SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 160

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 160
SUPPLEMENTAL ENTRY
BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

Well, Dear Diary of the Online World, I made a complete ass out of myself by saying that the year of 2011 is not like any of the other PITSY's. Nothing could have ended up being any further away from the total truth in the matter, nothing at all. I had just posted my previous blog up to two websites, www.blogger.com/ and www.wordpress.com/ when immediately I felt the need to lie down and relax, and talk to “Diana” over the phone, as I have done since the year of 1983. Indeed peeps, 2011 is the hugest event out of all three of them now, being 1980, 1994, 2011. It may have taken a more esoteric and non-materialistic form as opposed to tangible and physical, which seemingly would better match the waking world, but in this very unusual and special case, this simply does not matter, as the gravity of what I am going to embark on as this blog moves forward, may become clear and evident in so far as its true cosmic importance, both to me individually, as well as to the entire rest of the world, collectively.

Except for perhaps a very select few in the Entertainment World, the top end Political World, and the highest gang in the Business World, these words will be gibberish and may as well be random strokes on this keypad. Some however, will indeed know either instantly, or it will unmistakeably strike them over time, that things have forever altered in my life, as May turned into June, on this PITSY YEAR-4.

First, I am finally all settled into my new residence, a stones throw in one direction to the South Beach of fort Pierce out on Hutchinson Island, and in the other direction, a stones throw fro my current hell hole job at the 25th Street Harvest Foot Outreach. This as well as a few quick other facts will be told, and then we can move this right along and begin to tell the most powerful stuff that these six years of my blogs have ever attempted to get into.

Tuesday Morning, the WOMO enemy or the MILLIONTH-COUNCIL awakened me with a vicious sore throat, that passed after 90 minutes or so as though it never was e4ven there, but it hurt like hell when I first climbed out of freaking bed. Viciousness and inhumanity, are endless trademarks of the MILLCO. There is no shock value here, merely shame they they also are totally ever incapable of ever feeling. One must be human and contain some heart somewhere, in order to have any decent feelings. Then, this morning at a quarter past six, they awoke me with a bang with another stupid ass fire alarm, this will be par for the frickin' course, with me now living in a public housing building. Oh well, so I grin and bear it, and realize I'm saving just over 300 dollars monthly between lower utility costs as well as lower rents. I am saving up for a year, so I can hopefully return to Ann, and people there like Jennifer Washburn, who genuinely care about my well being, as well as my special needs, as opposed to Florida, where no one here gives a piss about me whether I should live or die. Heartlessness is all over the world, but Florida ranks much higher on the heartlessness scale, believe me, than does, New Jersey. Soon, I plan to return back to the place where I belong, on good old Interstate 295, no country roads please, and far further north from here than West Virginia, all old songs notwithstanding.

The 'radio-game' was real bad at work this week, especially Tuesday and Wednesday, but I managed as always to get through this nightmare. My main enemy there is the tall prissy mirror kisser young girl in the office. She has targeted me and singled me out for some time now, and totally haters me. I have my sources that these lovely ass people have no clue about, and even if they have small clues, not enough proof to do anything about fixing the information leak. They detest older people, we are in the way, not in their click, and if we were not free labor to them under Obama's Stimulus Package, all the AARP volunteers would be out of there on our ears and butts faster than Precious Boy can slip in his word, “BUT”.

Now this is said and over, we can now begin concentrating on just what this blog is about, and what occurred directly following the minutes and the hours of my posting of the other recent blog where I specifically said that 2011 is not living up to the expectations of the PITSY PREDICTIONS, based on pure mathematical stages and movements, all based on two numbers, the three, and the eleven.

I was in a light trance, and found myself on the beach towel that I visit somewhat frequently, where Sarah J. Krassle and Diana Z. Arteemis, are both with me. After the three of us engaged in not so acceptable behavior by Earth standards, due to human hang ups concerning polygamy, as well as and in addition to the human hang ups and issues regarding the expression of the ultimate love between minors and adults; suddenly I went on a vendetta to ask Sarah-Stacey more questions than ever before about Her great strobing light. She gazed at me firmly but lovingly, and then that famous smile of Hers, began to beam across Her face at me; and instantly, Diana just poofed away, and vanished into thin air. Now here is where this blog is gonna' be a hard pill to swallow. Even I am still in shock.

