(2 pages long -Words based on what is framed by the downloads at first two posts, written more in the style of writing used in -free download- novel): https://anewgnosis.com/2019/06/25/71/
Matter is fixed resonant variance, where target is function as spread-throughout frequency, and it’s all their houses are worth. Minute swirling plasma vortices dot the atmosphere from eye level up, they fall with night, -blend in with dark and light. It’s the enemy’s incursion, sent secretaries to do the warrior’s job, “errand boy” isn’t still in use for no reason, -oh, and what they do with boys, what they do to corral the individuated field of the psyche, the radio dial switches of splitting attention. Enlist the sex slaves, call them heroes, call it espionage, call it logistical rape of mind control projects to occupy the peon’s time, call it sound diplomacy and make it as cold as the war. It will take up decades as the evil gains ground through atmosphere cast into resonance near streetlamps, making the light fry neural pathways of pedestrians in direct correlation to their account balances, it’s for shits and giggles, it’s “until we build enough to build the next planet”.
This is for the girls, sixty year old man cigar stench, death breath, something about decay in age the child knows but no one sees. This is their ticket out, let the rest starve. Last time you’ll have to see this neighborhood, cozy up to the seventy year old in bed and you’re out, no the cocaine’s free, but the tab’s called if you ask to leave. It’s stated in petroglyphs, trans-dimensional projections pushing through nerves of hands used to carve stone, through stone to impact Astral senses, -the hologram assigned to you for spiritual experience, so that the contained ditzy and the Luciferian, (worshipping penises in the sun), wind up “finding each other”.
Thank you platform Saturn, balls of turning circles and flat discs of gold layered into eight foot spheres of giant clockworks controlling time. You are their distraction. You are their entertainment. It’s the circle of the clock face plus the toil and dread, anticipations, worries, need and desires of all sentience anywhere that ever looked at the clock. Let the sacrifices begin, a time for the demons the have the All, as promised by global Aristocracy and let them tell you what it means, sniveling worthless worshipping money in the name of death because viruses create venture-capitalist interest in vaccines. Cation Particle Silver is not backed by the FDA as approved treatment, and sugar literally rots teeth to the bones of the skull of the citizenry. Why offer dental care, the stench of decay suits you, smile through it. Time travel is especially dependent on children staring at the clock in school, begging for class to end, the bell to ring, the weekend to begin.
All alone to think aloud no one would care to admit, always understated unspoken, this isn’t our stances making our world. It is hell brought to Earth. Clockwork mechanics assigning vectors dependent on sentient concept, they are preparing you for slaughter in the name of how a body they forced into existence, with sentience bound to physicality through mechanical coercion, is subject to an individuated field it is resonant to through its DNA. The term “Aura” does not suffice. Running through the field, creating an impact delivered by resonant field dynamics from platform Jupiter through hollow thin gold statues, both made as the “base mold of man and woman”, both anchored to a structure with a large box between the two: A processing center, delivering the matter of death, a substance treasured for its property of making bodies die on contact. It can be released into any sentient target because the interior of the “mold of man/woman” is charged with electromagnetic current, sustained to build and separate a single-atom layer of gold. The field of monatomic gold is prized for its property to entangle sentience, and through the individuated field half breed beings subsist on energy from “person’s field”, but those beings are elsewhere, (resonant field throughway mechanics), -the trans-dimensional roller-coaster, the bleeding mascara; how when eyes alone beg for help the lip quivers and the skin beneath the nose goes cold.
It pacifies the manic prey of New Age Luciferiansim, and those who are not useful for sex are useful as conduit- the machine running through all atmospheres, all atmospheres of all planets layered strategically, impressed into the air of the Earth, breathe in the perpetual carnival of death from platform Jupiter. Know gas giants as man-made nebulae, oh what they do with the boys, oh how the flesh rips, caught in their teeth, oh the children. Plasma in bands of Jupiter’s atmosphere particulates into gas in arrangements of lattice-works, templates for matter as storage mediums of untold sentient experience, to flow in enormous bands as they are fed the torture chamber’s sentient suffering slaughter. Throughout Jupiter’s atmospheres there are floating platforms where untold miseries are carried out by in the flesh demons, where men and women of evil exact their revelry. Mother-Daddy issue when the child goes missing from 2 to 3:30 in the morning for years, as far as anyone knows the whole house sleeps great those nights, and by turning a corner in the right hallway of the pentagon a President is on Mars, where he expects to be served the flesh of children in his meal. Bow down to your rulers, or make sure to watch the news after work.
Back layout, between halls, running the length of corridors connecting maintenance closets with false back walls, are entrances to passages not easily navigated, escorts required, blindfold and possible ball gag for the newbs, but it you find it, certain corridors open to massive caverns hosting spherical control stations. At control board personnel is at center of a large gas and plasma sphere, the functioning aspects of all matters of all atmospheres, and for Jupiter, bans of brown and grey are available to be directed and repositioned to impress dominion- oh the screams, what they do to the boys, it is their pastime, but their suits are expensive. In dreary stripes of thicker black in shadows falling from walls lining streets between subdivisions, in the long hollow concrete passages with fury in frozen wind, thin scintillating membranes build through shadow and dirt, or openly conceal their bodies in streetlight. Function platform Jupiter. A shake to the spine, and the certainty someone’s about to die.
Stop taking these materials for retractable value, placing is more than placement because we are lost to the continual battle, grounded as iron, just as obstinate, continually melting and swirling thick, heated to near-plasma, holding as solid as the endless accusation made by the physicality of the world. It was never skin or floating smiles drifting beyond the confines of their faces. Spending time with people presented me with their fading, and it is never by their choice; the grasp of reality, as an actual existence, because anything beyond this can be no more than the fourth dimension, -reading time as function of field:
All realms experienced are massive, allotted temporal dispersions, specific to parameters set for the matter of each.
Television as function of field, send postcards from the attic if the signal’s out, someone’s going to have to stay up there if this gets serious.
-Dated, and nuanced to clever defeat.
