lock yourself firmly inside and block all light from outside. Cover all windows. Do not answer the door to anyone. Not even who sounds like your loved one. Nephilim.

Jesus is Lord. Be willing to die for the Lord. Rapture. Jacobs trouble.
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Hidden 17 days ago Post by -o-O-o-Fantasia-o-O-o-
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11.3.24. The Upcoming Three Days Of Darkness

When you see the Aurora lights cover the sky, and multiple moons or planets appearing visible to the naked eye, you must get indoors immediately with your loved ones. You must lock ALL windows, doors and secure any vents or entry ways closed. You must conceal every single window so that nothing outside can be seen from inside. The windows must be fully blacked out so that nothing can sh8ne through at all. You must have at the ready at least 3 days of stored water, food, and necessary medical and hygiene supplies for all members to live off. Consider heat sources while the power is off, How will you stay warm? You will have 2 hours from the time you see the auroras to get indoors and lock yourself in. This is a warning from the Lord who has come to judge the nations. His judgement begins. Do not answer the door to anyone. The nephilim will mimick your loved ones to coax you to answer your door. Do not answer your door at any cost for it will cost you your life. People will be slaughtered outside like cattle during the 3 days and nights of thick tangible darkness. During thus time get on your knees and repent of your sins if you have not done so already, and accept Jesus Christ as your saviour. Time is short. The afterlife is eternal. The time of grace is come to an end. The tribulation period begins.

Jesus is mankind's salvation
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