As you know, Mountainpen followers; Sarah and I met, humanly, in the middle nineteen-sixties, on Tennessee Avenue, in Atlantic City, New Jersey, USAESMWG. When things did not work out the way I now wish that they had between us, yet was all a part of Her great long-term-plan, I moved on in life. A couple of years later however, She popped up, as another girl named Sarah, also extremely tall, utterly breathtakingly ravishingly beautiful, and physically containing the strength of five big grown men. Since these things all ready have been told on some foundational level, no new stuff will be added now, for sake of time and easier reading of this blog and its intent to tell major things. First, a child can see how I said somewhere within my past 10-30 blogs on my SAFE JOURNAL, how three television shows seem to make up the story of my life, in many unexplainable ways. I listed them. Then. One is taken off , replaced by another one, and at the same time that on another channel in the area where I reside, is airing still the third and other one. If you can really chalk this tri-event that came out of left field, with the suddenness of a fast approaching twister, and rationalize this as pure random coincidence and me being overly self-important for even daring to believe this indeed is not some random act coincidence, you certainly are entitled to do this; but you would be wrong, and I promise you that, on my very 'spirit', if I may be permitted to use this old world term up here in the scoffers 2011 of more scientific enlightenment and education.

Here is the entire new revelation told to me by SSJK, in trance as May was turning into June, and directly following my saying that this year is anything but unusual or in any way like 1994, 1980, or 1969. I had asked her to please tell me about Her strobe light and how the magic works, after-all She'd just effected a total invisible repair to my broken automobile, using it in a dreaming-interaction, yet causing it to repair the car right here in the waking world, shades of the Book of the Beach, or better said, the CHAIN kept in the same strong-box, in my Oaklyn, New Jersey bedroom closet, back in the year of 1969, in December, right after I turned age fifteen. All of a sudden, Stacey Krassle leaped yup onto Her feet, standing 6 feet 7 inches tall with no shoe or sandal, Her long light brown hair dangling down all around Her to just past Her waste, and Her huge round beautiful chocolate brown eyes starring into my eyes, softly and gently. Again, She smiled, and suddenly, Diana vanished away without the smallest trace. One by one, step by step, she explained my meeting her in my lifetime as Sarah over a period of four summers, then one day, it all vanished. Buildings got bull dozed, and it was as though none of it had ever been real, only it was. Then she admitted that in her new persona, she knew She was SSJK, and had humanly been Sarah on 10-SC Avenue, and was following me and my life as early as the age of two years. She went onto tell me that this mysterious strobe light that she could actually hold in a canister or cylindrical long tube, IS INDEED what the world recognizes and calls, “LIGHTNING”. It is HER “Terrible swift sword, and is totally under Her control at all times, and doing only Her bidding” When I had moved out of 1802v Robin Hill and into the rented home in Atco, at 134 Norris Avenue, She let me think, and come to believe; that I was dealing with Goddess Diana of the Astral Plane, only this never was happening, and it was Sarah-Stacey Krassle all along, doing all of this, and all of the Miss Blake AT&T miracles. I had a thirteen year old Suffolk county, New york human world SSJK equivalent, calling me up and doing all of this the entire time. Shem went onto following me places, later making street lights that were off suddenly go on, or that were on, suddenly go off, just as I'd pass and drive underneath them at night, and She'd do many other miracles, such as in 1985 with the telephone switchboard at the #113 Caldor Department Store, where David Roth and I, were guarding during its construction in Woodbury Heights, in New Jersey. It suddenly made me see more clearly than 1000 Hubble Telescopes could ever do, the Lakehouse, how Diana flashed above in beautiful colors after MI had vanished, and I kept calling out to Her, she had gone into the sky with Her strobe-light, making unfathomable lovely colors of purple, pink, and white, over the lake and the bay in the distance out beyond that. In August of 2008, when she pretended