#sb276

I literally screamed it until my voice gave out, and I gave up the screaming, but the message is still the same and will continue to be the same until enough people see the truth and speak that truth:

The vaccine program is not about safety for the people. It’s not even about control of disease. It’s about control of the people. FULL government control of the people.

The longer We The People allow this to persist, the more control our government takes from us. Speak out now while you’re still allowed to.

Yes, you will be questioned. Yes, you may be shamed and bullied. Yes, you may be abandoned by people you care about. That all happened to me. Because that’s what can happen when you tell truths that people don’t want to hear, truths that go against entrenched propaganda.

And when you speak out, the opposites can happen too. Yes, you may be believed. Yes, you may be honored. Yes, you may be entrusted to hold the personal stories of others who have been abused and injured — by the program, the system, the vaccines, and/or by people whose fear has transformed to cruelty as the propaganda intends. That all happened to me too.

🎶Let It Be🎶 is for when I don’t want to let it be, but there’s no other way.

I fell asleep late last night with my body humming the song in every cell. My heart resists. It wants the other way, the impossible one where I get to keep what I have, right here.

The lyrics come anyway, despite my resistance, and my heart sings them too. It sings of faith that persists even when I send it away again and again. It sings of joy that plucks me like a guitar string. It sings in the resonance of surrender to what can’t be stopped. It sings in the freedom deep within that can never be taken.

The long road stretches before me. This highway knows too little justice and too many goodbyes. From the roadside I wave until she rounds the bend. Star Thistle pricks my shins, and I let them bleed awhile. The blood runs until my eyes close from the exhaustion inherent in not letting be what already is.

Hope lives on the long road, they say. I feel it sometimes in my dreams.

***

🎶”...And when the broken-hearted people

Living in the world agree

There will be an answer, let it be

For though they may be parted

There is still a chance that they will see

This afternoon I suspended my humanity and became a cat. I folded myself in layers on fleece blankets over a red rug over a wood floor over a foundation of ease.

My friend played the piano and sang to me of dams. And, damn, I was joyful. And, damn, I was content. Content to curl up in the madness of boxes packed in the hall. The big square kind that mean only one thing. I tried not to look at them, but truth once seen can’t be unseen.

Where now will I wear my threadbare dress with the tags inside out? Where will I go with my hair unbrushed without a care? Where can I be so readily real? Where else will I be so un-lonely?

Coffee strained through a paper towel and sweetened with milk and honey. The glass warmed my hands, and I didn’t want to let go.

Damn.

Slipping into a moment can be so easy. Algae covered rocks and a bit of white water take us in and spit us out refreshed or pulverized, or both sometimes. Pinwheels line the path late in summer, growing over corpses of the lupine we passed in spring. They take turns watching the river in shifts of purple and gold. Sentinels. Witnesses like us.

Full disclosure on a Friday evening.

I wrote this blog post (below) 8 days before waking up with the pain in my back which began as a blunt knife and transformed in time to lashing and strangling ropes, betrayal and grief within the collapsing structure of my spine.

I used the #sb277 hashtag. SB276 was just a glimmer then in the eyes of agents of the New World Order. A glimmering grenade, drafted and waiting in the shadows for just the proper amount of hysteria to be generated in order for them to justify pulling the pin. Proper. Like tea time, with them in black suits, clutching the grenade with pinkies curled, as they spit insults into the collective pot, poured them onto people’s chests, and stitched them there with yellow thread. With the glimmer in the shadows and my chest burning up into my throat I wrote the post.

8 months later, I’m living now in a different feeling. The anger I felt for so long has transformed in a crucible of pain, loss, and clarity. I see the pin pullers and supporters of vaccine mandates now as Dauntless soldiers, out of bed but unawake, injected with sleeping serum which was brewed in the pot of tea. I won’t turn a weapon on myself and tell them it’s okay to destroy me, but I won’t shoot them either. The role I’ll play is still to be determined.

I offer no apologies for the anger I felt then and still feel in moments when the veil slips back. I offer no apologies for giving that anger a voice. I recognize many scalded people are feeling it. It’s not unique, and it’s not new. It’s as old as humanity.

When you come between a parent and her child, the parent may see you as a monster worthy of disintegration, regardless of your intentions and regardless of your state of consciousness. She has the capacity to destroy you, or to destroy herself trying. Many times in the past 4 1/2 years I’ve heard, “This is how wars begin.” And it’s true. It’s begun.

I look now for the antidotes to the sleeping serum of propaganda which permeates everything, including the textbooks used in the schools that ban the children whose parents don’t comply, or often did comply until those children were injured.

Witnessing vaccine injury in a loved one is the most reliable antidote I know. That’s what it’s come to. But I refuse to accept that the only way to wake up the world is through the sacrifice of children. There is worth in finding other antidotes, finding the ingredients of the red pill or letting them find me through revelation. That kind of involvement is preferable to me now than destruction or waiting to die.

I take comfort now in knowing I’m not crazy, and I’m not wrong. I just know what I know.

***

December 29, 2018:

“Wounded

I recognize that most people don’t have the capacity and/or interest in growing a friendship with me.

I recognize that I don’t have the capacity and/or interest in growing a friendship with most people.

I don’t want to associate with people who don’t support health freedom. I see each of them as holocaust supporters, brainwashed by media, government, and corporate interests.

I genuinely feel the world would be a safer and better place without them. I would not grieve their deaths. Even people who were my friends for decades. I barely recognize their humanity anymore. I see them as monsters.

I see everyone who supports forced/coerced medicine as monsters worthy of having their eyes ripped out, their ears gouged, and their tongue cut out.

Just like I have no interest in “agreeing to disagree” about sending people to death camps during WWII, I will not agree to disagree about forcing/coercing medical procedures on people now.

One person is responsible for my health... me. One person is responsible for your health... you. I see anyone who believes otherwise as disconnected from universal truth and not worth an exchange of words and breath with me. I can’t “live and let live” with people who won’t let me live with sovereignty over my own body.

This violence in my heart is what being forsaken, betrayed, oppressed, and traumatized has done to me. I wish the Infinity War was real and people who don’t support health freedom would turn to dust and blow away in the wind. Fuck them. Good riddance.

I don’t know how to make this stop. I don’t know how to integrate this ongoing trauma that will likely not end in my lifetime, in my daughter’s lifetime - but will only get worse. Short of death, I don’t know how I will find peace.

Some days I’m just waiting to die. Some days that’s what I’m patient for, even though I believe death will likely be nothing. Some days nothingness seems preferable to being forced into a “social contract” with asshole monsters who call themselves my representatives, my healthcare providers, my neighbors, my friends.