SAFE JOURNAL OF KING NEBNOOSHOO, CHAPTER 180

SAFE JOURNAL, CHAPTER 180
DATFILE: CH-180-063011.362
THURSDAY MORNING, ENDING
DAY OF FIRST HALF OF 2K11
TEOHIV/TMCAM/MORPRO-1995/4TH SUB:
“NIGHTMARES SQUARED, WITHOUT
TPB'S RASPBERRY VALLEY”
WORLD LABS OF 2297, SEND-BACK-TEXT
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OF MOUNTAINPEN, 2006-2011
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BEGINNING TRANSMISSION:

I WENT TO BED AROUND ONE OR TWO, AND GOT UP AROUND JUST SHY OF 7 THIS MORNING. I HAD SOME WILD AND MAJOR INTERACTIONS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BED, THAT I WILL TRY AND TELL A LITTLE BIT ABOUT RIGHT NOW, BACK ON THIS SIDE OF THE BED. FIRST OFF, A BED DOES NOT FLIP AROUND AS WE ALL KNOW, AND UNDERNEATH IT IS MERELY A FLOOR, NOT ANOTHER WORLD. BUT SMART PEEPS KNOW TOTALLY THAT NOTHING IS REALLY REAL EXCEPT FOR THE VOID INFINITY, ALSO KNOWN AS EWI OR THE BLOOMBERG RIPOFF OF THE JESSE FOOTBALL YEARS, AND OUT FROM THIS TOTAL NOTHINGNESS, COMES A CREATED FORCE THAT USES THE POWER OF MOVING FROM LESS THAN NOTHING INTO NOTHING, AS A LIMITLESS LAUNCHING PAD, INTO A BRAND NEW EXISTENCE AND INTO A TOTALLY NEW CLOSED CURVE INFINITY, BEYOND THE ONE JUST ESCAPED FROM.

I am not shouting despite internet protocol, merely making a gargantuan point in my first paragraph, so that these following paragraphs get your attention a little better, hopefully anyway. I was minding my own business and lost my waking world awareness before even shutting down my television and putting away a snack that I was eating, and fell into a very surreal and major vivid, dreaming experience and interaction. My daughter PEE, as she always has insisted on being called by this nickname that she gave to herself as a very small child, was about sixteen years old, and it was early in October in the year of 2014, as a calendar that was circled, was visually hanging from a bright yellow wall in a corridor that resembled her detention center, only it was different as well, as was not a detention center, but a college dorm. She was a co-ed, and had a boyfriend that she seemed to like quite well, and I did not like him all that much, but what father ever approves of his daughter's boyfriends? Paula King Junior, or Pee, was there with him, and I also was there, and remember the layout of 3 rooms, a corridor, and could describe details perfectly to a police detective or investigator with no trouble whatsoever, as it was this vivid and clear. I could describe both my daughter and the boy, the only thing that if I was privy of, that no longer remains in my conscious world memory, would be the name of the boy that she was tight with. He was slender and athletic in appearance with sandy blond hair, just over six feet tall, wearing bright colored clothes, neatly arranged hair of average college length for today's times, and had a very unusual speaking voice that is a bit difficult to describe, almost robotic, as though the dude was a constructed android from the future, lacking the science fiction television show android 'Data' on TNG-Star Trek's sophisticated normally sounding human type of voice. My daughters' physical beauty is beyond description, and all though she is stunning at twelve for a child, had indeed blossomed into young womanhood and would most definitely make a heavenly angel, jealous and angry of her unfathomable goddess-like beauty, and awesome power. The two of them were debating a word that sounded very similar to the World war Two event known as the Comocosi Pilots who intentionally crashed their fighter jets into the American Aircraft Carrier Transport Ships. It was a word sounding like the word Comocosi, spelled the gods only know how and not recognized by Spell-Checker, as WW-2 will not be either given one or two centuries obviously, in this absurdly fast moving paced society of ours, however, it was not exactly this word, and my daughter pronounced it for me, and never told me the meaning of it, and then the two of them continued debating this while I went straight ahead into a room from the ending corridor, and they went from a room from the left, into a room that was off to the right, all lit up bright and very colorfully. After a time, I came to learn that I was in a very non-localized parallel universe where it was a few years ahead in time as well, and that in this part of the hyperspace, I was not Pee's father, only a friend of the family. A short while later, I was invited, along with my mother, to a party at this college, and we showed up, and it was suddenly two or maybe as much as 3 or 4 days later, but no more. There were name tags near a table where we were all supposed to sit down at, only they had not been put up yet, and I remember asking how the seating arrangements were supposed to be, and my mother made a mean nasty comment, and then told me practically to sit down anywhere, and shut up. I was aware in the self here dreaming through this hyperspace doppelganger-me, that she had been making many very biting remarks at me throughout the day, and I was growing quite angry about it. I remember turning to her where she was sitting on a love seat next to a friend of hers who also was sitting on another loveseat or small couch that was almost but not quite the twin of the one my mother was on, and I chose any old spot around this dinner table that was very large but not banquet sized, and once I was seated, I turned to her, and looked right at her, and said this exact thing to her, “Mom, do you have any idea how much I would give if you just had picked one less time in your life to have sex with my dad, precisely 53 years ago”. My mind seemed to know, over there, that I had just turned age 52 years and 3 months of age, and since 9 months is the average human time for making a baby, we all know what this very cutting counter remark of mine to my mother, was all about. She then began to cry like a little baby, and before she broke down, an expression of agonizing pain came over her face that was inconceivable. Every facial muscle involved in making a face displaying torture in either the mind or the body, was transfixing her normal face into an almost hideous one, contorted and twisted and wrinkled from the extreme emotional heartbreak and excruciating painful emotions, that were obviously surging through her entire beingness. She began balling loudly and sobbing in a totally unrelenting way, and I never saw anyone in my entire life in all of my remembered experiences of all of my hyperspace travels, ever cry this passionately, convulsively, and lengthy. It just continued to go on and on and on and on. But let me stop the description of this very unpleasant agonizing nightmare now, and look at the two opposing time references. Originally, before the party, I was in a place where my daughter had recently reached the age of sixteen years, which takes place on September the 29th, in 2014. But at the party, that she and her boyfriend had invited both my mother and myself to, I remember distinctly being age 52 years and 3 months old, meaning it was early in March in the year of 2008. This was the beginning of my 70-day off-line period, just mentioned on my previous blog, SJ-CH-179, posted up yesterday about 20 minutes or so before the closing bell on Wall Street at 4 PM-EDST. So first, I am in early 10th month in 2014, and then find myself at this party, back in the first week in month 3, in 2008. Both times are roughly 39 months away from the present, only first it is ahead in time by this amount, and then it is backward in time by this amount, leaving the present time dead set in the very middle of all of this wild shit. I also came to learn that in this particular universe, Pee never tried to kill the large African-American New Jersey State Police Trooper who shot me dead in the back in another parallel universe, when she would have been a small child of about 7 or 8 years, and was sentenced, and sent to the Egg Harbor, New Jersey, 'Harborfields' Detention Center, on Route 561, a place existing for a very long time, right here in this part of the hyperspace; and this exact atomically matching universe in hyperspace, and visited often by, and connected with and through; many powerful New Jersey law enforcement persons, that all are somehow connected with it, and all entangled with the many powers to be, in Atlantic City, including the EX-Mayor Robert Levy, married to Ethel Levy, whose distant cousin is a distant cousin to Mariah Carey's paternal grandfathers 3rd cousin twice removed. This is quite a distant family relation, yet always remember, this world is asking a lot of me when they tell me to chalk up as a silly coincidence, the 20 year recurring dream of this Egg Harbor School for no apparent reason whatsoever, and named the same name as the actual Suffolk County, New York, high school where Mariah Carey graduated from in 1987, and hopefully after taking some very good advice given to her by an older boy, my-my and gee-whiz-RGG, I wonder who, © Examiners? People are asking me to buy into a lot more wild coincidences than the television show called, “Law and Order” ever expects their ADA's and their prosecutors, to buy into; as how many times is what I say here confirmed in that show, just in the three personalities of ADA Serena Sutherland, ADA Abbey Carmichael, and ADA and later turned top dog DA, MISTER Jack McCoy, himself, YO? It really is not fair, but then world, Jim Burr said to me one day a statement that I'll obviously take to my mother freaking grave, and this being, “Mark, it isn't a fair world”, another 1983 footnote to be 2011 inserted, into the Blogs of mountainpen, BRAHHHH!!!!!!!

I know that the man at work yesterday told me what he told me, this is no dream, and I am not confusing dimensions, or you might see it as 'dreams with real life', due to lack of proven science in this time period regarding hyperspace, exploratronic sciences, controlled-dreaming; and the circuitry and system, that drives all of these things, and lays well hidden, all behind the mighty invisible OZCS.

Well Dawn King passed into waking truth and away from this dream on New Years Day, Sarah is in a nursing home forever with seizures, Mayor Whaelon is hospitalized following a nasty stroke, Mayor Levy destroyed his own life with substance abuse and pain killers following his back surgery, and one by one, this great family, is falling. I am not against them as a unit, as when looked at in the large full tree that I have stretched out on my dining room table, this total population out to about 7 cousins, comprises about 2,840 persons, and naturally, they are not all out to get me, as why would they be? But playing just a little ordinary Google game tells the truth about how to wrap this entire thing up, as one close in member to all of this problem with me, is indeed the one, who always had the interest in things of a supernatural nature, and IMHO, has somehow, for reasons known only to this great soul, planned all of this, right down to the non-chance encounter I had in 1986 in Manhattan.

Nice hearing from you PP, yes, I will most definitely take your advice, and am glad you gave it to me, as what could I know about this, and after-all, you personally experienced it. I'm very sorry that these bastard doctors put you in so much pain . You personally know how they mishandled my mother and her mysterious and totally unknown medical condition in 1998 right after we met and shortly before we started up Studio Park Records. Paula is behind all of it, and I was only getting a shoe in the doorway back when I thought distant cousin Sarah Callio was the prime ingredient in all of this, or the mysterious teen of my past. I think the entire world has realized that maybe the great Lisa Dyfis is right after-all, with her nasty accusations of me. It corresponds with the last time for me up there to visit my Huntington/Gottwald relatives. Yes MI's wonderful mom, my elusive teen, wow, and Misses Bassler wanted me to write the greatest ghost story book in the world back in 1997. Well, maybe I will someday, called 'BOB-3'. After-all, the BLOGS OF MOUNTAINPEN already twin out to BOB-2, YO. Paul, this is big, study it all carefully, and don't come to any hasty conclusions. Then we can seriously talk man to man, about music, the industry; and why I refuse to sell my soul to the proverbial devil, just to be played, and receive money. I'd rather work making donuts in the morning, and keep the cops awake; so they'll be alert and catch the crooks that endanger my life every single day. But yes, I can't wait to hook up, so if you are reading this today, my phone will be on-hook both today and tomorrow, late in the afternoon, and I'll make it a point to be home. Gimme a call, and we will really catch up on some big shit. We can go as far as you wanna go, and when you say stop, we'll stop, no prob. But you do need to know that I work directly with rappers with real street cred and real connections, and I am here to tell you, I want no parts of the music industry, ever again, NONE. Still, I am in a poker game with the forces of this world, PP, and it may appear soon that I am trying something, but it's only to prove my civil rights have been violated all of my life, so that I'll be able to hire the best attorney out of Harvard Law and sue literally for billions in damages, I do have lots of proof that both of us were messed with, and stopped, but I am not here to convince you of anything, so we will just have a nice fun talk. Go Phillies, talk to you soon bud!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Be good everybody, it will pay off!

END TWANSMISSION, WABBIT, WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!