to drown and altered the rules of the game so that it was Her girlfriend who drowned instead after the strange tide-whistle blew, I first was with Diana on these very bright green grasses near the shore of this beautiful lake. Then when MI and her Volleyball player built friend had come along, Diana was nowhere to be found. MI had just turned off Her strobe-light. All LIGHTNING ever is or was or can be on EARTH, is MI's incredible strobe-light gadget. Indeed on the Astral Plane, Diana is real, and does love me. I cannot help adding here that I find it far beyond surreal and strange how I* mention the tide-whistle that was discussed nearly three years ago in 2008, and within a couple minutes time, the township is conducting some siren test. A voice jeeps repeating, “This is a test, this is only a test” quote, end of quote, and then after so many times of hearing that, a blaring loud odd sounding siren goes off, it is deafening even inside my apartment, with closed windows, air and fans fully on, and earplugs in my ear. Oh well, at least I'm not at the bottom of the bay sucking weeds. It is still ongoing and has been for ten minutes now as of about 12:07 PM. The voice saying this I swear to the gods of the Astral Plane, sounds exactly like the voice from nearly three years ago, making the tidal danger announcements right near to Scylla's Lakehouse, in that powerful and outlandish first dreaming-interaction about this place of mystery. So my point here is that all along, I have been dealing with Sarah, and only Sarah, and she let me believe LIGHTNING was around the Earth worlds and doing all of these things with me and to me, when all along, all though Lightning in fact does reside on the Astral Plane, she has never had anything to do with any of this, all this time. The 1980 interaction at 1802 Robin Hill, when I fell asleep and one night around this time of year, being the first week in the month of June, She interacted with me, singing me this incredible song entitled, “Love Is for Carpenters, followed the Sarah Jacobson appearance of this All mighty Jehovah Goddess, back around 1971 and 1972, and that directly followed the last time the gang of hers last saw me physically, on that public transit bus on the night of twelve July in 1970. All this time, it has been SARAH, SARAH, SARAH, my mystery girl. How your mom could possibly believe that I am the mysterious one here, is beyond all inescapable logic. When Paula King raped me the third time, and in my adult life at the Kennedy Hospital elevator, I did not even realize it was Paula until days later. She is exactly the same, and has not aged one day since the nineteen-sixties. She is so stunningly gorgeous and ravishing that it blows my mind. In hyperspace, she bore me a second lovely daughter, Paula Junior, who insists on being called by the nickname that she gave to herself, PEE.

It is so far outside the boundaries of this time period and its laws of political correctness, that this story cannot really safely be told. Still, the bond between the ALL MIGHTY and me, is not because of me, or anything that is about me personally. It is, and you must see and try and realize this; because I am in a family lineage that means the world to this great teenaged girl. She sees this Judah tribe as one huge strand of triple helix chemistry. This is the exact chosen chemical composition that She chose for reasons that obviously only She knows, and going beyond this is none of any of our business, not any of yours out here, and not any of mine; as 'SCYLLA' has the absolute total rights to any and all of Her great secrets. If She wants us to know, believe me, we will know, as things will slam into us like a landslide.

My living with the family was all to make my journals and tapes, both audio and video, disappear forever, as in this new age, it would be way too dangerous, and yes, tempting on my part, to prove to the world that indeed all this has happened, and that every word spoken in Morianity, with the exception of that one stupid misleading statement about the night in 1970, is all 100% correct, accurate, and honest. This is all the truth, so help me flag-country, and Goddess Jehovah SSJ-Krassle of the Astral Plane, owner of the heavens and the earth, (Astral and Physical Planes or realms of existence). This 160 chapter in my SAFE-JOURNAL blogging, is but the opening of this powerful life changing event. I feel that June the first, yesterday, was my second 8-15-86. Who knows, I may very well be right.


THIS BLOG CHAPTER TERMINATES NOW: