Babylon's Behemoth no longer blaming her horror

This is a story about what happens when a mother's consequence for her daughter causes that which caused the mother to so cause.

But of course it is also ablout how Bablyon recovered and escaped from the Behemoth.

It is an early and tedious effort in practising the Art of Writing, yet sustains a story in need of telling, dispite the grave danger to the reader which it inhabits.

Blaming Her Horror
Became it real

of words lost to posterity,
of Revelations

a Blood
Curdling
Tail
Of
Innocence
Maintenance

To find out if Her Mother can ever Forgive:
this once only opportunity of prose and poetry, copyright October 2005 to anungarrayididit.copas;

Is available at a sliding scale of:
$ 28.00 for actual costs covered copy I will afford to provide through the postal service to cover my end
thereby retail recommend - GMFYWP –
at $ 30.00 AUS

(that is for the paper copy that was)

Your Natural Will being
Defining existence in knowing
That which not is;
Define I by that which,
While continuing to exist,
You know you are not;
For I will define you
In knowing I am not
But every self essential.

There is a variety of introductory material to this publication, all in warning sincerely felt.

A Spore at the Gate: Beware of Face Value

Her Horror being the story of what happens when a red haired Mason of Islamic Force, during War against Nazism, benefits perversely from the death of a soldier personally acquainted with Hitler and then in killed by the Father his door in Innana. To fore-warn you in fore-shortening your own shadow herein. It’s Masonic virtue being somewhat less Ancient of Day and more Younger of Wisdom: (Perhaps younger of years and lesser of wisdom?), and with Saving Grace attuned for Kiri Eliason; a wife to himself. Please excuse such from War, for younger is the Wisdom able to contain a warring mind in story floor; or was that flaw. Jihad is impossible to insure for. The wahy of the Woman, to enable Her to mother, opposed to that of Her Lover; is ever and only to put her mind to past cause of the daily occurances of her life she perceives as already formed in the negative, while also never before every positive frame for is fallen. For only a Man’s mind can pin point the past of a certain positive future. This being the sounding grounding of Kiri Elaison our shared cause. That having placed my self in the shoes of a suicide bomber my attitude to is ignore. I can only report their Terror is worth the best Hollywood Movie; perhaps why it is an Australian Story, the better of Ned Kelly’s worth, though my attempt to relate may be poor, is more thoroughly copyright than any other spore.
The spore of the biology of consequentiality, of being turned back at the gate, for fully formed mentation of having been getting forgiven as an assault to your own well kempt sore. Beware at the gates of Hell, you who accuse too well, for you can be held for failing to inform. Beware at the gates of Heaven for the Holy are who will to Hell hold you all.

Zen Yen Xenophobe be not
My writing will be less what
You strangely feel accustomed to
Yet you I know will read me true
For an eye on what do you
In money through
This is the story for you
A story about a small certain fact
Yet fact of no small uncertainty that
Of large impact
In which my own is the hat
Being quietly a shell shocking fact
Mine is to insulate its knowledge
Within layer upon layer
Of conditioned scholar-age
Yours to reap in the learning
Of gradual reading
This is no easy read right through
Yet worth it be for you
If you can too
From eternity to now and then
I did not do
138 show you
the only grounds left
whose are Religious, in evidence for Science
and Mystic

Springs Height
At Hallow Tide
The Planet wide
From Purgatory Shore
The Answer
O’Jack with Dreaded Grey Locks
Be you not the light of my Lantern
All Hallow’s Eve
Let Faery and Witch fly
Goblin roam
Their Treasure Trove access exposed
All Saints Day
The first of November
When the Holy fly to guide them
For few among each time
Find their way back Home
All Souls Day
We remember death ever exposed
Jack O’Lantern shine
Spark of night alone
For if my chance in Hell arises
Surely Heaven Well
And if my food they take their chances
Death the treasure and children safe
Living dead no more
Their final closure

Girl I tell my story
I adhere to Moslem habit
By finding cause for
Concurring with my own reason
And this has enabled me
To forgive an old bone
By washing in the Behemoth
Whom I have met
And is named Jack Sparkie
Just for here
. . .

And now in consequence
I never get jealousy
But instead I adhere:
to maintaining Faith in One God,
Allah, and Mohammed His prophet,
Whom through Jesus are forgiving me.

But Who can tell
Why the Men
Are choosing dying
In front of helping
Women with babies
Needing them
Did the women
Let Him hit her
For putting Him in the picture
Understanding greed
Of finding knowledge
Without Father
Women have told Men
Without us
Who can children
Existence depends upon a mother's love
Yet Men instruct your woman
Without Father to Love
No Man can
Thus no woman.

While I Dream some days that Iblis
Is trying to teach me but
I a poor student,
Then other days Jibril
Is showing His sorrow
For the condition of Humanity and
In these Dreams I receive
The sequence has been such
That to maintain Faith I am left with nothing
There is sin around me not mine
And I Dream no colour in
Standing wrongfully accused
Of the worser that I ever
could have committed
To stand by Death's side
When he makes me His wife
For in to blame what I have witnessed
I could never abide life

Yet feel my Dreams true
There is a pattern to
The fear therein
First only proving righteousness
In wrongfulness
Being confusing active and passive
Second the truth in perceiving faulting
A fault only faults perceiver
without being a child such that
Children are who perceive
Far worse than an adult
The wrongs of the world
The Levithan motivated only by
Desire to prove a lie true
Missing what was my lie to
Third this a story telling how
Only lies prove truth
And countering the lies can disprove
Each their own credibility
As a teller of truths
The Behemoth motivated only by
Desire to hide its lie in proving Truth a lie
So stitch it toThe Evil One
But by same gender know your gun

For Fourth it is that
Perceiving these facts
Leads to the blame for all of
Being assumed of you
Thus is the fourth
Ever provident to causation of the first

There follows a real life true story
A Marked Halloween Special about
a Jack-O-Lantern with grey dread locks
otherwise known as:
The Fascist Milita Meets The Aborigine:
A Reconciliation of False Positives
(thre were parts in italics of less movement in the story, but the blogger software is making it difficult today to maintain the italics, and whether you are more interested or not, I don't know, but will like to warn you to realise of: this is a story with dangerous knowledge, thus warnings are throughout)

This is a factual account. You may not yourself be able to believe in it as factual but I hope it never-the-less makes a worthy story. Of course every resemblance to really living human beings is co-incidence. If you are in that boat of disbelieving a good story, then can you pay the service of honoring the Art of Story. There may be a perfectly adequate explanation for my facts seeming unlikely. Perhaps I only extrapolate too far from ordinary occurrences. Perhaps I am more sensible in realizing cause and effect than is ordinarily common. However, pay the service of accepting at least my heartfelt belief that the most ordinary everyday events, while seemingly the most usual and common circumstances, are more likely than not quite extraordinary and worthy tales of Human capacity to survive against many unfavorable surmises. Pay your self the favour of trying to examine those life events that uncomfortably remind us we each have a life to lead singularly and a decent story you also own. Then try at least believe my life as real, at the very least as that your own.

I have written a few tales of my life, all true. Each stringing together a specific set of interrelated facts. This being the most difficultly interrelated of all, and if anything, I intend to err on the side of under-informing. Beginning at the beginning. It is a tale of I being an Australian Aborigine, born in 1968, with some Dreaming predating world war two, and a clear Dreamtime recollection, as we Aborigines can, of existing in re-initiation through the life cells of carbon and silicone, and recollected quite clearly of some of those war years having been collated in form of a dog. I make my self plain, our Aboriginal initiation is ever of existing by will in a form of living matter different from Human. No reincarnation teaching required. No crime and punishment story. Just exist, and you will exist in life of form that reminds best of the benefit of being a Human form. Now I being usually a Roo, and there being a fact that most who exist sometime as a dog, while manifesting decided dogginess in Human form, usually can not recollect their dog been, that some explanation is warranted for my recollection of dog. Living bacteria within silicone structures may well be far and a way too rough a tale to shout any body to, thus . . .

That is enough told of Aboriginality. I will not refer to the initiation matter again. But me being an, is a fact that critically frames this tale because Aboriginality is my reference point, not unlike many Australians, for Everything. I am a white fella, and my life in stark contrast to the Pilbara cattle station strikers who precipitated the Northern Territory Land Rights Act, and though of their same cause; I happen to be known as something of a Nazi. This is my story. But being a known Nazi I will force down your throat some personal opinion before telling it. This story is not tellable without reference to the Dreamtime, that I will try to make culturally accessible to a non-Aboriginal readership, such that you must excuse the loops into semblance of insanity, but as I have marked, this is a Halloween special. So before reading too far, make certain that there are safe guards that you are neither carried off to Faery nor eaten alive by witches nor stuck like poor old Jack, too mean to enter Heaven, and in having tricked the Devil, not even allowed to pass through Hell. Let me promise you dear reader, that the food I leave out at Halloween is marked: “Straight to Hell”, yet whether or not you pass “Go” depends only upon your self. Testable by the Treasure Hunt at the end. Yet you need not eat.

Fascism as a single entity is no more than an attempt, by the despairing, and lacking in skills of observation based faith, an attempt to Reconcile all the varying significant forces upon modern Human society for a New Age. Yet an attempt by individuals lacking simple Reconciliation to their own life. Hence the synthesis of many ideas that is fascism, and informs Humanity of the sorrow of being unable to adequately reconcile alone, appears in many guises, and in its guise are many. Of its guises often even black skin people, and especially holocaust survivors, are able to penetrate and disfigure. What is notable about fascism is that there exists ever a perception of need to be accountable, but it is the accounting methods of, that lost Nazis the war. Accounting methods existing in never-ending loss. The loss that caused children to light candles inside pumpkins to scare themselves; that is a loss to your self desire instead of to God. Fascists are who imagined to be able to lick up every terror, including the worser, and then blame those they prevented from knowing truth to fear. They account at their own living body not mattering; because by habit they imagine an end escape that was never real, and try to reward followers with. Yet not every among felt true rewards in.

True though this story is, there also is a background myth, that in true Nazi style I will relate and disfigure, because I believe it was ever only a temporary perversion of myth, awaiting the blooming of the true. In fact my story disproves entirely a very specific lie that incipiently crept into Human Mythos. It is this: that an elusive biological sister of mine, took false verification from the mind of my former partner, who is the sperm donor of my three children, the insidiously bizarre logic, that her own Nazi whining could be condoned in imagining her own ex-husband, a some time US Recon Marine, was in a former life, General Franco of France, and had confessed to having traveled back in time and possessed Hitler enforcing upon him the Nazi programme; and that there having been a failure in cross cultural communication within only the minds of fascists, proves all attempts at cross cultural communication insane and doomed to fail. That is, doomed unless within fascist mal-cogniscence of universal laws of reciprocity. Like every communication universal laws of reciprocity every are, yet usually the most accurately cognized of our understanding. Such mal-cogniscence, that very many persons attempting to communicate across supposed enemy lines, can be assumed to be culpable for the entirety of every fascist lead decision, is what the Nazi leadership blamed their own existence upon, and within a traditional story of Ancient China. That being rule by the terror of the use of Slug monsters. Additionally such fine and dandy Nazism parading as Mythos, has even claimed to be able to account for Revelations in Jesus forgiving Humanity membership of Synagogue of Satan. Yet while discounting Satan’s work as fascism. There in being the Terror, Satan bears not. While modern Nazis place themselves foremost among the world’s cross cultural communicators, and force insanity upon the blacker in depth of us, who can actually communicate well, and in Peace.

Thus Jack, whom I shall refer to as Jack Sparkie, in honor of children’s celebrations of All Hallow’s Eve, and All Souls Day, fear me, and fear this and every Halloween and lighted Jack ‘O Lantern. This is why I bear the emblem of the Nazi, to cause it the turn to embers every Halloween. There are two further lies that the particular Jack, whom deluded my biological sister told. That every Moslem is a paedophile, and that every Aborigine pokes things into anuses. Adhering to my sister’s single lie that her ex-husband was in a former incarnation General Franco, formed a mass of other, and curiously far more insidious lies that frighteningly seem to have caused that lie. I wish to establish up front some truths, in the hope that this and every Halloween, the candles alight in Jack O’Lanterns can remind us all not to believe that which we can not verify.

Be you Friend or Foe, before commencing reading further of this my Halloween story take to yourself these facts I bear:
Aboriginal is not Myth;
Islamic Faith in Jesus is stronger than that of many Christians, and in Christ they bear;
Aboriginal is not defined by anal rape;
Aboriginal is of culture defined by initiations not all of which belonged to Bhyame, whose original initiation was never anal rape;
Aboriginal is not analogous with paedophile;
Aboriginality is a genetic difference not based in colour of skin, hair, or eyes, nor curliness of hair, or even belonging to any one specific of the studied racial divisions in Humanity of Caucasian, Mongol, and African;
Aborigines genetics are the only genetics containing the genetics of all other races, such that arguments for genetic purity within Aboriginality undermine the foundations of, unless based in the actual Traditions of means of tempering genetics to rapid adaptation that original initiation is;
Aboriginality is not mutually exclusive with Moslem Faith in Islam, and in fact within the tight structures of Aboriginal Kinship units where such still function well, that is in quite well established patterns still, Aboriginal methods of ensuring every account is kept are inimical with the Moslim, that Aborigines can well regard Islam as an enormous single Kinship unit: aligned in locality with Islamic Centers, like any sacred site, and that direct Internationally simultaneous prayer by one fifth of the planets population to Mecca six times each day;
Moslem people neither are able be held automatically aligned with paedophiles, prostitution, anal rape, and other such sin;
Of the Theological question: in Moslem Faith the descendents of Ishmael are adhering better to the covenant God made with Abraham than are many who claim to be descended from Isaac, of whom many truly among, are also converts of Islam;
There are Aborigines whom were converted to Islam by camel traders and spoke Arabic before speaking English;
There are Moslems who are also Aborigines, and Moslems and Aborigines in many communities who are not readily identifiable as either;
Traditionally Oriented Aboriginal Culture is entirely compatible with Islam, in the form it existed among some particular Clans and language groups, while other Clans and language groups may have more readily gravitated towards Judaism had we not all had Christianity forced upon us;
Neither is being an Aborigine nor being Moslim mutually exclusive with Being Christian, there is a simple requirement for Islam to be able to conceptualise Qur’an as having superceded other Religious texts, and Islam as containing Christian thought, while the formally taught Religion of Christianity is not able contain Islam: perhaps this is best conceptualised by the simple fact that the prophesy of Mohammed is more thorough than that of Revelations, certainly never refuting the factual basis of New Testament, or Old;
Islam is in Qur’an an accurate Reconciliation of Old and New testaments inclusive of Revelations such as that which many Aborigines have been seeking, fitting better within and Aboriginal conceptualisation of True Law;
The Black Power movement is in origin and in its most decent manifestations of Islam;
Islam and Qur’an, in impact upon European civilization, are evidenced in many cultural phenomena part of our every day experience, such as: the Circus; Masonry; war against fascism; and modern Architecture; the roots of Islam are as Ancient as of any Religion, of which Animism is Old among;
Traditionally Oriented Aboriginal custom of “True Law” is by definition the exact same thing in meaning as the Hebrew term Kabbalah, or Arabic Ka’ba, and Aboriginal languages actualise similarly sacred words for True Law, that are not heard outside of a sanctified context;
The nature of many of Aboriginal culture is defined in Arabic as Shaytan, and few are even Jinn, and to beware of your concept of may deceive, that you will need to be your self held accountable to, whether of solely Aboriginal identity or solely Moslem, yet put together Aboriginality with assiduously correcting self discipline of Islam and cultural understanding can not escape Jinn;
Aborigines and Moslems both exist in a myriad of cultural differences bound by a single fact each in distinct form from the other, of initiations into the knowledge of the causes of death, in this and in the endurance of recognizing the need to learn not to trick each other and ourselves; in the essential heart of defining identity the two cultures are totally compatible;
Aboriginal culture is not defined by imagining Dreaming is of significance greater than the material conditions of our physical lives;
Culture of any Religion or Creed is by definition, of that which in our mentation, enforces that we attend to any specific details of physical matter as quantifiable in value to our life as lesser or greater than any other, and in the best interests of health and Earth’s environment: in which the cultures of the worlds major Religions: Islam; Judaism; Christianity; and Hinduism; are all complimented by the addition of Traditionally Oriented Aboriginal Animism as a Religion.

Australian Aborigines have had forced upon us conceptions of our original culture that are not true, through the abuses of rape of women, removal of children, and enforcing false initiations upon imprisoned Men: this has been perpetuated to the extent of enforcing imagination that cause can proceed from effect, forced through false initiations to enforce blame but which the persons whom enforced wish to escape their own pain.

Animism is a serious Religion practiced all over the world, and has saved China many times from the diseases of the fear of Halloween.

At Halloween we have even in Christian cultures an opportunity to learn to know those aspects of our self that are more animal than Human, for we must learn to swallow, that animal is every want except that to work, and Jesus forgiveness was never without.

There is a racial characteristic existing among most Aborigines that in the culture of Arabs can translate as a phenomenon called being a Shape Shifter; interestingly enough, eating Halal meat can contribute to causation of.

There is in this modern context in which people of many cultures and races are intermingled circumstance in which it has been difficult for us to communicate to one another the basis upon which we know and communicate the extent to which each of us can accept our own retribution in death, and in this Aborigines and Moslims, who are alike in being able to accept greater suffering upon us each, have been among the most abuse peoples by those who try to take advantage of the suffering of others, as though to their own pleasure. What Aborigines and Moslims have in common in this is only the simple fact of cultural predominance, while usually secret, of means by which there is no possibility of what we suffer for being stolen from us, enabled by the very propensity to accept greater suffering. Such is it that in this story while I claim a victory will be that of the Aborigine, I could never have lived through the experience if it had not been for a local Mosque.

It is a fact that while many occultists have been working to prevent Spiritual Governance of Australian Land being managed by Aborigines, they have misinformed millions of Moslem people about the nature of Aboriginality, and misinformed Aborigines about the nature of Islam, such that Aborigines and Arabs vied for whom has suffered the furthest, when the fact is simply that both were being prevented form working compatibly to the suffering willingly accepted.

At Halloween let your mind roam and believe those experiences we all know to be true but are yet too afraid to acknowledge.

Well I don’t know about you, but in my experience, first hand, of in fact a Harrowing character, who had, and I am shocked with my self to be writing about, had his anatomy abusing my own, such male personage as I am naming Jack Sparkie, who knew, and as I found out in such a compromised position, knew, he had been supposing himself Himmler of the Gestapo and inventor of concentration camps, and was from such a position (in fact haveing trips on drugs into Himmler through whom he was having more drug trips and) experiencing tripping into the life of Hitler, I am absolutely certain that I prefer, in every day and every way, Satan Himself.

God knows Jesus Forgave.

Now what have I, gone and let the cat out of the bag before the story is even begun. Well I guess you will all have to bear with me, in my Post-fascist written form, for taking you to the point of knowing you will need to plod through all the grim details to be informed of enough of the facts to be able, in fact, to bear this tale any credibility at all.

First component of my credibility being that it is detailed within Qur’an what the contextual meaning is of the expression I have used in “tripping”. When drug users have a “trip” it genuinely means that they experienced something that can feel akin to tripping over, over in a second yet of potentially many years of harm done. A Dream of living the life of another person for some time, and usually within an experience of forming mentation that you have controlled them. Few persons are able to assess if they are so being possessed and prevent the person tripping from controlling their behaviour and cogniscence. This is a fact known to many and kept secret from many. A fact of proof of my story. Perchance I am telling the truth in this story about Jack’s tripping in my own company, then there is a vast quantity of the modern economy that is seriously under-accounted, such that I am certain you really want to know. Under-accounted to such an extent that I am reticent to tell any of my knowledge of who and what and how it was that I came to be rape by an English fellow called Jack, in whose Dreams recalls having been Himmler first in command of the SS, and fifth in command of the Nazi party. Just so long as I debunk the Franco did it all version, I’ll feel at rest, and need no extent of faith from you readers that our shared Mythos determines our economy.

Yet you will be needing from me, that in Allah I can provide you with, Absolute Mercy and compassion for any inclination of membership of Satan’s Synagogue, so long as you know Satan’s Synagogue was never a Nazi front. Better to partake of Synagogue in Iblis that turn into a suicide bomber. Better for your own longer term outcome, and remember to praise who is able without.

How many folk are there who commune in social fronts for fascism, imagining that Satan’s Synagogue amounts to no more than using Jesus name to defend the lie about Franco, and would they care to know that a certain Jack was very like Heinrick Himmler’s personality and life story as described in academic historical account, or that I recognized a photograph of Himmler from my acquaintance with Jack and without being otherwise informed than through too far intimate contact. A health freak, of slight oddity in family background, but certainly nothing bearing on the freakish abuse most Nazi leaders are known to have lived through as children. Not that he told of, but his father raised among Plymouth Brethren, he was, and in this day it is that being a health freak is a good cover for also being a serious drug user, and betrayer of familial ties. In fact that seems to have been his favourite pleasure, to betray those whom cause him to be alive.

Sad is, I can not describe how far. Nor all I have learned of thereafter. There were smelling substances in the Hilter Youth meeting places, something like Aconite, that brought to youth a terror of their death; there were child rapists who with that death terror in children’s nostrils forced children to swallow imagining being gunned down in war or becoming child rapists was all that life was about. Sad such that I am needing to know every moment, there is somewhere even a single individual who can prevent me from the want-to-kill of every person whom has ever tried to force similar ideology upon my own children. Jesus is my saviour, and need his salvation I must, for if I did fall to that which my mind is being pushed into day and night, surely would not I be no better than those who did these things to all of us? Till death do us part? If I had faith not in that single individual person who could alongside my sons believe my story, is a state that bears not with consideration.

Jack, who raped me, is of some terrifying social standing, and of many different masks, and he was most enamored with me because inside my own mind and time, he fell back in time into Hitler’s, and believed him self to have caused that which he imagined enabling him self now, formative experience among the formation of Hitler youth. I skirt any disbelief. In his own mind he really was a hippie and a black and a socialist and this and that, and even a Jew, an expert in Masonic ritual and occult initiation, a commander of Chinese Slug monsters, a Rebel bikie, an ordinary drug addict, a health freak, an ordinary person who struggles to be perceived in the best of light, a Human, and imagining to be above all of that a refuter of sin and a despiser of Satan. He even accounts for the Pink Triangle as under his command.

HOLY MYTHOS THE GREAT HEROPASS, help my Prayer for my Mother, I Love her as a child will, and fear to learn of her own ills, to the extent that I have taken such upon myself. I will not protest my innocence, I have a my own fear and used it. But I am yet to brooch the actual beginning of this yarn.

The whole tale begins in my less than happy childhood, though to my parents credit, I would not have it other than their being innocent of every unhappiness upon me from the moment of my birth, landing upon my head, on the floor of Armidale base hospital, 23rd July, 1968. Ants in the brain, I could hear them marching to war in my pillow throughout childhood. In 1972 my pelvic floor prolapsed and remained so until 2002. That would seem insensible yet somehow now explainable in having met Jack, who confessed to having been Dreaming about me whilst using cocaine and other drugs since about 1976. Grey dread, Jack fancies himself very pretty for 49 years old, with a wheat grass habit that supplants the cannabis at the off end of pay week, and crippled from an accident imagining such endurance of pain is protecting him from death itself. My fascist feed lot, that fancied only itself in my knowledge; then once out of it became in front of my very eyes the Behemoth. Jack was determined to find method by which my pleasure. That game of course mine; and I take not pleasure easy. Peculiarly he had a markedly Ancient, Japanese sort of, and traditionalist, perspective upon diet. Perhaps the kind that only can be explained within the unspeakable understanding of a Shinto Shrine. I made certain that despite everything, I enjoyed his company to the hilt, of my sword not his. In every hint of my own self decent enjoyment failing I changed tact, until I ran out of any effective change. I could not afford not to enjoy. Dangerously fun to the point of a sword.wordswordswordswordswordswor Yet the danger of how I account for myself in this, is no more than the danger of Allah's love.

Maybe Jack Sparkie (aka 'soundslike') once picked up a stone from a Shinto Shrine, and failing also to return it, managed to avoid the immediate consequence of. Now if I know anything about Shinto, I know that its teaching is imperative. There is no escape. My mother and father lived in Japan awhile, and be they never to bear what that master of escape, an escape even performed with Nationalist pride, be they never to bear his woe to their own life; he told me that he hates black skin people, was quite frank to the matter in fact. If only he knew what my mother knows, that black is the advantage none can suppose. My white skin advantage is of accommodating greed in acknowledging the need to make every step that you Dream, a step walked, and he knew that advantage too well, well enough that I guess it is few among Nazis who know to prefer the blacker and opposing advantage. So strangely accustomed to an advantage he was in the walk. I guess his walk more Chinese, I have been there of course, and climbed that Great Wall with the father of my three sons, and left all the stones behind. Picking up only a walnut, the one carved with the most Buddha of all available walnuts. Jack despised black skin only in that he believes beyond all shadow of a doubt, that you have to be good to get it. Jack hides his nature better among white. Yet as Jesus taught of the man blind only so others could see; since meeting Jack I have met those allegied to he who are black of skin at the unwilling expense of my own family.

My story somehow is also and obviously tangled in the muck of persons of Aboriginal culture and black skin, openly posing as fascists fighting a war for Land Rights, if there is such a thing. Typical of fascism to suppose there should and could and can and must be. But still I wander from a story order, like life, mine to own. My parents raised me in hope. There was always food and shelter and clean clothes, literature, often a television available, and ballet and music lessons, girl guides and mathematics competitions, and whether we liked it or not all of the above to be attended. Enough nice things to learn well, in the absence of any parental approval, that nice things can never be nice enough, and for survival the practical things I was needing above all else, and above all above anything nice. Hope of a better tomorrow ever present.

My mother told me stories that shocked me, of horrors of rape and war and child abuse, shocked me out of complacency. But why was it that I never received any stories of being a baby? Perhaps her own terror in being my mother, for I have Dreamed now of Nazi Spirits, calling me on an army wireless, attempting to instruct me in their ongoing and imagined winning. While my sister ever the pretty baby, who my mother was so shocked to give birth to already then believing in light of having mothered my self that all her own babies would ever be ugly. Her father told me there was no place for children at a funeral, in my fascination with death and dying ever hidden from my mother’s fear, and in the War Memorial the words my grandfather uttered, of his own world war two experience, were the story of a Man who died after a long dry wait for ration drops in the desert during the second world war. He ran into the airfield and looked up at the supply planes seeing the object of his death in a giant tin can of food. Curiously it is inimical with a story from the indigenous American Tradition. Of the rounding into their death a herd animals, bison perhaps, by chasing them on horseback over a cliff, of which some brave fellow wished for a better view. I like a good story that never dies. Certain in story I am that my family are of providence of that their own children need.

Hope eternal for this my own story. But enough of the supposing you may not be able to believe it, I will. Where next to begin? I was in childhood, and remain, interested in Everything. Curious to a point of fault. Confident in providence to an extreme. Certain that my mother actually was not expressing what she really believed, when she said: she wished she had had me aborted, I could only think, she must love me really because she birthed me. Hope eternal indeed upon the floor of Armidale base hospital.

I have written a few variations of the facts of my childhood, adolescence, and life until almost 34 years old in 2002, and they may be able to stand alone in companionship to this, as worthy distinctly, independently, and companionably to. If you seek in Treasure then Hunt. The story in this particular piece of prose is the exact same story, and if you are analyzing my work for traces of fascism, here, I will give it to you. Yes, it would indeed appear that my distinct approaches to telling my life collate as riddled with fascist device. A platform for this and a stand for that, and in your own mind the audience, is that that. Perhaps mine is a life taken far too seriously for the self decency of humorously poking a stick at it, or perhaps only too subtle to read in without reading out, or is that read out, without reading your own humour in. Though all told, better my self depreciating aggrandizement wait until your reading has taken the story.

Be that as it may. I shall begin this version of my life, in which I have been seriously, even having made certain to take my own slice of fun in the event, still seriously, assaulted by a fellow believing he was living through the self known for having been Lord and inventor of the concentration camp. This is my first effort at writing since, and in the facts of the matter, may make better sense of the rest of my life. Though I must attend to the fact of my prose style having been altered by rape. Himmler had the slaughter of Jews organised so as to make most efficient the extraction of Gestapo pleasure from, and Jack the expert at disorganising a brain. Can you catch, in which story part there is a lie? Every good yarn has one, the lie about a join between two ends. We make it a game, you the reader and I, can you catch my lie. In 1987 I feigned being a long term unemployed youth in order to obtain a job funded by the Commonwealth Employment Programme, that funded, at award wages and conditions, six months, or if you were lucky like I, one year of work. I had been claiming unemployment benefit since November 1986, when they backdated my payments to September because I had then applied for unemployment benefits whilst still in my final year of high school, and they had earlier refused to let my application receive credibility. However I was by then only part time attending school, and had left my parents home. I had enough secondary study already complete for a year twelve certificate. Decent grades and a decent university entry score. Arts at University of Sydney, but I really wanted to do jewelry making, or musical instrument making. I later undertook undergraduate units in anthropology, sociology, history, politics, linguistics (never completed) counseling, community education (never completed), mathematics, chemistry, biology, and anatomy and physiology.

Those never completed were complete in attendance and learning, just not in presenting the learning in a form which the lecturers admired. However every one of those tertiary units was prefaced by an initiating university experience, as an only just unemployed for long enough to be classified by the government as long term unemployed, youth, with a job as a community liason officer, in a radical left wing organization, of a formerly close affiliation with the university. At nineteen my peers were in Law, and Medicine, and Music etcetera degrees, and I an undergraduate of the alternative left wing fringe, and I have not lied yet. I worked at Community Radio 2XX, beginning mid 1987, after slightly less than one year unemployed. A nearly year in which I eventually received unemployment benefit called the dole, and available from the dole shop.

During the year working as a community radio liason officer, I was swamped with knowledge about minorities of ideology and experience, and un-swamped my self with the clarity of perspective in what it is all the folk I liased with had in common. Minority perspective, is only apparent. Such am I that I have experience in the actual reconciling of the vast many differing ideologies that fascists assume and presume to buy out. The first assignment I was given to complete alone involved being nearly tripped over by Michael Mansel, the known to be radical Aboriginal Lawyer, a co-founder of the Tasmanian Aboriginal legal service, and then very recently returned from a journey, by invitation, to Libya.

He was accompanied on the speaking floor by the late Kevin Gilbert, whose story is well known. Perhaps I should recount it but, since it was only briefly later in life that Kevin gave me a secret handshake, thus is a inevitably influential figure in my story. Hoping his relatives with forgive that I have not yet had time to look up the details, and refer you instead to his own self portraitures in printed word. It was Kevin from whom I learnt first about Stolen Generations, in his own story of. I really had a very very sheltered upbringing. Mum always stared at the blacks on the street, and I am reputed to have said “nigger” pointing to a black man as a baby, on Taylor street in Armidale. We were just up the street from where the Aboriginal health centre now is, and the nice old ladies next door had been reading to me from an ABC book, with “N” for Nigger, and my speech had begun surprisingly young, to the embarrassment of the whole neighbourhood. But for all my mother’s staring, my Grandparents warnings not to know about black skin persons lives had taken their toll, and I did not have an inkling at all about stolen generations until I was eighteen. I was so very very sorry. Kevin also is known for having been in prison for treason, or some other such absurdly negligible crime, given that treason in Australia, can amount only to speaking ill of the Queen. Ah who knows what Kevin did, but his English wife’s first introduction to him was seeing his name in graffiti, “Free Kevin Gilbert”, and he is the first black Australian playwright.

Boycott the Bicentenary, they both said; Michael and Kevin. Boycott the Bicentenary. It was up in lights. But my family had taught me that the Bicentenary could be fun, a lot of fun. Lots and lots of free Arts events. Even when we were looking in that old photo album and silence reigned at the viewing of the black faced woman behind the pale children all dressed up nice, nobody said to boycott the Bicentenary. Why? Oh, yeah, all those stolen children, and what was it that Michael Mansel was talking about in Libya. I know it was not a visit for discussing terrorist bomb attacks. Some discussion relating to the relationship between Aborigines and Libyans no doubt. Aborigines have other relations with Moslem people also. There is reputedly a group of Aborigines who were converted to Islam by camel traders, in the Central desert perhaps, or south. There are Moslem Men women and children living in refugee camps in Australia, and Dreaming our Dreamtime with us. Silence reigns. It was in relative silence that I boycotted the Bicentenary. I went along to lots and lots of protests, but did not yell out. Silence of Dreamtime sorrow. I attended only one single Arts event in the whole year that was funded with Bicentenary celebration money, and attended among a group of radical left wing anti-racists called Women Against Racism, or WAR for short. We were disappointed, it was billed to us as a credible use of Bicentenary funding, a performance by black women of course, but what they had to take upon themselves to get that money. We were also in the bad books of our Unionist friendship networks for having attended even the single event funded with a government grant for celebrating the Bicentenary.

I know a Maori woman who was a Parks and Gardens worker during the Bicentenary, and she told me that the large sign in the centre of Canberra City, at City Hill, at the end of the main road coming into Canberra from the North, that read: Celebration of a Nation, and was there throughout the Bicentenary of 1988, was every morning early being cleaned, and re-cleaned again. Masturbation of a Nation? There was no end to the possibility of variation during the 365 day term of the sign. Like was it to the endless queue of peoples lined up outside the Forbidden City to march through Chairman Mao’s Mausoleum for one last look at his face. I wonder what his ghost is about at Halloween, and how long the Chinese will keep it entombed in public view to prevent him incarnating again, and what did you celebrate in ’88?

These are the facts that shaped my youth, making me who I am. I was not openly identifying Aboriginal Ancestry, but never-the-less internally, identifying in the very essence if my being always, remembering.

(while my life subsequently is shaped rather by events such as befriending a Maori woman who sleeps in local city parks, who was working as a prostitute and taking heroin but sought to remove herself from the situation she was in, and whom has disclosed to me that here in Brisbane, there are pimps who force prostitutes to become pregnant, then refer them to doctors who refer to other doctors, for abortions which do not take effect, and that the consequence is enforced childbirth and enforced removal of the child from her, which is done to women so as to force them to contract more tightly for those clients in the brothels, whom might also happen to be child rapists: these things are defined to me by those women whom have experienced such, as systemic problems managed knowingly by organised crime, and in which police are often being deluded by being provided with free prostitutes, whom the police suppose are their own informants)

Not long after having heard the call of my heart and Soul of being an Aborigine, and rapidly making my decision, based soundly in facts presented by the speakers I was recording for work; not long after, I was innocently established by some left wing minority or other as the Convener of the Canberra Bicentennial Protest Group. My importance grew suddenly from being some sweet skinny dozy chick who nobody had laid eyes on before, so was the best face to pipe up at the right moment, unaligned with any faction, with a statement of need to Boycott the Bicentenary: to being a figure of whom others expected words of authority about how to behave in an anti-racist manner. I was in fact quite aligned then with the Anarcho-Syndicalists present, but no one was to know, and my Union membership was of the Australian Social Workers Union. It was at an ACT Trades and Labour Council conference, maybe even an AGM or the like. Can people really have been taking me for a fascist with my track record? But then fascists are after all well known for kind of falling into a situation of seeming to be better organized than real. I should add to that confession of knowledge that I am tempted to access the English policeman’s pronunciation of the word “fascist” as said in a court of Law to my ex-partner. Excuse me if I am wrong in the exact words, but I recollect, it was reported to me, that he said words to the effect of “was it that you shouted, and shouted to the police present: ‘YOU DIRTY FACE KISSED’”. Face kissed, no thank you! Though perhaps he had pronounced face more like the first part of faeces but without the ess. Fas-kist, it is after all the more sensible phonetic pronunciation. But that is the English police. Here in Australia, we have been less adept at police management than have the English. Here in Australia, a fascist is a fascist no matter how it is pronounced, and the correct spelling stands at “F” for father, “A”, “S” for snake, “C” for clever, “I” for it is, another es, and “T” for tower. Odd word that. Odd that I should have come to identify with it, in a statement of its meaning.

Well, within six months odd of the said events, I was traveling to Sydney in an affinity group of other white skin Bicentennial Protestors. Our particular affinity group had chosen to adhere to every single request made of us by the black boycotting population. We were not selling left wing newspapers, though we knew people who were, and we were not marching from Redfern, although we knew some white fellas who had been invited to march from within that Black only zone, or so it had been reported to us. We believed, why wouldn’t we. Black skin people had every right not to feel safe with unknown white skin people in their places on such an important occasion as the march into Hyde Park in Sydney on January 26th 1988. Exactly 200 years after Captain Cook’s landing, and with a City full to brimming with mainly white celebrators of, within which a sizable black majority of protestors, with enough whites in minority among, made a very powerful public statement of disenfranchisement. Albeit in totality the days minority of faces, a veritable mob swimming the ocean of celebration.

But I skip ahead of my self there. Before the march I made a serious incursion into the affinity group that had the direct invitation to march among black skin persons. I was rather put out to have been shunted back into the other affinity group for the march itself, shunted back into the pre-arranged accommodation that was no body was quite certain where, but it certainly was not at the facility provided in form of a squat to Women Against Racism, and I had become separated for the march itself from my every actual affiliate. Affinities were picked within the Canberra Bicentennial Protest Group by a process similar to picking out a girls high school soft ball team. I was last one left without a group and somebody took pity on me. Somebody it turns out with whom I could fend quite well. It was a group of mainly female persons and most of were somewhat older than my self, had completed university degrees, or were really long term unemployed, while I was still in my first year out of high school, and had landed a job to which many of them aspired. It was the hard line feminist affinity group. Hard line social justice fighters. The kind of women who are no doubt in my mind at all, all still, those alive, members of ANTaR, at the very least. That is Australians for Native Title and Reconciliation. Yet all also felt and most likely still feel, that they really wish there was a clear role for a white skin person in the case for Aboriginal Land Rights. Not that there isn’t a role. White fellas are allowed to sign petitions, to stick hands in the soil, walk over Bridges, when anybody bothers to inform that a Bridge walk is on, and work pro-bono if they find themselves being trusted. ANTaR membership performs a succinctly useful function. Some white dogs clan folk have even married black to test their luck, or was it lust, but meaning of course, no insult to the dog, I once was one remember. And every decent dog knows to serve a good master. Donating money however more commonly the function of ANTaR membership than that of marriage broker. Those of us who can afford to would give money to many good causes, but will wonder upon what is the best black cause ‘til the cows come home and until some of the information about such that bombards the black community is feed through to ordinary white folk, who are perceiving most social circumstances in which black skin Aborigines mix with whites as set ups to hurt blacks and so avoid such. Best black cause I have been asked for money for is the local street drunken foray into white cultural abnormality. I always donate if I can spare it, even if it is only five cents, and even if only to give folk a taste of my money so as they know that I am not any old white fella who they might like to blame for being white. My resentment still speaks too strong but, not yet in explaination. Black mob round my way just refused to accept me since I refused to drink grog with them, and there you have it. I wish they would stop taking grog money from white who wish to turn them all into the side show. All that said there are quite a few white skin persons with real honest links within the black skin Aboriginal community. Working together was always the way. Fair and freckled as I am, I rarely access a white identity among black skin people, but argue that for the sake of my kidneys I will assert that I can take it blacker for longer if I stay sober.

So in 1988, I was in affinity with folk outside of my determination, who were all very nice and educated, or heading that way, who imagined women thoroughly sensiblier than men, and who were quite a lot afraid about being a white minority within a black majority who were themselves a much larger minority among whites of the day. Affinity by default, I was heading up to Sydney. We stopped in Mittagong, from memory there was a more curious than most white woman called Cassowary wanting to stop for observance of “The Convoy”. The Convoy is capitalized because we all knew it was far and away the most important event of the day, and the week, and the month and the year. Not simply that there was a convoy however, but that they had important business there in Sydney. The convoy had been in the News media, for cause best told by Gurindji; and for cause of existing. I necessarily understate the event.
Traveling from all over Northern Territory, Western Australia, and South Australia, they had been traveling day and night with little rest, in very crowed and uncomfortable mini buses. That business is to this day one of the single most important events of my life alongside giving birth, and such like. My traveling plans were altered by a lack of affinity in both the driver of my own vehicle, and in the passenger of another vehicle. Lack of affinity with the imminent arrival of the convoy in Mittagong at the Uniting Church. Uniting Churches had been the convoy’s every pit stop, for sandwiches and tea, then back to driving again.

Australia is a big country and the distance they covered vast, well by European standards. Australian Aborigines are accustomed to working very long in preparation for significant business the like of a marked anniversary of Captain Cook’s setting foot upon Australian Soil. Their journey had been made arduous by preparations being disrupted by a death away from traditional land. I recall there being children in the buses along with the women, but also that children’s presence was not readily observable, and I believe this to be an anthropologically significant observation. But I was not there with any Anthropological point of view in mind. I was a single uninformed white girl curious and feeling strangely important about being privileged to participate, even if only in witnessing the events. I do not mean privilege in terms of having acquired something that was not rightfully mine, as too many black folk have assumed of my presence at the said business. Privilege earned and owned by my self, of my own Ancestral Dreaming.
The vehicle I had changed into was the Canberra Rape Crisis Centre bus. I was temporarily housed in it: with an English woman and long term friend who is reciprocally obliged and well known within Gurindji Kinship, and friends with other members of the convoy; with a friend of Irish descent whom had grown up in Africa and fondly remembered her childhood experiences of being in a minority as white; with a friend who knows one of her sets of grandparents to have been Aborigines passing as white, and active unionists; and with a friend who is from Darwin, and was married for many years to a black fella. I was the odd one out, but only by life experience. That is where I will stop typing about any at all of the said business. I receive Dreamtime call that my typing now was tuning Nazis in with then, but that is the Dreamtime, and not for this story time told. Being as how within Aboriginal culture I am regarded to this day as a girl, it is neither mine to write about any Corroboree just now, September 27th 2005. But I intend to continue as this story must be told. Until I can continue at that point of January 1988, as this seems to have ill placed the event, I can refer Aborigines reading to read my other written work. All completed before the stated instance of having been acquainted with some toffee nosed plastic Jack from England who Dreamed of being supreme Nazi ruler within a Chinese Halloween. Bear in mind that this work is somewhat rearranged from its natural Dreamtime sequencing so as to be able to be read by a non-Aboriginal audience.
I began to write in 2003. I found that somebody at the tent embassy accidentally left a pen in my volkswagen bus. A pen from an Aboriginal programme at the University of Technology in Sydney, and left accidentally because I was there to rescue a young Aboriginal fellow who had promised to marry me, only to find he was incoherent, psychologically locked inside a caravan all day surrounded by drugs and a variety of female sexual stimulus, had married another woman, and was imagining that my every thought in mind to him was hers and I just some dumb white Nazi, while he himself behaving like one, bar the guns or fun. I had had my nose broken and so was glad of the pen, even if he meant for some dumb lust infested black bitch to begin a writing career with; while he had Dreamed me a pen. They were using lots of drugs. Using lots of drugs and blaming me, my children, and family, for all their use of. Apparently I was, when I first arrived at the tent embassy January that year 2003, and it was now Easter, meant to be performing some vast miracle of providence to the pleasure of them all then in attendance. My young friend not yet. But I had dismissed their on-site management as a set up to hate and to take drugs and imagine that the police were on the side of Aborigines so long as you took the drugs, shut up about the source of, and let any dirty fella stick any appendage within any of your orifices. Not surprisingly I was radically disliked, yet to the point of semblance of emulation. All ahead of the young Man in question expressing intention to marry me, before he married a black bimbo with her hair dyed red, and the found pen thereafter.
Kinship? I asked a certain proclaimed site elder about what the tent embassies work was aligning with. , but all she said was, “we had that idea first”. She only proved to me she has long lost her original “we”, and thus inadvertently put the task on my hands to prove to her “we” that she is not a member of, nor of my “we”. What ever it meant, and whoever is your “us” and “them”. I met some body who was a member of the same family in Sydney in January 1988, and they bought us then Chinese take away, but none of us wanted it, even though we were hungry. We were all, those of us in that Rape Crisis Bus, invited there for dinner without being certain why, and all I knew was that even though I was very hungry and being invited to eat, it could be very bad to. I had no idea why, why the invite, nor why bad to eat, yet worse not to attend. In January 2003 I spent $40 on fish and chips for all at the tent embassy, and my mother gave somebody $40 to take my children to the science centre, but the children report they never were taken. They were certainly taken out of my field of attention though, and on the premise of being taken to the science centre, and not by whom my mother gave the money to, but by some fella who, like most there, was denied access to his own children. I was frightened there. Glad that Warlbiri Baptists took my children from that place a few days later down to the river, when, but that’s another story inside this that bears not the telling just yet. I began to write in 2003, quite unaware of the potential consequences. One consequence though being having now paid in full for that Chinese takeaway, by my contributions of writing to the tent embassy.
I wrote first about my self and my observations. That piece of writing is still kicking about, but bears not being well aired for then I was experimenting with language use, and had not yet the hang of fluidly altering style between Aboriginal English form and form more common among English speakers. I may yet air it. The next thing I wrote apart from letters was a very long affidavit for court, but that bears not telling either. The containing of the story in it had prevented my writing progressing between July 2003 and July 2004, but then I expressed it in standard Law speak, and began again to write. I wrote a large essay called “Hello Reconciliation” and posted it to a variety of people and places whom I had in mind as perhaps being concerned with what I had to tell. Then in 2005 I wrote an even larger essay called “I have a voice that needs to be heard”. Then I wrote littler things, and longer things and littler things. Much of what I wrote during this year 2005, I have posted to as many persons as to I could afford the post. Lots of them were posted to the tent embassy, because I chose to take my writing through the process of a consultation within the Aboriginal community, like any white writer is expected to by the Australia Council when their writing touches upon the stories of Aboriginal Australia. I received one single piece of feedback. “You do not need to consult, you are one of us.” Glad I was then not one of those the tent embassy regarded as of Aboriginal identity, and glad I consulted, gladder still of the positive feedback.
Now while I may utilize the Halloween special to in fact promote my earlier writing for what it is, I need assert that it has fallen into the hands of actual factual Nazis through no fault of my own, and I bear not what they did with it. Yet thus my written work has taken upon itself, and my self the author, a phantasmic proportion. Thus the story of my writing is in fact quite critical to the entirety of this particular story. The exact order my work was written in, is factually ordinarily important to the fact I am alive. My writing is intrinsically connected with events. Events like the Land Rights protest at the opening of New Parliament House. My mother was on the formally invited side and took good photos of the protest, to my juvenile shame on the day. I was sad that day and unclear as to why, and there was a bit of business told to me about the mosaic made in the foreground of the New Parliament House having had a dampening bit of magic woven over it, that had distressed those whose Art it is. Events I have written to include the establishing of my relationship with the Aboriginal tent embassy. Events dating back to 1988, and events in which I have been systematically silenced. Was it because while I am asleep in the dearth of my ongoing childhood Dreaming experience, others noticed that I, unbeknown to my self, displayed imagery and actions in minds, associated with Nazis? Because I will, when I am sure of a believing audience, assert definitively exactly who did what. I know their game now, every game there is, I have learnt whilst functionally only a grown up child, or I could not still be alive.

The game of grey dread is to taunt you with not knowing the game you are in, but I knew a bigger game, of Aborigine play, yet certainly one not many Aboriginal persons know, apart that is, from their own role in, and that is Aborigines strength, it is not a steal-able game, not from any individual, nor even tribe, or race. To know what is really only yours alone is to know better than anything else, and makes those who want to know your weakness stark in their own. Thus fascism. They who believe us not will pay. I learnt that Adolf Hitler imagined in massacring thousands upon thousands of Jews, Romani, Socialists, and ordinary folk; that he could justify his rapes followed by murder in pretending such were Aboriginal initiations, forcing millions to become animals by lust, terror and force without Human cause, only for the Gestapo’s pleasure. I know with every certainty, that while I was raped for knowledge of Aboriginality, it was never from me that white fellas were misinformed that Aborigines are made animals by lust. Take my story in my wholehearted expression that I will pay for every ounce of my own culpability in, to the Jews, Romani, Socialists and even every small time crook who was effected by the holocaust. Measure my culpability your self. Why was I not with the black Man whom had, in collectively shared prophetic Dreaming, been determined to father the child I now carry, and whom I tried to get through to at the tent embassy by every available means for thirty months before being accosted by Jack. The Nazis wanted to game with Aborigines so badly that they turned my childhood self into their resemblance. A fascist they wanted in me thus my own brand of they get. Similarly black.
Serious this is, if you are yourself a person in sacred knowledge, as I, of Magic’s white and black; Kabbalah, Ka’ba; and Dreamtime secrets, be certain of who you share bodily fluids with if ever at all possible, and use a condom with every of until you know them well. I knew far more than any girl was ever meant to, my Ancestral Dreaming been denied Husbanding in, and that is the crux of how Jack became Grey Dread, the Pumpkin Head.
The grey dread of Jack who spent years on drugs tripping forward into my life, I observed again just last Friday 22nd September, when I was most frightened to see him in fact, waiting in King George Square for me. Already after a few, perhaps a few too many, acute changes made in my life, to shake him from my tale. Extreme lengths I went to, to shake him, in having noticed that he had lost count in our now mutual game. Is it any wonder, he played with folk who know our self. Dating back into a German history, the advantage can be clearly shown as mine. I hurt to pay for this first, and among my children; only those falling to the likes of Jack can forget that it is not who perceives the win first who wins, but who pays for it first. Never the less I am in trouble in the National Aboriginal Dreamtime experience. But trouble with those whom already despised me in, and in fact had sold me to Grey Dreaded Jack. So my response, abandoned without support, none believing my tale, was to sell the whole Aboriginal Dreamtime to Satan. Oh well, His Grace’s I am. And lessons in handling Grey Dread and Slugs I am learning. Most of us Aborigines the Nazis try to play are unassuming, and invisible in our Aboriginality, and or not long now soon enough to be. Yet there are Nazis identifying us while we are not ourselves openly identified as Aborigines. Jack it seems was Dreaming along with us for quite a long time, and is long and closely acquainted with a specific individual Dreamer based at the Aboriginal Tent Embassy. Jack has serially expressed having very old Dreams of me! Old so old, (I was not even born yet), but Dreams not as old as he (he made amply clear, his recall of self, very very old in deed of reflection is him self and Spirit Mokuy). Jack spoke of Dreams, not as old as he an Ancient Chinese monster, there in front of me in grey dread physicality, but older than having been Himmler, older than a son of a Mason from Norfolk, and the Plymouth Brethren, whom he cited as of psychological abuse equivalent to the Hitler youth, some 2000 years odd old in fact. Claim he laid to own these very old Dreams from former incarnations, Dreams in prophesy of meeting me, that caused his spiritual being to emigrate from the cold of the far east, via the utmost northern reaches of Human habitation, to the cold of the west, in search of an elusive win of world power. Now that is just absurd, he was a drug addict! As drug addicted as the folk at the tent embassy, who also chased prophesy about me, that I would trick with use of copyrighting. Yet he was more singularly obsessed in use. While I only blindly obliging.
For those who know of such devices, not to mind too far, I have a gold charm of a Shinto Shrine. So why on Earth was he on a quest to find out what is Aboriginality? Why through me? Have his own original tribe set him up by ever exonerating the mature age of the beast? Dirty way he went about being in clear temporal defiance of life most astonishingly well experienced in, and hope was, some time in that at least he realized his: what his dirt is, his rationale for bumping Hilter into warring against Stalin well defined. Jack knew that the Nazis were unaccountable while in. Little hope that there could be for he. Jack’s attitude to War and hate: when you notice you have lost count, of your own self, to then begin to kill faster in a whole army suicide effort, don’t you know it makes sense! Jack counted the faster to cause he own death and future in the womb of the family of a commonly more decent, if child hating, soldier. Jack was proud, he at least had tried to take account. God knows Satan’s Grace. What is the Nazi trigger for beginning to count? Can Himmler’s kind take mine of need for never endingly accounting, while giving to Satan every miscount? And might I suggest that too many folk, either began to count too late, or failed to trust who was actually accounting. May I warn that if you ever have stopped accounting for yourself, then live only in trust of those who began to when you stopped, because I have seen the dangers of trying to begin again impossibly trying to backdate the full record while also trying to count living as pleasant. Count what you can in its moment and let fate; knowing you a Soul is ever account. Sad is: a fellow with mind to having been Himmler, imagined in seeking the truth of Aboriginality to have found it entirely, but in Aboriginality imagined initiating is an excuse to kill, and in such desired to take responsibility for what Hitler had done to his own youth, to the extreme of hallucinating having been; and all to the ends of finding means of winning against me, of pursuing only and simply finding a way to give me pleasure, so to find what I know that Jack can not. I learnt that in his company the longer held out from pleasure is the worser when. Explaining my being in his bed at all, the more gratification he expected the longer he waited. But that is enough of the Mythos concerning. Let me return to my seriously exposed life story.
In January 2003, they there at the tent embassy, in Canberra had found of my self by their drug use, that I had Nazi detail in my own Dreaming. If any child’s Dream not of bodily behaviour, and not carried through lives gone past in gold inheritance, can be counted as owned, it must be by choice, such that if it was theirs already and they the deluded, it is mine to hold them to owning. But those really are only the Dreams I never then had seen. I could not have known why they disliked me. I assumed it was my white skin, in fact somebody said it there of a woman who had punched me repeatedly, somewhat of a Nazi I hear, but with a black skin preference, she hates anything in white skin. One particular day I was assured of safety there on the basis of her having another white woman to hate close to her that day. I really do not know if the tent embassy drug using crowd found Nazi coding in my Dreaming; I was oblivious to before or after I was punched, and kicked, on the ground, in January 2003, then again, and again. I first ever noticed any signs at all of Nazi Dreaming last Friday, talking to a fellow who lent me some books belonging to a skin head friend of his. I borrowed so as to find out, exactly what had stuck on to my self and my Dreamtime persona, that others could see and I not. That was immediately before the Jack showed his vested interest and intent again, catching me by surprise the fifth time. I showed him the books. If you happen to have met me, and landed Nazi insignia from me in your past, consider bearing in mind that he is quite overly curious about my past, such that he imposes me even upon his own past, and himself upon mine. In general while awake I have excellent self discipline of mind and behaviour, thus am safe to meet. But in my sleep, God knows, and a sadistic rapist murderer seeks. My self I am pleased as punch to know now why I was Dreaming often enough of being chased in terror on and off much of my life. I can not remember most of 37 years of Dreaming except running from rape and murder, while being accused of failing to perform miracles. Take me in this, at least I have means through, and Human cause, and reason knowable. I need not look. Yet need meet the beginning of the paragraph. There are gaps in wrong places.

Somewhat later the month I was first bashed at the tent embassy, after having been explicitly invited back, I was screamed at by the same woman, in an “how dare you come here” type vein. Immediately thereafter she let me win the argument with a mild and quiet retort. Odd, but then she openly told the young Koori girls whom she had been mentoring, that now it was best to get to me by just yelling a lot at me. I wonder if she thought I was deaf, or just too thick to notice what she was at? She hurt my ears. I proceeded to get on with the task at hand, such seeming the sensible thing. I had been invited there to celebrate a seventeen year old resident’s birthday. She was a character, like grey dreaded Jack, hanging loose, and in an environment in which it was assumed any girl was every man’s property. But touch her and risk the rest of your life in prison! Touch her not and fail to live up to her prescription of supposed cultural standard, but nowhere else except the tent embassy, and other holes governed by strange East Asian Occult ritual. Levithan. When they there touched me, I was curtly informed that if I prosecuted for rape the whole set of people present would testify against me. I hear that the young fellow who wanted to marry me, became quite deluded: deluded that I had never liked him; deluded that I had never existed; deluded that I had died; deluded that I was somebody else; and deluded that if he came near to me he would end up killing me in irritation with me falsely accusing him of paedophilia, and be sent to prison to boot; all only after sex with that particular seventeen year old. I did not know that yet then at her birthday, in fact had not yet then even met the young fellow concerned, although he certainly was there that day too. Another young woman approached me. She had been a girl only the week or so before, and in decent health, but by the look in her eyes, and now her eyes had the look of a woman advanced in years and without much knowledge of her self, all yellow and orange, I was fearing the level of substance and sexual abuse she had been exposed to with in the short time since we had met.

She nastily asked what I was doing there. I happened to have noticed that nobody was blowing up the balloons and to have begun such task. So I distinctly said that I was attending to blowing up the balloons in my hands. She became annoyed, then suddenly calm, her eyes black again, and proceeded to help. Her being the young woman who later married the young man who had wanted to marry me when we met, after this occurrence, but before events later, when she with hair dyed red became his wife against our Traditionally Oriented Kinship. He had wanted me until he was exposed to the same treatment as she had been. I received mental images from her of needles upon needles upon needles, of need to let any man fuck her, and of need to enforce anal rapes upon all new comers to the tent embassy. In January I had narrowly escape from such, and had been beaten physically in consequence. It seemed quite clear that this particular young woman, and quite likely others akin, had been set up to assume what ever absurd function it was that the tent embassy had hoped to set me up to. Gee, I really come across like a fascist don’t I? They tell nasty truths fascists, but then I like that game, being good at it. Too easy they said of me at the tent embassy, sure as eggs that be a game too easy for me. The young woman corrupted certainly seemed to insist upon a right to assume my self and my life story as her identity. I forgave Her herself. Too easy in deed. But then. In large part Forgiven is she so as that what ever it was she had been set up to was mine to alter. I really am fond of that young Aboriginal Man.

About a year after my departure from the tent embassy it became apparent that they imagined I was to be their downfall. By then I was happy to make my self their downfall, but when actually on site in Canberra, I had been quite in support of the good cause that began a National Australian Aboriginal Tent Embassy, back in the early seventies, and again in the eighties, and then again in the nineties. Land Rights that is. The Land need be within the control of the labour of those who take ultimate responsibility. That is a clear point nobody can refute. Ironically I did not find out how they imagined I would be their downfall until well after first writing about my experiences at the tent embassy and copyrighting my work. They seem to have imagined I was planning a massive rip off of copyright upon Aboriginal literature. When I finally noticed what they imagined of me, I could not fathom the insidiousness with which they had accepted my own Aboriginality and Aboriginal identity to my face, then denied my identity and genuine participation within Aboriginal culture to my family, and publicly. If they did not want my writing to be known as of Aboriginal origin, and imagined themselves, and on behalf of all of Aboriginal Australians, better off if I was just some dumb chicky babe ripping off their copy right on cultural property, they ought to have thought again. Perhaps even consulting with actual Aboriginal Elders, rather than only fly ins, could have worked for them. After all I was identified as coated in Nazi Dreaming. Instead they accused my writing of assuming an Aboriginal identity falsely, while Traditionally Oriented Aborigines face to face are ever more inclined to accept me, and that is something. I have become so seriously disenfranchised by tent embassy bad mouthing of me, that I oblige them a false identity. They got their own prophesy fulfilled through me. God, what have I caught? Am I fulfilling Nazi prophesy; but?

At Easter 2003, my nose was broken at the tent embassy, by the same previously mentioned woman I forgave, and her sister. I was trying to make a direct communication through to young Ray in there, the Man who Loved me better than any other had. Failing to get through to him, and observing him bodily imprisoned, and his existence being openly denied, himself too drug effected to communicate, I with my broken nose eventually, made my own dance on that Mosaic, the 1988 Parliament mosaic. A Dance of original intention True. A Dance through the focusing of energy into the sensations of a broken nose. What has become of that Dreaming?
Here is another pertinent fact. Somehow somewhere along the line, somebody, or some few bodies, in connection with tent embassy noticed that if in fact they had been lied to and I was not a fucked up bitch on heat, that there could be big trouble. Big trouble if I turned out to be true, I a girl, and in credibility among those who were ever destined to protect me once the full set of evidence, mine to provide, had come through. Big big trouble, but not as big as somebody, or somebody’s made for them selves very very recently to writing these words. Trouble by imagining being me and some brother fucking while they themselves were: fucking, that is. They themselves proving only their own culpability, for having been forcing that yukky sexy-un bullshit poopy genital desensitization in through the locks of 1988, by theft from my sleep. Seriously Nazi Jack when raping me, had the courtesy to let me pretend to have fulfilled, for a few short weeks, that I could protect my self from the actuality. That is he has given me some cover requested of him in pretending I really did get fucked with a brother, so as to be able to my self find the buggers who tried to do to me, to have did my self so done, fucking up BIG. Done I am, can’t falsify a story like that without taking it as if you had. Nazified. With some young seventeen year old whore in mind, wondering what kind of identity she has acquired, in penance of avoiding the Synagogue of Satan. Oh, yes that is right, her perception that only so as that the Aboriginal community, of only those Aboriginal folk imaging every dream of pleasure one for the taking in activity instead of only receptively as is our Aboriginality defined by, only so as they communing in pleasure, could imagine their victory over me. Was not that my purpose? Plenty of folk imagine so, and well if everybody . . . Hang on, the reason I identified was to help re-build Traditionally Oriented Culture, too bad dudes, no lust. No lust, and no being sane in any thing at all only because everybody else seemingly. Nup, no lust, even pretending lust, an act of incurring the expense of, and need be without the pleasure in. Even at Halloween no lust for me, though I can’t say of the Aborigine version of a faery. We have plenty of Ants that fly. For my own account Thank God the pretence is without the pleasure. Hey tent embassy and druggy dudes, look what happened see, first that Wayne fucked me in the anus, then a stranger in the cunt, or so it seems, and all only because I asked for my Aboriginality to be legally verified: what has got into you lot, and where is our Kinship. At the health centre they hand out certificates to those whom ask and have appropriate evidence. Yet appropriate evidence, if not a full set of certificates, counts as some fella sticking his penis into a hole and giving a nod. A joke of health funding has become true. Asking for certification of Aboriginality is exactly what got the ball rolling with my having been stalked then raped. Jack put up his hand, he could do the job of assessing the status of my Aboriginality. Why? is too bizarre to contemplate. I was clever to have avoided the worst if you ask me. Clever enough but to have landed the worser . . . ?! Knowledge is that actual Nazis are handing out false Aboriginal identities to those who prove how hard they can hurt by forcing to lust. One who so was is a non-Aboriginal fellow with white skin mentioned within these pages, and an established tent embassy visitor, there readily accepted, without his own Aboriginal identity. Seems he turns up there for the enema. The prossies on the streets of Brisbane are handing out copies of your self there young Ray, beware. Not a single person ever yet could have adopted an Aboriginal identity in Dreaming and had it manifest as the actual biological alteration we exist as. So then, who is Wayne?

Now I know that really folk could be only trying to prevent those with actual lust of body from re-identifying as an Aborigine from within white skin, when they stop white from identifying with latent Aboriginality. Some pure racial genetic maintaining thing. But the way folk have been handling it, all our pure black racial genetics could have died out by the time people are happy about having enough folk with lust to blame for their own perfect housing. Our Aboriginality is necessarily needing not to be dependent upon a Soul to blame. So what is it then exactly? a moot point? even among us? I guess that as Satan’s are Masons will Nazis be the Aborigine’s. Aborigine’s in specialist formula, vastly more accommodating of Terror somehow? Vastly more than most other Earth beings, for Heaven’s Angels take the hurts to their self further, and weller.

I have put in a vast amount of wondering on racial relations in my situation, that is before being accosted with fascist mentality, before the contexts were so blatant. And what is stark in every communication equation of racial relations is that fact that the problem was never German and blonde, nor Chinese with very straight hair, nor black skinned with red hair, and not even of any particular culture. Yet it seems also overt that the application en masse of the culture belonging to any one specific racially distinguished people, onto a people with racial features of physiology at variance with balances adjusted in genetics over thousands of years to specific climates and habits of behaviour and diet, to that first mob, causes at least some difficulty with the transmission of diseases. The Chinese, for example, are adept at accommodating mass psychosis, without attempting genocide against those with the most significant knowledge; while the same governing strategy applied to blue eyed blonde people could be what scared them too far to object. There are individuals who have trained themselves to be enabled to traverse differing cultures with ease. But few we are and far between, and not readily racially distinguishable. There is no plausible reason to hate any specific race by difference from any other, nor of culture, but while this is an obvious fact, I yet need to state it. There may be Nazis reading you see. Fascists whom have been trained to perceive racial difference without the full set of facts available to me.

So if we as a Human species are more susceptible to disease, of mind as well as body, when folk of one cultural habit have another imposed upon them, surely in cross cultural communication we need each be able to adopt the tolerance to wait for each other to catch up. Be mindful also whilst reading, diseases culturally imposed are cured by techniques within the culture imposed as well as the original culture; and in this bear not in my writing any racism against the Chinese. Their medicinal know how we need, in having adopted their diet, stories, and monsters. Those darn slugs seem to be imagining that since they are now Caucasian they have been cured of Animism that previously caused them to appear inhumane aligned with their behaviour. Let us see, perhaps between the Australians and Chinese can manifest a means to catch every last slug, and werewolf, and bug. A Chinese whisper I received via a New Zealand connection was please to stop those slugs, they are cruel to dogs. Aborigines better to find out why the Chinese never fell quite so far as Hitler and company forced the Germans. Facts of difference are: Taoism is an Animist Religion; Chinese culture contains a story in about the coming of Buddhism in which the Slug monsters were all salted; and what else can you see? Is the solution to the Nazis so called ‘final solution’ that never could finalise, only to salt fascists with their own animals stock standard disease of appearance in Dreaming, because only real fascists look a monster while us mob who landed their identifying insignias merely look well pleased to have been noted when salted.

However, slug monsters aside, I wondered while tent embassy affiliates were blaming me for not fucking, while portraying me as though I had, and portraying me at to other Aborigines who blamed me at having, for having had what I have been narrowly escaping repeating. Is it all a big joke on the Aborigine? Let me wonder. If we all, that is all of us who identify with Aboriginal Ancestors, and are known to a black skin Aborigine as being identifiably understanding of Aboriginal culture, ticked the box at census time marked ‘Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander’, we could bump up the percentage of Aboriginal population from 2% to 10%. That is if black skin Aboriginal estimates are credible, some white skin folk have said 30% in country NSW, but surely not that high? The statistics would get all out of kilter. Defend the Welfare dollar! What, by maintaining poverty of identity? Perhaps it could be a good thing. If the next Australian Census shows that seriously less of the Aboriginal population are in need of welfare assistance what could change? No extra funding for study, or special housing and health. But then government would seriously have to address the conditions within the Australian Education system of racism perpetrated against any students with black skin. Really it never was extra being handed out, just part of the total pool available to every Australian, with a bit aside being accused of getting overspent on Aborigines. Was it never our Aboriginality that caused the negative discrimination? Lots of us white Aborigines never experienced any barriers in education. Hang on, is that true, maybe we did. Maybe we kept quite about our Aboriginal ancestry so as to even be able to obtain an education. In the experience of every individual I have spoken to who has tried to re-identify, such has to date been the case. But need that be the case? I guess that is the real question. Are we hated by simply our identity being essentially based in Land and that which maintains Her, this Land our Home?

So what if we all ticked that box, and the actual demographic of persons of Aboriginal descent becomes clear. Clearly as intelligent, well skilled, and resourceful as any single Australian demographic. Are we in fact 30% of the population in every state, I seriously doubt it. Is it the case that all the discrimination is based upon the fact of Aboriginality being a statement of prior ownership of Land; or is much of racism a simple jealousy of black skin looking good? The slugs hate it only because they know it looks better and only early on in the process of becoming a slug was black skin ever able to be maintained, they really would prefer to be able to get black, but as a second best like not to stand out as second rate. Is the reason that more white skin Aborigines are not identifying caused by potential racism within the system of Euro-centric government we are now unfortunately accustomed to, or is it fear of black skin communities with a “every white owes us our entire life” attitude. Given my example, why would any other white Aborigine identify? But of course, only because we wish to no longer fall into Nazi and Slug monster stories. We are fallen. Wake up black fellas, only from genuine commitment to Land Rights, Kinship, and an end to our true identity being assimilated, why the hell else would a white skin Aborigine want to identify with you mob, you are all too busy looking good, right? Right. We are a Nation under fire for 215 years, so severely that many have hidden their motivations like Schindler did. Hidden our race, but hopefully not behind fascism. Maybe many Aborigines want to elude being identified as part of a community who are dependent upon government handouts, and that is why many of us are white skin and no longer identifying? Is it? Or? But what really could the result be if the census showed a sudden alteration in statistics among the Aboriginal population? Seriously, could the social standing of an Aboriginal identity be lifted by such? 2% Black skin Aboriginal, and 55% white skin cats and dogs. Could such pressure the government to question why it is that all black skin persons are discriminated against in the areas of health, education and housing? Even provide resources to ascertain correctly exactly what is the cause of such discrimination.

Within the identifying Aboriginal community, there is a strong held belief, based in concrete experience, that being obviously an Aborigine because of black skin causes an additional layer of abuse. At the tent embassy I hoped to encourage black skin people to notice that it really ain’t all of us white dudes who hate black skin so much. Bit naïve wasn’t I. In fact I have made an open stance that black skin Aborigines are going under in the Human soup of the economy so fast that it is past overdue that we white skin Aborigines begin to re-identify. (can I get away with that while maintaining any Nazi affiliation? Oi, you, can I?) Wake up white fellas, to that, if we ever want our black skin genetic back . . . you see most of us are white by choice of inter-racial marriage, beating the invaders at their own game, not because we were too dirty. What a laugh, in the context of the serious discussion I had with ‘he who was Himmler’ about the properties and varying advantages of different coloured skin. I won. Why dudes why? Why beware either black skin or white? Who bewares the un-hairy, the blue eyes, the brown hair? Are a few note-worthy genetic combinations far less sustainable than others for longer life, genetics of the entrapment of Dreamtime monsters in their own self hate? And is that why they claim to hate black? Perhaps such are only the other end of the stick of my proclamations of Aboriginality being a genetic improvement. But really am I a Nazi, what is the definition of? While coated in the symbols of Nazism, I know I didn’t do the Holocaust. Yet my own body a factor to pay for. Take that black, Nazi, Black.

Jack who Dreams Himmler has an immense aversion to any semblance of being portrayed as an animal in self; while over there in China the babies are just so cute with their little hoods and beanies with all sorts of animal ears knitted to. Jack is here in Australia and Dreams among the blacks who hate whites as readily as among whites who hate blacks. So while census form boxes to tick, if they say slugs, will never be ticked except by those who try to pretend to be one to catch them, and boxes that say Bilbies will count in the thousands of Australians defending endangered species; there are no Alien abductions in this story. If there were any boxes to tick that said Alien, an Alien might write beside the slug box, slugs are a disease not a category of life, and then leave again having programmed us for reforestation and left Satan in charge of. If you doubt my sanity in questioning these things, you need only look to the television: Sex in the Bush, I saw the other night, yes indeed folks, all about us. Is it the Aborigines disguised as white fellas at the ABC TV station poking a stick at the Rosicrucians invitation for a show of a Chemical Wedding? Hope springs eternal.

Meanwhile All Hallow’s Eve aside, I have come to understand why black skin folk continually insist whites need to take on more and more acceptance of death. But only in understanding also, it is not OK to enforce what many white skin people were not letting themselves be forced to swallow upon me, only because I agree, and in that I am and I have been. Swallowing, and not the only with white skin. We are not all slugs, only those white skinned actually hating themselves to have maintained camping at the tent embassy. And there is no single genetic imperative for any individual to accept more death, only behavioural imperatives. No matter how much death I swallow in forgiving a black Man, never could I have swallowed His sins of the flesh. But keep taking it folk, because I can. Even at he who Dreams Himmler, a Jack, and an arse fucking slug warrior. (While he who Dreams Hitler, is not far away begging in long lost walks of the street that I forgive him instead. But I am not forgiving Himmler! With Eva too then was it Hitler? Oh then, if it is like that, I guess I can. Hitler has happily wriggling toes.) Oh but it turns out that it was that young seventeen year old at the tent embassy who was first to imagine I would take her instead of my Husband, to my death. (She even provided for Hitler’s toes, such that I can not begrudge him.) Catch them all could I? And which is thee I forgive: up close or far off? None before my son, I am my mother’s daughter. Readers are you following, and have I scared the big scary Nazis yet, or have you not got it yet either? Remember that slugs suck on the self within us that knows it will die, only to blame who had and forgets of by. Especially beware though of trying to gain anything at slugs expense: of Jack who Dreams Himmler, disallowed even from Hell. While Hitler forgiven, will I tell.

It is by slugs of any land, no land, and every land, doing, that the word Aboriginal associates in many minds with imagery of beautiful young black girls in the back of pick up trucks waiting to expose themselves, but I hadn’t noticed such images among the blackness of my own Dreaming. No wonder my own mother wishes to refute an Aboriginal identity. Black skin racial characteristics of Aboriginality are much harder to refute than an identity construct among the vast array of physically molded white skin people. But of my Aboriginality irrefutable and white I will not reveal on All Hallow’s Eve, that any monster the more monstrous I. If there is an alteration in statistics at census time could the result show that funding needs to be directed at persons whose circumstances in childhood prevented them from readily meeting their needs? My parents were monsters so I can not get a job. Well if you are also a monster, it is no longer possible to pension you either, we have salt for you. Is it the case that Aborigines are assumed in identity from among a set of disenfranchised and underprivileged type casts, that each such type cast need be addressed distinctly from Aboriginality of biology or identity? Returns then upon the type casting. Type cast monsters as Nazis as almost any thing and every thing except children; and but above all relying upon the physical evidence of it their own body, provision of the body-physical, while simultaneously determining that, it, the body-physical, really is only an it, that they imagine it the physical evidence, need be dismissed as less than mind or real. Hang on, what is then Nazis? If both relying upon the physical to know what they need and refuting is what defines them, then perhaps the very word Nazi, is only a modern day aphorism of Monster. To Nazi a person being to scare them into believing they are a lie. Are they all really only me, a figment of my mind? What did I do to deserve this story being writ. I’ve been Nazified.

I wonder if there will in future be additional boxes added to the census form. Will I ever be able to write about things as simple as ticking boxes in a form without diverging into a Nazi whirlwind of Ifwrit again? Exiting China and entering Arabian places, “Ifwrit are there Nazis are possible to hold to account as you?” is not a plausible census question. Yet “are you identifiable as a black skin person and have you experienced negative discrimination because of” is. “Have you experienced difficulty that other people have not experienced in accessing education, health and housing, and is it explainable by any disability or are you regarding yourself as an Australian who has been mistreated in respect of”. These are valid census questions if not validly posed, and it is a view to share that the burden of being exposed as experiencing negative discrimination can be lifted away from the fact of an Aboriginal identity. Why else are Nazis accessing such if such has not already begun to take place. Alternatively I really would have thought that with the numbers of black skin persons with an Aboriginal identity gravitating to fascist type ideologies these days, that there ought to be evidence of such sometime in some fascist method or other of altering public opinion of an Aboriginal identity. Because, and I will establish this as a fact to fear, there are a few black skin persons of Aboriginal cultural origins whom adopted the Nazi means as their own, and Nazi means was never dependant upon money, only lack of fear in killing forcing fear upon others. Fear that there is racism among persons of black skin so as to empower yourself to prevent racism against black skin persons from hurting them to despair that they loose the fear of killing. Perhaps a change will occur with those who openly identify as fascists no longer hating black skin. It really is not as cold here in Australia as it is in Germany, or North Asia. Black Aboriginal converts to Nazism are by no means the only, only the most obvious, and Nazism ever initially recruits among those who despair of living. So wake up Australia, stop forcing Aboriginal youth to affiliate with fascism while seeking the means of obtaining reparations for the cultural regard they have been robbed of. And wake up despairing Aboriginal youth, fascism is only for those whose self is so monstrous they can no longer sustain their self resembling Human from within black skin. Wake me up too, I sure got slugged one, imagining slugs can’t exist in black skin. They can, but they look like slugs in. Jack reckons you have to be really good to be able to incarnate black, that’s why he hates blacks of course. The advantage mine being red hair, for any among of hate I can bear in compliment. Lead me astry and I will lead you to hate me all the while looking better for. Aborigines even exist with red hair and black skin.

What weird trips that Jack is on. Thanking especially those who I saw in his eyes saving me, he touched not my vagina after revealing in himself Himmler; while in trips also enforcing that future I was in, then that moment in his kitchen. While I recorded it there in front of his nose, for posterity. A race he swam. And I. Jack the old drug ex-drug addict dude whose dad went to Eton, the grey dread for us of Aboriginal descent, because he had also an Aboriginal identity to the Nazi. Obvious to me not biological of Aboriginality, yet to who is he what, and why somehow linked into the tent embassy? These are serious questions I am posing to you. Why have Aborigines believed him of actual Dreamtime? Not that he would use such an identity in front of a black skin person, but a seriously black face of the matter he Dreams on, and Dreamed on from well before he met me. Apparently the tent embassy have a Dreamtime ambassadorial function in which black skin Aboriginal identities are handed out to almost anyone, that is only so long as almost anyone is not prophesized to cause a collapse of their tent through copyright law. But Grey is the Dread so large that Jack seemed capable of assuming persona of Bhyame himself. Oh, what is happening to insisting that knowledge of culture must be adhered to. If you know it then show it, or you are dead dudes. The “Can we not maintain enough culture to let in every Australian?” paradigm has the obvious answer, only if every person with whom culture is shared adheres to it instead of attempting to abuse our very Aboriginality by knowledge of. However sadly and idea came to be that I should have let him access my vagina one more time, is a strictly Aboriginal and distasteful speculation. I like being alive too much to have tried for a win like that. Yet some weeks later I received Dream of Jack’s ill Spirit in 1945, (hang on isn’t that impossible!- it should be, is just the problem with Jack, the Behemoth is), speculating as to when to suicide and which life to thieve from. There was an established preference for not getting to know my self, apparently such was the old dog Hitler’s preference. Bad luck Jack, I would be a red head to that, when the events have already passed there is no other solution but to enforce.

Have I only got some dumb hang up about some drug addict who I met, and or is Jack a real story! What is my lie? What ever the lie is, Jack reckoned he was fifty, had been in cocaine type psychosis delusions about me since he was 21, variable; variable with his stated date of birth by one year short, and one year short also his drug use psychosis alignment stated to the onset of my childhood nightmares worsening. It was not all my Christmases coming at once with his, Jack’s; whose father went to a school among the top five in Britain that was not Eton. Eat on well those who went to Eton, because his father did not. It certainly was a hell of a ride over three consecutive nights and days of acquaintance. Culminating in a close call with one pair of scissors in his hand, two more, and three knives in sight.

That was at the tail end of my having fairly rapidly realized the past he was identifying when his eyes turned blue. Blue only after asking me to choose a piece of fish. Blue that he revealed him self as Himmler while I went into information overload, because he had just tripped back so far into Germany as to have made use within Hitler of the rape of Kabbalah, only so as to defeat my clearly and repeatedly stated purpose. Of as soon as possible reacquainting myself with the only man who can bring me into adult hood, an Aborigine; thus to rescue my children in a court of Law back into Aboriginal culture. No I did not want pleasure any from Jack and he could not take that. Jack could not take belief that he had already only hurt me, because his penis was simply too large for my vagina. I must insist that it was only at the last and at blade point that I fully realized what had been in his mind whilst he inside my most private being.

Truth be told there are slugs growing old who can begin to self identify, yet only aligned with Thorny Devils much heralded win of the China Tea Cup. We will have to alter the census form to include all endangered species thus. The slugs realignment of October 2005, is entirely made possible only by Jesus having weeded out the speed demons among. You see slugs always side with the winner, and the winners were awhile sizing up to be of Ancient China, those old Dinosaurs of Dragons who while maintaining their Dinosaur memory slipped into a dog story. Slugs being those among who take the option to fuck their dog by sister brother same bone-type law breaking fucking, while the Chinese black speed demons – who ever in fact the proponents of white skin – are Dragon Tricksters caught out imagining that they are beyond the Law because they slipped and fell into gender alterations only so as to kill the others who had earlier when they already killed them before – Dragon Trickster caught out promoting their own arse fucking technique only so as to steal from their Loyal Dogs a Devil’s story, that they have oft tried to trick even the Devil by seeming Red – Dragon Tricksters caught out forcing the real Red Demons, all Devils men, to forget to make extra payments to the Devil, for our form.

The Devil ever the inevitable debt collector, supported in by Jesus; and so it is that Jack became Jack, by tricking the Devil to let his wife be raped. Thus can it be identified who has been causing the abuse of Aboriginal youth at the Australian tent embassy, by those who take my story. A subsidiary character to this story being “he who Dreams Hitler” and really only a dog, though permanently severely deluded; told me that the Nazis were all using cocaine. I had heard about the chocolate the morphine and benzoates but when I queried Jack (more recently than this story’s formation, since he is now featuring as a permanent fan club of mine in the walk through the city home from Theosophical Society Library, and in police presence I have let him) as to the cocaine it seems they were inventing ecstasy for sale to troupes of all Nations, there after re-tested by Americans fallen in Vietnam. Now another loop in the story, is of the werewolves of Europe fallen to Slugs faithful to Himmler, Hitler himself even among, yet dog not slug. In fact what Jack seeks to hide most is not even his child rapists knife, but the fact that the entire second world war was fought to enable his ‘Himmler Dreaming Mind’, along with a few mates, to live in constant drug overdose, fucking each other into a death that they had ambitions to could cause them escape retribution forever. The full extent being that they rape most of all, those with the best astrological forecasting, and their Nazi, and slug, and dog following, all of they the Black Demons of Dragons who fell and got twisted; rape for only the best possible Feng Shui (say Foong shway) readings for their next incarnation. It happened to be that becoming a fascist dictator was the best aligned to there after arrive in Australian to rape The Aborigine. Yet the best of all luck, the luck of Jesus providence, they strolled right into the luck of catching them to pay for Revelations. Jesus providence to Satan that is. For only by Satan have I learnt that Jack set up his very favourite girlfriend of old now living at the tent embassy, where she turned seventeen. Jack set her up to cause that the tent embassy are shown up as though they are who did all. But then they have been claiming that they did haven’t they? Claiming they were doing while crying and whimpering about a spy in their midst they could not find. It was from the tent embassy that Jack bought access to my Dreaming. In their Dreams at the Tent Embassy, of Caroling, they bought and sold me, profiting from, while also imagining I was their only enemy. While I spoke out for Land Rights and worked to obtain a Sorry for Stolen Generations and my children were locked out of culture because I identified openly with my Aboriginality of Soul; I was sold, and will hate every person who failed me in my three long years of calling for help to prevent this occurring because God knows I did not, but heed the Devil’s calling; in Christian Faith, and Islamic habit, sticking my neck out in speaking up in solitude for all Aboriginal Australians. It is OK to be Aboriginal and white skin! I for one wish not to be black to the likes of Jack, and am worried about who at the tent embassy fell in. Taking it black was never a reference to proving black skin takes upon itself any sin, yet at the tent embassy they are falling to Nazi method. Safe only for us who can swallow the account at, ever Nazis method to avoid. Nazis who portray even this work as theirs. Readily perceive that myself bears, and I can tell you that I was infected with HIV by tent embassy and every blood test clear. Do Nazis undo themselves claiming me, or I myself claiming them?

Like I stated, I have subsequent to first drafting this work met that Grey Dreaded Jack again; he assured me his leather jacket is dark blue and white and not black and white, when I complimented him upon the appearance of and notified him of my use of the imagery in story. Jack’s straight jacket of an iron shirt. I note it has also the tell tale red paint signifying a Red Demon’s blood stolen; blue of course is for Slugs; while black and white correctly shading their speedings bumming it. We exchanged stories. I received his rendition, perception unknown, of me as the boy with his finger in the hole in the dyke holding back the flood, and gave him The Magic Pudding, infamous classic of Australian Children’s literature, in which there is a cook, a Koala, Barnacle Bill, and Old Sam the penguin, a set of Professional Pudding thieves, and of course The Pudding, called Albert. Jack and I are in dispute as to who among us is the Pudding, and who the Cook, or rather Koala. How much can a Koala bear, when Koalas are marsupials and not bear, while I prefer a Polar? Our dispute is ironic, and jovial then we branch into Nietzsche. Nazis are very imaginary when it comes to Nietsche, they imagine he could scare. Am I lucky, Jack offers me a drink. I decline the offer of a beer, as I have declined Rosie’s free hot chocolate for street people we have met beside. I ask him to take me for a Hot Chocolate in a proper café. Jack is not happy about that, and also is reluctant to refuse me. So I invited him up to the Hilton Hotel café. The price really is not at all very much more. There he continues on in suddenly more gross and bawdy display of anything he imagines that could prove “God is dead” so wrote Nietzsche; that always and only ever meant: “God”, “is”, “dead”. I like something about those who know they can disprove life because I can disprove them. They prove God Loves me, in my every association with. God Loves me because I Love God, thus exist amid Everything in Existance, even a few dodgy old Nazi Undead. All the while I am sitting in the Hilton knowing “he who Dreams Himmler” is denied existence in Heaven, simply because the Devil really has denied him access to Hell. Such that my joviality in his company truly is only the act of sticking my finger in a hole in a wall, but the wall is not holding back water this time. God said never again a Great Flood. This time the wall holds back only Socialist Revolution. So why then is my finger in it? Basically I am only one, and until I have an adult Man’s help, if I pull my finger out Jack could win. Somehow my parents and Aboriginal community have fallen blindly into colluding with him, Jack, Of the Lanterns of Hell. Fallen so far that a young Man who once wanted to marry me among those at the tent embassy is now imagining that red hair and freckles are the signs of a paedophile. Hell Ray, that is a Slug, who thrives that way! I will not let my children be imprisoned in any Slug nightmare, so the Pudding is mine! Oh, yeah, of course, that is, conditional on sharing with Satan.
That young Man who got all stuck up and the tent embassy, in the derision of racial superiority, Will yet become my Favourite Friend, because if He lives then Aboriginal Man wins, but if not farewell there then friends, I will have to hold every Man woman and child into Hell to stop Grey Dread, an Apocalypse Never. I Dreamed over a year ago, that Ray was winding up into delusions about his very small penis, the right fitting sort for a cunt that catches the Beast. He becomes in The Dreamtime, deluded that His penis is a giant clitoris and his anus a cloaca. A cloaca is the orifice that chickens and turtles have out of which descend eggs and shit. I made Cloaca delusions obviously oblivion, so as he can take that, which I wish never upon Lucifer, or any of His Tribe. While Jack imagines that Nazis, among the Theosophical Society, in local community centres, and at free food hand outs on the street, have turned my mind with Neitzsche. Why? When God is on my side, because I on His? Is it because I will only be faulted in Islam – their fawn cow? Is it only that, it, like me, is already writ. That is because “God is dead” was written pen and ink to paper also. Thus if God is dead the inclination to; in Fascism Fuck Far Faye’s Face, is the selflessness of no Father-Land to abide in. Screaming Lunatics and Queers! If fascism has a grip on pink triangle safe places will they be trotskyists next, then travelers, then Jews? They aspire too; to turn my life around again? A Fully Fledged Fascist, AMEN. Yet naught accounted the disanity label, and thus around again to Abel.
I guess that if you happen your self to be among the undead (can you buy and read a book undead? I really can not conceive of what the undead experience is like beyond having dangled my head and shoulders frighteningly far over the edge of a tall waterfall cliff) this Halloween’s All, past and present, to fly through in celebration of this, then to you, God is, dead, or rather death. What ever way you see, know that the Nazis are copying me, and not the other way around. Except that their Devilish ways are pretence, that not mine. The Nazis used Werewolf mythos to strangle the Freemasons who survived World War Two; Strangle out of Masonic Traditons into arse waste of Hell now seventy fold. How long, and did the Gestapo prevent you too from Hell, and How many is extra? If God is dead and is it all?
As basic is life as this: that the Undead imagine their existence disproves that of God, then proceed to demand and procure of Children’s Blood, to sustain Undeath. Forgetting of course, that they are depending for semblance of life upon Children who imagine they are really alive instead of Undead, and those Children are also in full faith of God. Theirs the theft of Children’s Stories to assume the right to innocence while monstering any child into any faery or witches or goblins or slugs or, or, or, own Deathly fixations with that which not is. That children have learnt of, and demand full penalties paid for, paid for tens and thousands of Halloween Graves. Paid for because a child already, and many, have gone to Hell uncounted, learning there only how to prevent undead. Fly undead, fly and show us on whom you depend, on the night of All Hallow’s Eve, Pay for the Ramadan Party, that we may prove them not.
Here is an odd thing about “grey dread the Himmler was a Hilter wanna be”, Jack Sparkie, he had an egg, a stone egg, he had found on the street, in association with Dreams of me. I happen to have written a story, a spelling story, about a stone egg. Secreted in Stone. It is part of the poetry, the prose among, later in this publication. I gave him a copy. In fact truth be told we met four times all in all, yet then also a Fifth, last Friday, that is five times before I first wrote this, though he recalls a sixth, I never noted his presence. Fifth time here listed a copy of a document given to him that was written for the Theosophical Society. A document categorically defining Aboriginality. Stale mate. Our chess played to also. Better that he got off me that which was best recorded than any other. Explaining his tripping? I knew he had already done it. So I have been wedging my writing into that hole in the wall. The first time he approached me on the street, I was wheeling the food-not-bombs left overs back to a community house in a shopping trolley. I was most affronted. Who is this bloke and why is he speaking to me, especially while I have stuff I am not in command of in this shopping trolley, and why was he able to be overly familiar with me?!! I was terse. In my very sweet way. I can only wonder upon what he made of what else has been constructed from my writing. “That which”, oh that which would be which which spelt which way, but then I openly tempted that. Am I becoming a fascist? Or a witch? Or was I faery? There has been failure upon every count of his means to actualise causing insanity in my real self, no doubt? Mine none.
The second time we met, first Wednesday in September, grey dread Jack and I, I was walking along Adelaide street in the City and intending to go into a particular bookshop, but I could not recall if the book shop was on Adelaide Street or Ann street. Adelaide Street, he cut across my intention and pointed the way. Well I never, this time his approach was moderated, with Norfolk accent. Lovely- is-he-enough, to talk? Why do Australian women fall for accents, or is that just me. What was in the first instance the uncomfortable shock of a stranger being overly familiar, now became a stranger stating we had met before and with a familiarity orienting itself to years I spent in England. Why? Who was this Jack presenting himself to me as though a right to claim friendship.
The fellow even looked like an English friend. As scruffy as they come, like the lercher belonging to Greengrass the Poacher in that television show Heartbeat. A lercher is a kind of dog that is a cross between a greyhound and a wolf hound, and a very well tempered breed indeed. Yet as a cross breed has not the entitlements of a full breed anything, thus tending to be owned by the lower classes. I like lerchers. I told him he reminded me of a hunt sab, the modern approximation of an English poacher. Hunt Sabs are the dudes who get out there in their army fatigues using full guerilla warfare tactics and prepared for violence and arrest if need be, all for the sake of the fox. Sabotaging fox hunts is, I hear, twice the sport. But he preferred to be identified as a plain old fashioned poacher. I think he is chicken of war, like any even half sensible person. But he is who knows he depends upon for bringing semblance to living while dead. So then, who the hell was, or is, poaching? who the hell? Maybe he was more like a cross between a bulldog and an Irish wolf hound upon first acquaintance. Poaching what? Actual Marxism or a pink triangle? I learnt as a matter of course that the pink triangle has become among identifying Nazi symbols. Infiltration among Satan’s faithful in an attempt to trick ‘em. No fear. I won. In losing to who though in losing to who? There is no win that was not a loss to some, but who will I ever tell who my loss is to?
We walked and talked, to my bus stop then beyond. Why were we walking together, oh yeah live in housing in the same direction from the city. Next street in fact, as it turned out. I missed the location, but of his invitation, home? for a wheat grass juice. Up front, just like that, he intercepted me in public, knew where I was going better then I, and invited me back to his for a wheat grass juice. Well, what kind of a girl did he take me for. I took him flatly for a snake and said no, flatly, I am far too snakey my self, naturally. Up front also, told, no you are a snake. I informed him of my being an Aborigine, up front just like that also, and that of our actual initiation to, as up front as his approach to my self. I am the Rainbow Serpent in need, to beware of. Cats and dogs and all that was all he commented. I have had Dreams already of actually becoming wheat grass dude, you can’t scare me with cats and dogs. You know “cats and dogs”, it is a way of saying judge not lest you be judged and let nature take its course. Cats and Dogs! That he cries ‘Judge not’ is pitifully sinful of he, when he the adherent to the Indiana Jones mythology of Nazi occultists doings done by he. No wonder the Devil refused him Hell. Yet there on the ground that day with an offer of wheat grass juice made, he tricked me. Tricked me that he was taking Animist Religion seriously. Jack of no reality, who could not even take Ka’ba seriously.
In serious reflection, I wonder, are holocaust survivors carrying memory of only cats and dogs, or of cows too. Because I had earlier, well before meeting Jack with the grey dread locked hair, had had the hide to wonder among Theosophists: had their knowledge of Bio-Dynamic Farming lead to any decision to cause Aboriginality through cow, because they certainly need a Human Soul existing awhile as Cow to make that 500 fertilizer stuff. I wondered, on the way to a Bio-Dynamic farm, with enough dog people of Aboriginal descent now among the Australian Theosophical Society, that they must have known the entire context. Was there a fact that could excuse any level of Theosophist collaboration with Hilter, they reckoned only Rudolf Steiner was so, yet what a freakish series of holey boats came to be. Were cows well tended for German soil, that a single organization exists in main stream society in which members can access the entirety of sacred teaching, while every other individual who learns of is decried as insane? Was there any good cause to have let the Theosophists pass through world war two unscathed, or was it only somewhere to cross over into after. Hitler’s persona revealed through Himmler, grey dread and the ill defined self. The Theosophists and the Masons. What is behind and why is it that Hitler, the less astute, also the lesser. Who turns out to still be male in fact. Why was it that Jack was reticent to accompany to a Theosophical Society public meeting about Nietzsche? Who in our Human Societies, of many who closetedly believe in a future incarnation of their present self, along side Everlasting life, (even rocks have bacteria living in), who were the actual colluders, who resisted, and who dunnit; when will the facts of the presence of all of among us in modern Australian Social reality be ironed out flat?
I was determined. No snakey business with me grey dread laddie Jack, but all my self knew yet was “cats and dogs”. Advantage simple, as stated at the start. Judge not lest you be Judged, it mattered not that he was not in belief of since by force of tricking me his behaviour was adherent. I woke up the next morning thinking that first thing that day I should make absolutely clear to him that I never get into sexual, or wheat grass liaisons with snake men. While mine is to never, however, I am understanding. I know it that for dog clan folk, the Devil’s strife is those who won’t take themselves. But for my self, I need only a real Husband to take my self to bed. Yes, yes, while I write to an audience potentially inclusive of children, that I decry any who ever fuck with their brother, I know you for whom it is the way. Thus my decision that day, I had not thought too bad of the conversation so decided to turn the invite on its head with an invite for mango lassi from the local Indian take away. Yum! If I could get the mango lassi to him before another thought crossed his mind about me in lust, then I would be safe. Even the wheatgrass offer could be totally subsumed in mango lassi, or so I imagined. I had to wait for the bank to open because I had lost my ATM card, so mango lassi purchase was later than anticipated, but onward I trod with my intent.
The ATM card saga wore on. You see after some two and a half years of celibacy since early 2003, concentrating my efforts mainly upon writing, I had found myself being serially stalked in the weeks before meeting that Grey Dread, Nazi Jack, now uniformly the grey dread of the ashes of Halloween, disguised as a poacher. In the first instance stalking was by an Aboriginal fellow. Wayne Mansfield. He and I got along quite well really, though he was difficult to shake. Even after I took him up to the Theosophical Society library where he used the toilet while I ran away, he was hard to shake. The Theosophist have a really decent library. Worth maintaining. But by who. I suspect that the whole story of my links to need to be told, because that which seemed inevitably coming into an Aboriginal inheritance, is solidly now sold. However I will abbreviate it. I am in the service of His Emminence Beelzebub, via having had a series of altercations with the Canberra Gurdjieff Society, a group of variable occultist formation, whom I caught out on a count of in-adherence to the teaching. Well thus I must also confess, those who adhere to my reading are never occultists, yet I among Theosophists: The Worser: I take it. Accessible to . . . At the end of the first day of the Aboriginal fellow following me we had made quite some agreement. He had expressed an intention being forced upon him by others, of behaviour towards me, and we agreed to pretend he had carried it out successfully. I set him up with a blanket and showed him a comfortable place to sleep the night under the community centre down the street. The next morning he brought the blanket back and that was that. Only except that there were other such instances. He followed me day after day, even in overlap with the next stalker; who overlapped a couple of days with grey dread. In fact me, He and the second stalker, Wayne being the first official stalker in that it was indicated to him amply to stop and he would not, all had a drink together at a hippy café on Boundary street. I must say I liked at least the attention. Was somebody about to begin to take me seriously at last? We three managed to manifest a Dream together, all while being followed by supposed Paparazzi. A Dream of falsity, of hope in Faith alone. We fooled everybody that Wayne had in fact fulfilled the intentions being forced upon him; and images manifested of him with his penis up my bum, even that he ejaculated in there. We each had our own valid complaints with the situation in which none of us wanted the others company and expressed. Yet each, I believe also, felt genuine relief at sharing a commonly held perception of reality among three. All of us being accustomed to maintain our beliefs alone. In fact, though I have criticized poor grey dreaded Jack of, in must be said that in his company I really liked my self. Jack took me quite seriously also. He was even like me, factually frighteningly he even seemed made of all the things about me that I like, he was coated with my self from well before we met. Overly familiar or what! I suspect Wayne and Lee had been also, and know so of Peter Pan. Let me be in mind yours, of my own simple decent self love, and not at all of the sexual variety. Yours Wayne Mansfield’s variety.
Really truly it is the fact of the matter I was serially stalked. I mention three stalkers, but they were only who made very overtly serious statements of intention towards me. My tactic was only to attempt to befriend at every possibility. Seriously. There was also a fellow who sells the Big Issue, “a hand out is not a hand up” and all that, the magazine by and for the unemployed to make a quid selling it. Peter Pan he said his name was, and I called him Dobby after the Harry Potter house elf. He had been following me for months, over a year in fact. But he was never unshakable. He proposed marriage and tried to kiss me, but always in company of others, who, like I , who refused to take him seriously. In did in fact befriend Peter. He found a silver brooch with my name in it on the street and gave it to me. I found a copy of a book he wanted called “A Man Called Peter” and did not give it to him. Instead I promised to get him a copy of Viz magazine on his 50th Birthday. I never did, but the future is. On Peter Pan’s 50th birthday he and I sat at a coffee club in Toowong and at meringues shaped like mushrooms, one each. Peter Pan told me fairly recently that he too knows the pretty hairy scary Nazi Jack, but Peter is a paper seller.
Peter’s occasional company on the street, and I was accustomed to the draw, so then after the Aboriginal stalker, of whom it really must be said that I befriended well, as well, was a white dude with an old car full of guitars eating at the Saint Vincent De Paul single men’s shelter canteen. He was a grouch. He had little Land Rights flags upside down on a crocheted beanie. He began to remind me of me, nobody wears a Land Rights flag eating at St Vinnies, especially not white skin dudes, wise up there fella. But he carried himself as though far wiser in these matters than me. In fact his grouchyness fit right in. St Vinnies in Brisbane’s West End has a prison style canteen selling a hot meal for $1 three times a day. Beware of how you are regarded in such places. What was his name again, oh yeah, Lee.
Me and Lee, discussed being supporters of Land Rights, after I established a claim upon his hat. Right there in the canteen just like that, a conversation of such matters, unheard of. He then invited me to go with him for a hair cut. Hmm, why, but he seems a decent kind of chap, reckons he is of Aboriginal descent, hmm, alright Lee, I will. He was a cat, and I know exactly how a snake best handles a cat. I had already given away the only story I know in which the cat defeats the snake to good ole Wayne Mansfield, also a cat. The story I know from Rudyard Kipling’s Just So Stories. It is a good yarn in fact, and Wayne deserving the best of. As a child I felt terribly sorry for the baby snake, and as ever in such a story very happy for the cat, in that case a mongoose. Wayne the Mongoose, even told tales of travel to India. India where he had his feet washed by Buddhist monks at a monastry, seemingly just for being an Aborigine. Yet of Ridicurezipa, be. Just So. So. Or so. So I know.
I intended not to give Lee any such honor as it was my only story of a cat defeating a snake. Bastard cats, I hate. You see this is a really good game, they play it in England well. Now I know that in Australian Kinship, if in communication with a son-in-law in categorical kinship divisions, you are meant to ignore and expediate your exit from the same place. Well at least NEVER show any curiosity at all as to what they have in mind. However I have learnt by necessity to tolerate cats, the son-in-laws, or mother-in-laws, of Snake. Just hate. I never liked cats. As simple as that. Oh and it sort of helps to know how to read them. There are rules under which a snake is perfectly adequately able to read any cats mannerisms. The failure of usually being the problem between snake and cat. Lee had problems with me. My advantage hate known, his dis.
Lee its easy, see, and I showed him how. He even invited me to his sisters wedding; and told me ALL SORTS (!?!!?) Mind you, he certainly had valid cause for complaint. But I am quite certain, while I am the best ear to hear his complaint, he may not be a direct benefactor of. Here is the story He told me, tempered with the fact that from the first I doubted his Aboriginality except of remote and stolen cultural attachment, then believed, and then seriously retracted, and figured him off with the faeries. He has a seriously difficult to accommodate yarn to go with that.
He is identifying as of Aboriginal descent. He intended expressly to take me to visit his family at a place from where there was not getting back. He intended such upon me with access to the information that I had a court appearance essential I attend. He was an arsehole. An arsehole with a serious difficulty in prostate function that he explained to me and even demonstrated. The difficulty he incurred apparently because of having been imprisoned like an Aborigine, then experimented upon with anti-psychotic medications, all against his will, but like an Aborigine will? he apparently imagined. He told me that he used to be a chef, and is a extremely well educated man. But he was somewhat nonsensical, but then my snake can bring that out in a cat man. He spoke openly about being affronted that I had failed to notice there was a doctor and a policeman eating at St Vinnies. No there was not Lee, not those paid to be. Undercover operatives? Oh I see. He complained markedly about what the amorphous “THEY” had done to him, all for the sake of finding out about Aboriginality. But what he told as of his Aboriginality by descent, turned out to be exposable as undercover British attempts to discover what it is that is the factual biological distinguishing mark of Aboriginality.
Is this story for real or what! I had difficulty believing him, yet experientially, I guess that taken upon the self is relative to the employer of course. They seriously fucked his prostate. I suspect that they attempted to model his sexual function upon the wrong Aboriginal Men, those who have been raped in prison, and carry on with outside again. We never put any part of his anatomy into any part of mine, but I got the flavour of the abuse he had taken: for the sake of a good job apparently. He had spun me two distinctly different yarns about his family, and I guess in the end trusted me that if in fact it all, his employers theories, amounted to naught, then us Aborigine being a decent bunch of folk would tell the truth in the end. We will Lee, if you chance to have found means to read this, have no fear, the fact you know is that if you are not their evidence then you are ours. No fear of me having fallen pregnant with your baby either, is there mate. No fear of me imagining that I could possibly be personally in your debt at all for wanking on me, is there Lee. I really do not like being stalked. Better get the measure of my pleasure grouchy Lee. In fact even if I had fallen pregnant, the knowledge I gave on pieces of paper you ignored, is as you know worth every part of your Fathering skill. Really I did like him well enough that Lee, for a cat. Self Love, my pill. Better to let a Man handle Lee, especially if I turn out to be making his baby. I only dipped my finger into the place where he ejaculated, then back into my vagina. Well after the event. Such as that there is no turning back upon either of us having pretended to want the other, while I had not made yet the full account for conception being dawned until he was gone. Will he what me that?
At one point, in fact in the café with Lee and Wayne together, after having complained to two unknown black cat dudes about being followed by Wayne, Lee told me what my biochemistry, in his opinion, needed, and also told me about what he observed in the local people traffic. Did Lee know all along about the conception plan? He knew how to pick the paparazzi in a crowd. Oi you paparazzi dude, its OK, you were right about the tent embassy all along, one decent fellow there. The specific paparazzi Lee had identified I had spoken to before: but I’d never been shown before Lee, that he were paparazzi. Was he, or did I catch insanity from a finger dipped into sperm? Insane I was to have let Jack ever even walk home with me, or was I just lonely, having had nobody but stalkers to talk to for too long. In fact me and Lee got along remarkably well in our determination to hate each other. That is the way cat. Even communicated about Religious matters of comparison between Ancient of Day and Lesser of Year, between He and Wayne. Am I good or what, or have too many cat men have spoiled my broth. There is a pattern between in which communication is possible between mother-in-law and son-in-law, but it seriously leads to bad health and insanity, comparatively. Neitzsche had it not. Neitzsche had syphillus, the full blown disease caused if snake and cat co-habit, while my blood test is clean, even after HIV contact.
Now I really should be adding to the totality of this picture the truth of my actual prior knowledge of Nazidom and Fascism. My ex-partner the Irish turncoat, once, or was that twice, perhaps even a multitude of times, described to me that the Irish sided with Hitler during World War Two, because at least Hitler was against the English (?)… I stewed in my own juice over that for long enough that I now have some clarity of perspective upon. Basic was not to trust a word the bastard said, especially if he had quoted. But why had they sided with Hitler? I was trained to think of the Irish as the underdog in any equation. May be it is as simple as that. Dog under. Perhaps it was a spiteful hatred of the English in their delaying opposing Hitler, but how could that explain why Lord Mount Batten was murdered? Not at all I guess. Holy Mythos, will you protect, could it be that a far north Asian environment had provided the conditions in which many years earlier some dude decided that to escape being taken by the Devil in tricking that he could be taken for the devil; he could become German and through the Irish, become English, then Australian, because, Oh My God, by the Devil, the Australians were long prophesised to have won. Baphomet? Are you winn, or jinn? And really, don’t you know, everybody knows the Devil is to be resisted, so goes Jack’s game. With Jack the Grey Dread Nazi inclined Himmler character in my life, I learnt, Nazis all really imagined to get away with ever only hating the Devil and be done with it once, and Forever. Dodging Shinto Shrine entombment Jack’s favourite game for as long as he had had a claim on anybodies. Whatever else I knew about Mr Declan Gerard Grimes, I know he were not a Nazi, he being the archetypal fas-cist of course. Quoted as having pronounced it so by a policeman in court. What is the lesson? There comes a time . . . when we begin to play in reverse? Reversi, the Ancient Chinese game of Goh. Jack refused to play me so.
When younger I spent years on end avoiding reading the latest teenage girl fiction about the atrocities of the holocaust, now asking for the best references to. Eventually as a youth, the diary of Anne Frank was forced down my throat. I could have ended up without any friend at all if I had not read it, all the girls were reading it like a fashion accessory, something every Australian teenager needed to know; and I read it in silent conditioned sorrow. Then another, and more. But I never discussed nor dwelt upon any of at all. Then there was that BBC history TV show about the rise and fall of Hitler. I did not want to know. In fact there have been so many repeats of it that I feel like I have been dodging that particular TV show for years on end. Maybe I will watch it now someday. I have developed a sudden curiosity in Nazidom.
An odd thing happened to me in winter 2003. I was living in Kyogle NSW, and on that particular day was in Lismore at 8am awaiting the opening of an op shop, for the scheduled sale of items on display in the window. Being a hippy town, items such as Punjabi outfits in purple and green sell early, what are they called again, a word on the tip of my tongue yet buried to deep in my brain, those graceful outfits Indian women wear who are not wearing a Sari. There was another woman waiting also at 8am for items on display in the window her daughter had asked her to get. We talked. Eventually we had a coffee at the nearby café.
We talked about second hand clothing, and I described to her in vivid detail the Romanian, Transylvanian hand embroidered sheep skin waistcoat I had bought in the street in Budapest. It had turned out to be too stunning in fact to wear, a museum piece. In purple and green while most such garments were in reds and blues. I had researched the history of the craft of sheep skin embroidery, I was so enamored with the article. But after wearing it one day with fully matching surrounding clothing, and noticing the impact it made, it quite frightened me, too attractive by half of the wrong kind of attention, and is now suitably disposed of. I told that story because the woman I was drinking coffee with, had an artifact bearing heavily upon her mind. I figured my own story may reassure her that there was nothing at all wrong, in disposing of something that was too invaluable to put into decent use. The year the Berlin wall collapsed at petticoat lane markets she had bought a Gestapo artifact. She had also done her research as thoroughly as I had. I know how to embroider sheepskin now. And have tried, on the toe of my son’s slippers. Successfully even. She told me that she was one hundred percent certain that it was one of the only seven like it ever made, and had belonged to one of the top seven members of the Nazi party. She even thought it could have been Hitler’s, but she was not certain there. However she did know that it had a single variation to the pattern of the other six. Was it Himmler’s? She was frightened, and especially of giving away its secrets. We spend the day in Lismore second hand clothing and book shops, browsing and shopping. I got some excellent books from the Sikh tradition, a leather jacket, and shiny black trousers, but I threw away the tight black leather mini skirt outfit as soon as bought. Paid good money for it, only to throw it out. “We are to Know our Selves as Soul”, was the title of the book that attracted my attention. My companion was showing me books in another shop with pictures of a mastectomy and other such gore, in warning. I was cool enough, had that one accounted already thank you very much. Oh and of course not forgetting the long rainbow socks, I had always wanted some. I put quite a lot on lay-by that day. Strangely but, I have not kept any of. It was all handed on, or some other how disposed of, gone by the beginning of 2004. Excepting only the literature from the “we are to know ourselves as Soul foundation”. Well done that.
Back to a set of facts that precipitated this whole here set, as often is my want to express. From 1991 until 2002, I was, with a prolapse, and, sometime patient and student of a particular lay homeopath. A bloke who had put me onto some interesting reading material, and was a member of the Canberra Gurdijieff Society, told me that he had inherited a specific and well known of Aboriginal Dreaming object, or artifact as he termed it. An object of which, I have subsequently found out, those attuned to happen to include those white Aboriginal dog clans who now sell blacks up the river from within many Institutions of white Society. Overly influenced by Nazis no doubt. The object is an opalised crocodile jaw bone, and a yellowish looking thing, is so the story goes, I recall it only in Dreaming, and only at the being openly abused by end of. The reading material he put me onto turned out in fact to be of some very specific interest, and a key if you like, to that which I was put onto through the second hand shopping day in Kyogle. The artifact in question is held aloft falsely as the white skin Aborigine Dreaming tool, and is in reality a weapon of Nazi nightmares. It was a weapon of nightmares even before white fellas arrived, and yet now such fierceness I can not tell. It is the weapon by which children were forced to Hell. However, the exact means I learnt from the homeopath in question, was also the means of disproving his own every and any right to anything Aboriginal. Being as how it was an eleven year acquaintance, me taking the blokes medicines all the while, and with a prolapse, recovered from six months before the acquaintanceship ceased, I can assure you that I had relative experience, in my own passive participation way, with coping amid the likes of grey dreaded Jack. Oi you dude, I really know that the number six is not always met by a number three, but I can take it if you please, there in being my evidence. Six of one half a dozen of the other, said the tall taled homeopath, in a pathetic effort at hypnosis. Pale faced black power, I can, that old croc bone has been leading too many good blacks down the garden path into fascists ideation.
Then another oddly concurring incident. At the Dreaming festival, at the Woodford folk festival site here in Queensland, I met an out and out Satanist. The Satanist was old and English and pompous and frightening, but nice. Well nice in that I knew how to manage a conversation with that our onlookers may well have decided to be insanity, but we well knew our context, and they not. Interestingly the onlookers all gradually came around to our bizarrely communicated version of life. And eventually, those onlookers being site security and drug dealers and such like, even began to confess Aboriginal ancestry. I really know it is not normal to refer to any knowable person as a Satanist, but I sincerely can not recall his name, or his friends. Only that he wore red. That he had a goatee beard, and well, and he simply typified all categories of what anybody ever imagines a Satanist to be like. Really a very nasty chappy, but all the same, quite nice. Now here is the odd thing. I was informed by other persons present the following morning, that he had informed them, that he may leave me his estate. Now how can you take that from a Satanist? What is my own personal stance? Well, um, er, ah, he would not even give me a lift back to Brisbane in his car?
Not long after I found a gold charm bracelet in a hock shop, with a stupendous price. It had on it some stunning charms. Too stunning to mention. Disturbingly stunning, and a clear breach of the confidence of Satan typified in the particular combination. I though I had better get my hands on those before any body else tries, and I have. Though quite how the charm bracelet is connected now seems oddly irrelevant. Though perhaps only because I already wrote about it in an e-mail to the Fortean Times. After my great escape from Jack. An escape I had prepared my self for in listening to any story I could about every success I could fathom of such escapes. An acquaintance had told me of playing along with a serial killer raping her so as to find measure to escape, and I learnt well, even if at the time I imagined only in America. But Jack, was in the very next street. You see the day I first walked with Jack was the day I bought the charm bracklet, and after the great escape I had it worked upon by a silver smith. But when I got it back there was a single piece missing, then the missing piece turned up in the Driveway of a new house, a house at which I had never even walked over that part of the driveway before. The house that manifested in my life the very day I first saw the inside of Jack’s house. However on that day I was wearing it with other gold around my neck when with grey dread, Jack accosted me on the street, and I actually went to his house.
The very first time I looked for his house, two mango lassi in hand, I failed miserably to find it. Seemingly he had given me misleading direction. Of that I became absolutely convicted. And after all that effort, going out of my way on a hottening day to wait for the bank to open and get the drinks and for him some purple hair dye. That may need explaining. Well first of all is the simple fact of how put out I was. That fellow Lee, who insanely pointed out people as paparazzi, had left a lengthening trail on me of those he determined were paparazzi type. This is hellish, I never wanted to know how to spot a paper man, so? So it was on the Tuesday night, and I knew that my pay came in on the Wednesday, and the chances were it would be in the account well before dawn. So I waited in town near an all night coffee shop. I poked a stick at the street youth outside the Seven Eleven, and then a told to me to be a paparazzi type dude turned up. He had in fact followed me once before also, while Lee was at his sister’s wedding. Curiously the paparazzi spoke very much alike to Lee, like if they were computers you could have picked the programmes as made by the same employees of the same software firm, despite the hardware being markedly different. A highly specialized programme, yet one I recognized as full of componentry by me, left with another member of the Canberra Gurdjieff Society in payment for her son’s cruddy babysitting. Her son was already suicidal and she had asked me for assistance for. Then the same fellow had turned up at St Vincent De Paul, the babysitting paparazzi, and was again noticeably in my vicinity with an interest in my commentary, on the street in the middle of the night. Well, I guess so was I. On the street in the middle of the night. Waiting for money to apparate into an account. But not following me I wasn’t. The result. ‘Woman turns to insanity in the middle of the night and confesses to . . .’ whoever he was and whatever his business he were going to be able to juice me, of . . No, all I lost was my ATM card, whilst checking to see if the money was in the account yet. That was in fact the day before paying off and picking up the charm bracelet, and the day before being approached in Adelaide street by grey dreaded Jack. It was OK, I had a phone card and I rang the bank and cancelled the ATM card. Mr supposed paparazzi, seemed to be pissed with me; but then it was the middle of the night and who felt what of any body is any body’s call. While I was already long in the habit of blaming the dis-apparition of stuff, and particularly money, upon the tent embassy. Ray being the only person with any semblance of anything to rightfully hold against me. Raymond the Moslem that is, of course. Why I was on the street in the middle of the night, Mr Supposed Paparazzi asked; was just that I really really did not want to sleep before picking up that bracelet, who knows what could be mangled of it by abuse of my Dreaming, also, of course. So a night of 24hr coffee joints was on my mind. But the money to pay for the coffee! I never even found out at what time exact it arrives in the account. Definitely not by 2am, the time identified by the two black cats on the street. Also Lee was smelly and in my bed, yet in fact of my Dreamtime had been quite a help, of sorts. Now while since realizing Jack of grey dreaded locks is convicted of having been Himmler, I had chance to converse with while in company also of that self same paparazzi, and Jack informed me subsequently, he too is being followed by. Hooray for the news men?
As for the purple hair dye, how was it that is relevant, ah yes, of that the grey dreaded Jack, who I had not yet then conception of as being delusional, or semi-; that he was Himmler, status delusional of now today of course. Jack’s main delusion however is that the physical sensibility of one of the bodies he is accustomed to living in, being the body who followed and raped me, is only it. That is, by “one” of the bodies, I am meaning that he is so often “tripping” as to be experiencing many lives condensed into the specific bloke whom I happened to meet. Unfortunately most of all for himself, he imagines that the particular life he leads that is with physical sensitivity, that he knows it is the body his in the world of sanity, is a body that he has no responsibility for being only, as he calls it, “it”. Therein the Behemoth’s trick. It imagines its actual behaviour is the least effective and important component of living. This is the mind trap of insanity to avoid, for its avoidance of registering sin as death of the physical body, thus necessarily painful. Poor Jack, I had companionably thought he was conceivably at risk from within the Aboriginal community, to have bought him purple hair dye. But then, I did not know yet either that he seems to have been with good record as an active participant in Australian Dreaming, of Koori, and Murri, that is, of black skin Aboriginal. “But of course” his stealing from Satan, at the government funding end of things. So in my head on the day of the mango lassi, Jack was already only fitting into a category of adhering to un-definable tactics of the invaders of Australia at faking Aboriginal identities. Oh, and he a Rebel, and everybody knows the Rebels are the means of British collusion with Nazis, that being the most common street fact, and is not what makes the Nazi. For my money it just proves that the bad guys always fall into disloyal arrays of disorder and unlawfulness, even them that have once before been fascist dictators. Thus has the Aboriginal pattern of expecting the best among us to fall into leadership become apparent as the actual reality of ever was and ever will be. Australia is Aboriginal Land. At the ‘what all white fellas imagine Aborigines are like’ end too, is in order to relate. It was in fact my reason for writing to the Theosophical Society, oi you lot, give us a better regarded public self respect. I wonder who Jack could have been presenting himself as, through whom, and why? But then you really need to be well within Aboriginal culture for me to even be mentioning these things and you following, don’t you? Only who is ever going to stop white fellas parading as black, while black fellas imagine that they are indebted to by every white, and I am not myself one to lie about the colour of my skin. That is a thick way to be let in to particular circles of The Dreamtime. For goodness sake Jack is an out and out Nazi and hater and killer of every person in black skin, and the tent embassy imagined I could be a danger to them if they acquiesced acknowledgement of my genuine Aboriginal descent. But the purple hair dye! Oops?, now let me account correctly, I really needed to be certain I had at no turn shorted him out on my account to be able to manage him. The purple hair dye had Felix the cat’s cat tail in it, of a Felix who wears the t-shirt to prove it, and a co-food-not-bombs chef extraordinaire. But could I be wrong and the tent embassy right and Jack a white Aborigine assuming Nazi personality?
I will bear not even attempting to make in any way at all explicable the series of odd interactions I have had with dudes of East Asian descent in relation to this whole matter. The bad guys are those who thrive in the inexplicable being half noted. East Asians, however, are very cool in their quantifying of what is communicable. I was handed an inexplicable love note in an inexplicable location by an inexplicably present person, not long before meeting grey dread Jack, an infiltrator of Japanese stories also. What a darling seemingly, the inexplicable fellow, and distressingly of the expense to maintain him a. When Jack and I were sitting in Yullah together the most out and out stunningly presented Yakuza strolled past. Then these are facts bearing no readily accountable relevance. Take only the obviously accountable to your account keeping on behalf of your self. Cool they were cool, true Devil’s folk most. Beware offers by whom claim to be able to account for you without evidence they keep well their own account. That is. Again.
However, at this point in the narrative I had bumped into Jack once on Vulture street, walked homewards with him the once, and failed to account for his telling of his address, but knew the wheatgrass juice was a serious and to be regarded as especially privileged offer. Thus hair dye immediated. Then the next morning failed to find his house with my hand delivered mango message that a snake is a snake and not worth the risk, unlike a cat, or two; a message in hair dye and Lassi. Failing I had written a letter to my friend from London whom Jack’s grey dread’s appearance had reminded me of. A simple written hello, that turned into a bagging out of the tent embassy, just sort of accidentally. Not for any especial reason other than that I am still caught up in a court case caused in part by their interference in my life, but as I tell, that is another story. A friend is a friend and a friend in Sandy, a friend who takes an earful of bagging any third party without thinking the worse on either account. Best sorts are often so. However, then I realised that she is still married to, and quite good friends with really, some persons whom could be linked to the tent embassy through the chain of drug selling related crime, and I realized also that grey dread Jack on the street, was high enough in the same scene, as in very discreet, that there could be a problem for him if associated with the exposing of dirt on the tent embassy. You see I really knew that at the tent embassy were living some black skin fascists, but far be it from them to confess to. Not wanting an overly astute and clearly discreet bloke, coined grey dreaded Jack, simply being the stranger met on the street, to be caught out on my account, of course, I made a decent gesture of buying him purple hair dye. Very dark purple really, more like black in fact. Little did I know, for Jack then had not touched me yet.
My day wore on, writing to Sandy, and then an addendum. And then when it was all in the mail, and my self feeling befittingly, if unbecomingly smug, I had begun to wonder further upon the astrology readings I was referring to in the said letter. Is now really a very good time to be making another baby? Could sperm from a demonstration of prostate function placed on my fingers really be enough for? Hell, it was the wheat grass Jack again, found me in the flesh. A larger shock the third time than the first and second. How many Dreamtime escape routes had he block to be able to approach me in the flesh I wonder in the first place; because the look of ,and from my Dreams was, and is, being sold at and by the tent embassy, so I had no visual preparation. Excepting of course of the Devil’s wife I met at The Dreaming Festival, whose face apparated in Dreaming at the other end of the serial killers weapon one night, a gun pointed at me. Does he buy from the tent embassy my imagery of escaping from him in the Dreaming. I know I am a veritable Dreamtime Houdini, enabled because I know when and what for to go down for the count from. Who had sold me to him for goodness sake? He had not ever given me any pseudonym yet. Similar time of day and only a block away, in the City again. Hang on, I’ve got some hair dye for you, I bossed him about. How about that for a claim to fame. “I once bossed a fellow who believes he was Himmler in a past life, into walking about a hundred meters out of his way to get something that could suit him”. Should that be the real title of this story? My cheek frightens even me.
Then he bossed me into a pub. OK, a rare drink could be in order, bearing in mind, his head not mine, then full of Slug story. I rarely drink. I asked for a Guinness and black. Black currant cordial that is. Half and Guinness and black in fact. In fact even I had already consumed a half a Guinness and black at that very pub only an hour or so earlier, in wind down mode of a series of less tangibly related events. I had for example finally purchased the gold charm bracelet. I guess I was overly smug, I rarely and know better than to drink unless and excepting for any brain circuits want shorting. Needing to be taught a lesson, no, not I. Beware folk, there were patterns of Human behaviour colliding. It seems that the Nazis had a great very many variations up their sleeve for what can be taken as decent social conditioning in another person. Killing machines all. Hell he even had an innocent look in his eyes, like he was assuming the status of a child of mine. I had never been taken so severely by that type of look before, although had incurred such in my direction before. Oh a mother, what a piece of luck, where is her child, and how much? Same pub, but a different bar, and there was no black currant cordial. Raspberry! Cordial!, in a Guiness!?! Oh well, I drank it all. Shit that innocent expression! He was a cat! Safe seemingly the option of his intention. But I really really wanted my baby to be black. With somehow a picture now, that Jack, while lustful was not one to wish to go and get lust in bodily function through a sister cat. The danger was now, while lesser than first imagined, realer.
Not being one for sordid detail, let it suffice to say that I went back home the next morning from his flat, in the very next street. In fact the simple and very straight act is a sordid as I was at. As I tell, I really am not one for acting out any of the sordid details of life. Straight penis in vagina, first he on top, then I when I felt a bit sorry for his efforts: all the while it was in my mind that I really am not finding this pleasant. I supposed it was because we are not the right type for each others lover. I went home with absolute, and stated to his face, determination that such was NOT going to happen again. In fact I was with a serious fear of violence if in his company, because he seriously failed to cognise my capacity of sensibility. Simply put, it ain’t lust that makes for the tightest cunt. My sights are solidly set upon that man with a finger sized penis, for such made I be. The whole of the event was a situation of clarity of perspective of sharply markedly differed realities colliding.
Here I will diverge from my story. Diverge because I am in full belief that I owe every Man an explanation for why and how it came to be that a Chinese Slug Story got mixed in with the Australian Tent Embassy, alongside my own life story and that of a Nazi. This is yours to chose whether to believe in. However about the Tent Embassy you have not the choice, it is an apparent media recorded phenomenon, that potentially could exist in time further than the moments in which I write. Even if you imagine Nazis are no longer a phenomenal, and I will agree they are barely worth any consideration, yet phenomena still, even imagining they never lost because the war is waged on, these days in the realm of medicine. The Tent Embassy’s existence can not be discounted, even in being described an eyesore, the least of its problem and more likely only the cover job. The Tent Embassy is also a nominal aspect of the Australian Aboriginal Dreamtime. Here I use the words phenomenal and nomenal to define phenomena as that which is able to be perceived as part of reality by the unified consensus of sanity, and nominal as that which could be because it has been Dreamed but is not exactly able to be held as fully existent in the manner in which it is being perceived; even when believed. Thus take my reports of the tent embassy as nomenal, like Jack, like the fact of people being slugs, and like the fact of Aboriginal initiations. But know in my world the nominal world of the Dreamtime is, and call it Mythos.
In the Dreamtime Nazis still exist. We want them all to go to hell but they convince themselves that Hell is a delusion so as to escape culpability for any other delusions they acted upon. Their Hell Will thus be worst, for put them in there we will by Aboriginal method, that is un-corrupt-able. Many of them, including real Satanists among, were lead out into becoming Movie Stars by some foot soldier or other, only so as to exemplify for us the process of worsening your own hell by carrying out your desires to the hilt. However outside the Nominal Dreamtime and Hell of, or even Nominal confusion I will insert into your mind of the relationships between Heaven, Hell, and Earth; in the real world of our physical senses and daily sequences of events, there is an Aboriginal Tradition in dealing with those who pass the test as too bad to be let to continue. They are turned into a dingo, then in the body of a dingo cut up into many distinct parts, and the pieces separated into two distinct sections, one for a male and one for a female. The idea being that such people had only got the forces of yin and yang mixed up, so we need to address the situation by manually sorting it out for them: this organ had a negative function, and this one a positive function etcetera.
Mythos is an important part of how we all conceive of being so then again, I will provide an explanation the same, that the fact of a few tents slung around the Lawns of Australia’s original Federal Parliament House, full of folk nodding off into opium induced delusions in between entertaining the tourists whose donations for Land Rights are paying for the heroin and buying routes for Land sales offers, is a fact distressingly obvious within Aboriginal culture, as making a very large impact on all Australian Mythos. So for my money, I thought that the provision of a Chinese Mythology, that I am familiar with my self through popular Japanese culture, could be the true final solution. But how can I be real, if I am a Marxist, a vociferous supporter of Land Rights, and a Jew by descent and obligation. Hang on was not that I am Islamic, as earlier stated: with a scarf on my head to prove it? Well, a friend of a friend’s Rabbi told her, when she asked if she could wear a Man’s prayer shawl, that yes, she can, if only she remembers that after wearing it for three days she must wear it for the rest of her life. My head scarf is one of those Arabian Men’s type, usually associated with the PLO, too. But the PLO is not my business. Ye t thus with scarf on my head, though I am but a girl, it is falling to me to offer some kind of a theological explanation for the apparent reality of this story manifesting in your existence. I owe at least as much. Holy Mythos disturbed by my encounter with Jack, from which there is no turning back. It could begin with, I had a Dream, but I was sincerely awake and walking down Boundary Street West End, yet living in the Dreamtime and without drugs.
I think that the causes to which I refer date back to Adam and Eve and the apple, that Eve ate. Then she kissed Adam. Thanking Eve Herself for that information. That is right folks it was only a kiss, but he forgave Her it’s temptation! And, liking the taste ate one too! Oh no, Adam, woman could not do it alone without you maintaining sanity, to direct us as to what of our Nominal world is reality. Have you noticed my story takes a weave through two different versions of reality; terrifyingly. Why thus, is never to tell, how but is of the means by which the undead exist, such that only at Halloween can I tell this Myth, of real Mythos, is. The choice of which reality is real for your own being, is not even yours, but yet once was in the Soul your cause, because of course both are one. Now warn you I that your choice must lie in the fact of Holocaust no longer.
Get real undead, you can not be both a boy and a girl - at the same time - ! (I will chop you up into separate girl and boy pieces unless you stop imagining!) That is like being in a state of endlessly having sex with yourself, by failing to remember to forget the occasions of encounters with terror in the kiss. Oh no, but what Jack did! Jack tried to legalise lust, the silly shit. Only because I was not as greedy as he in bed. That is the bit in Indiana Jones where the Nazis open Arc of Covenant and their face and flesh all melts off down to the bones disintegrating into dust. What is that dust made of, it is worrying me. Was it the same intense white light into which a soldier can be forced, or that which beckons time to reconcile old debts. What hard work war has been for the Devil for a very long time; praising His Amazing Grace for life.
I haven’t yet been very Theologically regulated of modernity have I. Let me try. The Devil exists among us fallen only in our minds, and ever in fact an Arch Angel of pure Hope, Arch Angel Gabriel I Honor, only a young and foolhardy Devil, to have ventured into any Earthly discourse. He took upon himself to let us blame His own being, rather than blaming each other to the point of to kill. Yet Human beings took advantage of Him, and thus find we have been warned. There is a Sacred Law of matter higher in density than we can know. The name we must use for it is “Planetary Conquer”. Gabriel being who noticed the use of at Earth and fell to help that we not all begin to, and has even raised some of us to perceive the fact of the accounting for each and every use of is totally beyond our intelligence, and necessarily because imagining to be able to have found any concept of reality through is what caused the fall of The Evil One. Is this of the Mythos you know: Since Gabriel is an Arch Angel from Heaven, He also is a Star Man, and a Son of God; explaining those Dreams of Alien intervention; perhaps some of us Human beings go on trips to Heaven and some on trips to Hell, and some of us try one and then the other; tripping into Heaven being ever quite by accident and oft cognized as Alien abduction. The genetic manipulation of Alien intervention having been . . . red hair, and the capacity to combine red hair with black skin; fear for the trees; what? Most of us never even remember. But some can. My sanity is proven in this somehow, if only you can believe me about Jack, and that in life the baddies trip into deeper Hell if they try too hard for Heaven, while the goodies assume nothing, follow instructions, and accidently occasionally find themselves having fallen into Heaven wondering how the hell we ever managed to pay the fare, since having a general rule of vastly under accounting debts to ourselves.
Now I shall step again outside of perceptual phenomenal reality: you see I was in totality legally informed about the existence of Planetary Conquer, I being that apple that Eve ate. Well, that is, back then, particles that are now part of my being were an apple, and I suppose Eve need to have pooed me out. Eve in fact now pretending to be a male, finally cured me of the pains of being raped; that was a bit naughty Eve to let Planetary Conquer be used against you making you seem as though male in the phenomenal world. I disagree with such use of Planetary Conquer my self, so have adopted Satan’s term for such phenomena, and Eve is officially undead. Yet even in my own cure of having been raped, it can not be retracted that Jack pursued me for details as to the use of Planetary Conquer, details never mine to give. I told Jack, that his own acts were unaccountable. Mine accounted by Beelzebub, an account mine alone to bear, so there. Then Jack went ahead and used the small part of understanding in me by the fires of Hell and in using it became the third of four beasts in the water, the Behemoth. Beasts of all Humanities long time Terror. This is why I write, and on Halloween, look everybody a beast, I cognized it; thus now we are able to know it. Of Planetary Conquer cognise only it is used by Aliens in Space ships to prevent us knowing their Anything other than that within the Earthly Realms. Stars are for wonder not for knowing, and if we can not all hurry up and stop stealing knowledge like Jack did, we will end up living through the whole Earth colliding with The Sun. For that is one of the two realities possible from the facts within this story of actual factual reality. My total sincerity in this. I never lead Jack astray or by any other means of temptation, to imagine my onw existing pre-payment for having terrifyingly conceptualized planetary conquer, could ever be accessible to him, far from tempting him to use it, I am. My self while I have cognised it in portions, and even only of Spirit yet not evolved into being able conceptually place those portions in sets, except for few hours I am been granted, of a Higher Angels with; the presiding overriding conceptualization of the reality of such a capability, is of being totally unable to conceptually grasp process governing its function, a Law of matter according. My conception being all in parts irreconcilable by I, except in knowing that such is of my causation, Jinn I.
It has been the case at Earth long before now, that Men and Women, while ever Dreaming in differing density from each the other, have also diverged in our ability to know the Dreamtime. Aboriginal Culture must here be my resort. For long since has it been that Aboriginal women Dreamed in two distinct possible sets of reality of consequence, that we needed Men to guide our Spirits of Dreamtime existence of Body Kesdjan in Animal form sound. Which Dream is the realer? I being by Cause and Reason of Soul, a woman destined to accept any and every fault upon my own self, have been Forever existing true within a duplicite reality, and also a single Reconcilable reality. Let Aboriginality be example. We are Human and Animal, my culture establishes, and real is my being Human, and real is my being Animal. I am and I can, because Ever in my Cause and Reason also is to accept fault yet let none fault me. I can guarantee you. For while I have been faulted with, being apple stolen by Jack, rape of Kabbalah, and even of the paedophile, I can bear these sins not. My guarantee exists even to the extent of being forced to disprove these faults in a court of Law. Yet fear me in this: the fault I equitably accept and hold against my self, of apple and cow before ever Human, yet fact in that not fault; is the sin of slipping to miss a Man’s correctly accounted perfect call, that I, in believing another possibility could be equally truly accounted for, have become the cause of insanity, Jesus died for me. My sanity in this, and Man’s. Thanking God and Gabriel for Men who will not Forgive me tempting them. For is it not the case that when God instructed Adam to Forgive Eve, it was for apples already eaten, never for tempting Him to follow. Man be my route to God, an never an apple past, for Greed I wrought and sin I lust. Ohm. Young Raymond’s call God’s He follows by Gabriel.
The undead know theirs is to judge in sin, only that which is dead – Ohm. So judge only my self wrong undead, never children’s being, and never fault Jack for fear of becoming in his trick a thrice-deadened-Ohm. Seventy fold times seven times, Jack O’Lanterns guide no man home, Ohm I am to exist aslike undeadened four times ten.
I am in a situation that has arisen through fault I could excuse but will not. A situation in which my Father and mother abandoned me for I had encountered a sexual liason with an Aborigine Man, black, and in their abandoning was it caused that I was seen to be needing to be abandoned. God what have we done? I raped the Man and He became an adult, uneducated in my terror, while I the older and yet child. Thus he fell to my mother refuting me, and also has abandoned me. He the heroin user, my parents alcoholic, and both believing Jack. Here is a simple related irony. There are Freemasons everywhere aligned now, and not now, but then and not again, with the Nazis. Whose tricks that abused the Devil through me, also abuse even the undead; they wonder, is that young Man who she raped the Man who will save all the Masons, because His penis really is very small. That is the Mythos well established among them. Oi! Not as small as my vagina! He is not a bum pipe cleaner! Even if He did use heroin now and then and imagine to Husband by that he became confused by Jack as to who am I. Last seen he had Balrogs tentacles holding him to the tent embassy, of prostitution, surrounded by every kind, being prostituted himself by the tent embassy to the police who protect drug sales there; and all before he saw the inside of a black vagina. “Black” vagina meaning in my context, only that He, being a Jangala male, is in need of a nungarrayi wife, of any colour skin, but whose vagina can only take Him black at the exact point of orgasm. But meanwhile no Freemason yet noted that my Father also has a very small penis, smaller in fact, he claims? I would not know. However, of this I am certain: the small penis is necessarily of use for the vagina! Because if Freemasonry expects that their already overly stretched arseholes can be saved by poking a living enema into, when there are anal douching machines available at the shops, then they must be who did it, and be responsible for a holocaust and the end of the world. Some of ‘em even continue in flat Earth societies without taking their own Mythos. If it is flat the fly not off the edge. The end in which we find a Man to have done Enki, the Evil One, first to fall to a big trick of failed Planetary Conquer using in mis-cognising being able.
You see while I take it upon my self a deed done, I know my own account, that I can hold the fact of wrongful anal insertions in check. Now it is well known that Satanists have long engaged in such, and Satan could seem to condone, that which is an expense in vanity to He, yet by so not to our children. Satan’s coding up the bum, and when will the world come to an end? But with Nazi coding up the bum, it might as well be now, for the Nazis stick up the bum while none are looking, “whoever’s the fault is must be any body and everybody else’s but Jack’s”, and as far as Jack is concerned it might as well be Satan’s for egging him on. But here is the key. Satan never let anybody ever Forgiving Him having tempted. While Jack, will be begging Satan at the doors of Hell, because he was dumping his tempting upon those he tempts, that every gate of hell and undeath is barred him forever. So somebody must save the Freemasons, they all had it stuck up their bums to ignore and imagine not real Satan. That is the truth of Nazi power. The Nazis are who falsified taking Satan’s teaching and then stuck it up everybody’s backsides; such that folk are forgetting that we have to die. Then Hell Eternal, that is not just for a visit through, for every time ever eternally hurting; Jack’s bumming being imagining forgetting needing to die could ever have been the same as Everlasting life. If Satan is not real, and of Hope, then Hell lasts Forever, so beware the Behemoth’s lie, that caused who expose it be unbelieved so only Hell provide.

The crux of the story of course being here: that while Freemasons wrangle over whether is is a Nazi myth that a Man with a small penis will save them, by saving them only from the Devil in flushing Him out since He with small penis is quite like; and he is imagining saving the Devil’s work by sticking himself full of needles up the bums of Freemasons, who readily hold against him that he imagines an out in his black skin thus disproving himself; while Aborigines in general wrangle over whether we go along with faking that our initiation was the arse rape so as to pop the Devil back up the bottoms of Freemasons, or hang on, no it is to clean the Devil out for the white fellas money isn’t it, and isn’t that what proves being with Satan, oh ho ho, not you know, the fact is that is only the case when all of the money is Satan’s mine, since He is who paid for keeping it clean alongside Jesus.
Is closure now warranted. In respect of my aforementioned situation, that as my Father Loves my mother, He will eventually pay for the speeding fines I acquired in 2003 pursuing the “we all live” version of reality. Since I could not afford to pay them, and also move to Queensland, away from the nightmares of the abandoned version of reality. The version that we must all cognise as a “no longer to be enabled” reality, that feeds that concentration camps etc ever have been, had crept into my NSW reality. However Queensland has it the worser, yet not for me. Jack lives here. Here in Queensland where there are police who take advantage of the absurdity of there being two distinct versions of reality. A persons credibility here seems entirely unrelated to physical behaviour; such that only so long as you can avoid ‘hesitating with intent to loiter’, you are innocent of anything. While those recalcitrants like I, of death eternally (I far prefer the account of account untaken, to accounted as Forever, even forever aslike dying for a while until I can count it my self or a Husband for me, is better than the account of Forever is Never alive), and who happen to not have been able to produce photo ID without hesitation, are decried as unworthy of any legal credibility. Is the State of Queensland a side effect of Human error?

I live comfortably a pensioner; while at the tent embassy they imagine they have even Adam in hand in the excuse of a local drug dealer who blames my self and Raymond alternatively for every drug sold and used. Blaming me such that I receive of them self, the drug users, that which they seek to deny by. That which they like to avoid bringing into phenomenal reality out of their own caused nominal reality, is left with me, and quite likely mine to examine for reality they ignore. Frankly, I prefer the hard work reality, mine the comfort in. Such as I am, I can thus verify: the tent embassy and associates in drug use and shared supposedly only nominal expression, fairly frequently find that their reception of Dreams of Reality is disagreeable. So they call in to each other: “false start”, and imagine that thus may they live without walking through the facts of their consequence. I know they would never have got away with so tricking Traditionally Oriented Aborigines had not they in enough instances enacted some part of Dreamtime reality True, that I also know that they know they are ? To me they left the nuts and bolts of their own daily perceptions of real, no longer equating with Animist culture, but Nazi cult of denial. “What!” “The tent embassy turned Nazi!” “ But that will give the Nazis and excuse to shut it down!” Their pleasure in.

All that being stated, here is a fact of which I am certain, and a Disanity Label in it, the first one. Nazism and fascism or what ever to call it; is no longer necessarily identifiable as. Actual incarnations of Nazis have set up the tent embassy to enact the exact behaviour of Gestapo during World War two, without the War, bar in the Middle East. Though tent embassy only connect to via opium trade routes and a perversion of the Black Power movement assuming of Islam. Nazis idea was to set up the tent embassy so as to seem to have done it, the second world war, and every subsequent. While at the tent embassy our own Aboriginal versions of imagined that, in their terror unrecognized, they could utilize Nazi strategies upon Nazis successfully. And that is exactly what the Nazis wanted, that the tent embassy find ye t another source of victims for them. Part of the set up in fact was in having persuaded the tent embassy that there are indeed two sets of reality, if you get this. Yet they described not as I write. They portrayed reality as of an up Jacob’s Ladder version, and a down Jacob’s ladder version, of both realities in play upstairs and neither downstairs. Hence the terror of the “we all die” version. The Australian Tent Embassy has fallen to refuting that Nazis are Nazis, and claiming that they use Nazi disguises so as to catch the real Nazis, being others in Nazis disguises having identified the Nazis, who escape by The Tent Embassy portioning blame. They portion blame by leading Aboriginal Dreamtime existence of Nominality double handed, while convincing them selves that no Dreams are real except those enabling heroin use falling into the Nazi Holocaust reality now truly left as only phenomenal of past, yet tent embassy drug use while commanding the Dreamtime of many Australians risked Nominal terror becoming phenomenal future war. Tent embassy’s downstairs was Nazi constructed for black skin entrapment. Their upstairs the worser unidentified.

Reality in the version abandoned by Earth as unable sustain life, is the version I have a son who called me out of. It is the imaginary version and version that caused the Nazis to try to exterminate the Jew. Here is a Nazi secret, they did know they wanted to stop the prophesy they had found that Jews would disprove Capital. Like all undead Nazis depend upon the dollar in value increasing. A thread runs between China’s Han Dynasty’s founding and between the wars Germany. So when Jack who Dreams Himmler and I, supped hot chocolate at the Hilton Hotel, I knew when Jack tried to claim a win for Nazidom in having done himself the Hilton and if then an Eternal holocaust by, that I would only ever refute, but neither establish that I have yet done anything to my credit. That stuck Jack. Tricking him thus that he had won, I learnt his scheme of numbers to live through, and indeed it included the Hilton Hotel. Jack did not do, I can assure you. In his having made a trick in selfish use Law, in small part only conceptual, yet Law that embodies Planetary Conquer, he the Eternal looser to dying; for the accounted use of is by Jesus, my own loss ever to, Revelations and Qur’an Faithful my guide. A guide in which I knew it was never mine to choose which reality finally, but that I could work for Cause and Reason alone. Jesus did choose, in knowing any deed ever done is only done for God, and accident to accommodate the determining factor So if you ever selfishly desired to try to do for pleasures unearnt, then to maintain Humanity must you pay to turn the dead around for reality is God is. One reality. Elohim Allah.

Fear not, for the only self I am that fact could demonise is a self that adheres to Ka’ba. The Synagogue of Satan, only one translation of the name of His Emminence’s work. Yet Devil’s know my total account. I am safe. Satan caught me in a nose pick and defined for me irrefutably, to my own experiential evidence, every element of cause and effect of. I am faulted and in Jesus I bear it. My finger in the hole in the wall of Kapital. Tell the undead fallen into a Nazi nightmare, in which the Devils are imagined untrue, that it was Karl Marx, a Jew, who first noticed and spoke out about, such that we notice. Now noticing also we must bear witness to the ills of separation from Religion, our cultural guide to maintaining Faith in God, Allah, that we are accounted for. While every Aboriginal representative tried to rape my life for money because Jack could, such that I fear who will manifest as 666, and my best is preventing my own flesh and blood from. I wonder in that if you share a piece of meat with a stranger are you sharing that which can be exchanged in at death, of ensuring that they too are not so fallen. I will reveal that Jack’s major weakness is a weakness that Aborigines and Moslems alike also succumb to, of in recollection of death imagining to be already paid enough suffering. For Jack remembers existing a dinosaur, gender correct, a killer.

Now is the part that is just absurd, and I expect none to believe it, but will write it in for the sake of a good story. Jack’s trick really having turned him into the first beast of Revelations Chapter 13, was the entirety of every consequence both positive and negative, in both directions in time, of my having been separated from my Husband. He being who will count 666, and Jack’s trick also having caused 666. Now that second beast in the water, not a prominent feature of Revelations except in having set the scene, I believe whole heartedly to be situated at the tent embassy, but not an Aborigine, only feigning, and quite, in fact like Jack. Jack’s lass. But enki, the first, here is the good part: 666 did. Rather does do, after this, perhaps in time with publication.

This is what they forgot. That knowing Dreaming of Nominality can cause reality in the phenomenal world to alter, is simultaneously knowing Dreaming is caused by the reality of the phenomenal world. Thus our Dreamtime can only give semblance of defining reality, because God is the only who can. For, of course if Dreams are made from the real phenomenal world, then the real phenomenal world, as well as our Dreamtime, is what sustains God. I did not forget this, and in sustaining Faith in God I chose to enact any version less pleasant for my self, because I am inept at discriminating that version which is, thus chose simultaneously to accept Hell is my future death in any acts of wrong, yet fear most of all the pleasure, thus avoid. I act always and only dependent upon what Dream it was that awoke me from slumber; schooled in the discipline to know what of in to follow is never for pleasure. Until, this Wednesday, when, for the first time, I could not. The enacting of that Dream required money and I had not. Thus it is that upon Thursday 20th October 2005, I acted instead, and recalled in to my self debts owing, finding every is, knowing debts payable to Beelzebub for God.

Mine is ever to call upon my Husband to make the decision of which version. Husband I believe it was heroin not your calling, but I am a girl and the choice not mine. Father, can you choose? Husband, my Father is choosing all dead Forever, what will you? Both were fallen to women’s temptations not mine. My own belief is of need to let the scariest version run its course until enough folk are adhering to the other. My children need disciplining in. Most women Dream mostly receptively, of two versions of reality, and it has been like this a long time, but not ever. Why no body would listen that I needed a decision, while in sleep I scream all night I am not willing, is why I met Jack. So now can I see why Planetary Conquer through me. I let the Terror disprove itself in Hope denying being denied.

The consequence I accept is a disanity label as stated, and the first of. In this I am clear, and clearly faulted. The Disanity of a label of being falsely disabled by insanity. Undisabling is that never has it been, that insanity could ever excuse, any criminal behaviour. You are sane and law abiding, insane and law abiding, yet law abiding. While the criminal whether sane or insane are yet criminal. My own behaviour can be eclectic and eccentric, but never criminal. Even picking the nose is fraught. Fraught with considerations of which hand I had picked with, and that if only I can prevent my self from passing a hand from one side of the body to the other, is there any innocence left in a nose pick? Every mistake I ever make is mine.
As a matter of course now to defend my sanity is. Alongside the Franco did it lie, is a lie that the Nazis all crossed sides and altered their physical gender so as not to pay for their ills. We all know they committed suicide. I can prove they had other in mind, and were changing their minds about how to enforce a population of Jews and travelers to accept Aboriginality in total miscogniscence of what an Aborigine be. They imagined to their benefit instead of God’s as ever whe are. They asserted that anybody could become a trickster, and hoped for Jews to, while themselves using Ancient Chinese Slug Terror tactics of stealing Feng Shui, and Kabbalah, to pick the luckiest day to die on to steal another persons future. They hoped that in such to be able to trick the Jews out of a Marxist analysis of Capital. That was absurd, it is mathematically proven.

Theologists among you please excuse to the Nazis my flowing freely between cultural paradigms because I have in my life no better words for Chinese Slug monsters, Aboriginal Ant Dreaming, and Jack O’Lanterns colliding, and Mythos must be. Jack was a killer of Ancient times, who imagined in killing alongside enki, and even though Her self, then correctly gender aligned, did not immediately alter gender, she killed Eve, and has been pretending to be, for a long long long time. She, Jack, enforced enki’s paradigm of a male self upon Eve, and herself took Eve’s; and Innana’s. Then was a dinosaur for a longest time. So long in fact that, like vast many Dragons, imagines to have paid for any future. Yet not paid for its own past. It never yet cognized that it was in the first instance wrong in having killed. It crossed sides and became male, imagining to have already paid for. Jesus caught it really, not me. Also Satan, and Beelzebub, and countless Angels. It and its like, some Slugs of renewed lust, and others Black Demons who chance to imitate other will fund Revelations which is the route through life into accepting Ka’ba is Law.
Of Islam this. I have noticed of Chinese, and now also my self that there are times abundant when the self is able to accept that in every direction of movement is death. Such that you can only move in the best direction, being that in which there is least killing. Even only from self preservation. More death in any direction is more people hurting and desiring to hold you to account for. There is a single difference between my self and Jack, in that however. I see death and I want only to work. While Jack’s alone among four is to even in death be unable to provide for living in God to life. In relation to Qur’an I note this only because it is Islamic teaching that has brought me to. Further even than the Chinese is the Moslem. The only fault you may hold against, is the fault any person holds against their own self. The only reason that Moslems are hated is because the Qur’an is irrefutable. Those Nazis who killed for Kabbalah, wanted it to further abuse Jews with, but a kill for Ka’ba is a conversion. The likes of Nazis kill Moslems to try to disprove that which is proved in the act of. We will need this knowledge, for since we are to know our self as Soul, each and every self is to alter, yet also our Soul, unless such is only our self’s perception of what our Soul was ever to become.

These things I write now, because it is Halloween, and writing any about at all before resolution is the terror. However, I write, I am a girl, and neither innocent nor anything but awaiting a Husband. I have noted the beginning of full formation of the Beast that is 666; and have experienced that if I am with preparation to die in consequence of, and the exact moments from which were taken every aspect of an abuse of Planetary Conquer Key are measured, yet and also actually passed through, then we may enforce that such are put to God’s use; but God’s use for is ever in kowtowing to Pestilance, War, Famine, and Death. I know 666 is who performed the deed that enables us to perceive one person’s Dreams being another’s. Why our minds can fill with unknowable hate of delusions about each other’s will. Thus a living dead Soul awake I write it is time to return to the story.

Then later that day I thought best to give Jack what he is after from me hoping to prevent him pursuing such through sex. We are up to the part in the story of the morning after I first spent a night with Jack. I had also tasted a commercial wheatgrass juice and thought, perhaps like every other guy, he is only after money, and in fact, his own home grown wheat grass juice was better than in the shop. So armed with a wheat grass juice reminding dish, and with a story I had written alluding to a source of bio-dynamic seed for such, I tried to set him onto a detour of avoiding me. The seed being Bio-Dynamic brings Rudolf Steiner’s participation in Nazi Germany to mind. Collusion is a hard call to make, since so many innocent stand accused of. Hang on, I had not in my self yet then, on that particular day with wheatgrass container in hand, that particular association, between a source of wheatgrass seed, Nazis, and the only time ever I have let some bloke pick me up on the street. (In a park, at a party, in a tent, even at a picket line yes, but not just like that off the street without a corroborating acquaintance). Hang on Peter Pan told me he knew that bloke Jack I let pick me up, and what else had Peter told me, he said “we are all either jews or Egyptians, and everybody else in here,” here being the Boundary Hotel, “is a jew”, meaning I guess myself an Egyptian. That is, that on the street in Brisbane if you are known as a Jew then you know you have Nazi affiliations and no shame to hide such, whereas if you are an Egyptian then you probably have to but see fit to hide it. (It took some overly simplistic figuring.) Not even yet knowing Jack was a Nazi, I also took him something I had written for the Theosophical Society here in Brisbane. Had I known he was a Nazi I may not have, since I wished not to stir that particularly rested question of who was and was not favoured by Nazis and why.
Whatever the case of whys and where fores, I had dropped off to the flat of the a bloke called Jack, having met on the street; a statement of wheatgrass potential, in the form of a story, with wheat grass juice container. A story written to Theosophists about a day at a farm with them and the Taoists. . Quite a good yarn it is, though Theosophists could despute how Theosophically oriented it is in relating. Being an account of and in attempt to persuade of a specific and particular point of view in relation to Aboriginal Cosmology and culture of Dreamtime. Seriously now, what is of academic interest about my whole statement of fact, is this. Some among Theosophists and others still openly refute a very specific point of reality exploration I express, that is soundly based within Aboriginal culture, but Mr Jack-thinks-he-is-Himmler-and-wants-to-be-Hitler-as-well, in astute discreetness, took me far more seriously in that exact account, taking in such as game strategy for success. Jack certainly always had the edge over Hitler and other bad guys in the how to be a good bad guy stakes. In the start we had two distinct shared ideals fixed upon in our minds, and a chess board between us. The ideals are: follow your Dreams, and take upon yourself only that which you can enjoy. (why was he enjoying, I wondered, and could it be an awareness of already inevitable) We really were playing the same game, even with differing paradigms of real outcome in mind. Such was his commentary, and mine but or were we. I think he had forgotten I was in full faith in God, and the nature winning and loosing is regulated being therein. Allah ever the winner, thus I can exist. Curious yet that he was more able to follow my point of view than The Theosophical Society. And in that I count out the sex. Perhaps even counting in good will to the Theosophists for not letting their perceptions of real be challenged.

Of course Jack and I were both enjoying ourselves only because of being in entirely different perceptions of real life. Jack played to win for godlessness, yet imagining to be able to blame all dog, and I played for God. Jack managed to imagine I conceptualized not what he, yet he not me. Ohm in my self a recording of the events and Ohm can not be raped. My enjoyment entirely the effort of focusing my concentration upon resisting letting any self be me that was not totally awake. An enjoyment in fear equitable to Jack’s lust of preparing a kill. Would not you have been focusing attention singularly upon Allah? Thus only am I now safe. Only inAllah could Behemoth have been found and seen in the action that made it Behemoth.
So Jack had some of my writing, Jack who turned out to be not a snake after all, but a cat. Fancy that. Together I and Jack were typifying the problem in fact, between snake and cat, to the furthest extreme. Problem between any mother-in-law, and son-in-law. Is it all me, or all you? It is easy to perceive how I had thought him a snake. Too close a brother and sister the moonglue sticks self to self. Fortunately my own sons, two of whom are Jungarrayi because their Dad is Eaglehawk like I, that they have either his skin or mine instead of skin of son to I a nungarrayi; Fortunately my little Jungarrayis and I are well established in ability to each know the other’s self, that I quietly sat back and observed jack imagining my self him. Then later, having navigated him crossing himself in my company quite successfully in both our accounts, because I did not once such; yet observing him feigned to have had being, if you take my meaning, those of you familiar to the mechanism of lust. Bear me in this, a child I am and observance my gold. So then now, I had sussed out that he is a cat, for definite both at the pub, before he touched me, then again in re-examination on the way home from the pub. Better to be safe than sorry. When pubs are involved it becomes imperative to be certain of such matters, and when no pub is involved better always to be on the safe side of specific varieties of danger. A cat, well, I really am quite ill as a consequence, but had he not been a cat, me having taken a decided dislike to him on the way to the pub, there would have been no chance of me going anywhere with him from the Queen street mall except to the police. I was frightened enough by I knew not what. The being of him a cat, I expect; yet the smaller part. Cats being second in worst in line after a brother snake for a sister snake to in sex relate. So bad that if we were Warlpiri, we would both have incurred a death penalty, perhaps therein was my victory. He pursued life, trying to thieve of I, while I knew I could only be causing death of me, such that my life with victory over he in his win. Even now in recognizing that, the same condition applies. I can only relate to him at all in acknowledgment that for mother-in-law towards son-in-law the only correct posture is hate, so know it. Guilt by association. Well glad for one am I that by 1988 I knew this true. Fancy that, he stole himself hated. For those, many readers I Hope, unfamiliar with lust, I may be able explain one of its functional mechanism. The fact was that during the sexual encounter, Jack was experiencing existing looking through my own eyes with his third eye while I was in body physically speaking to himself in the future, and then he in body attempting control me also. Thus how safe am I? Jack insists upon looking forward to meeting at Windy Corner Northern Territory. Yet who was he looking through really? Wait now for the good part at the end of the very next paragraph.
On that there Thursday walking home into West End, I wished to use a toilet, and proceeding towards the Southbank Parklands public toilets, Jack steered me towards the Convention Centre, and strolled through the foyer displays of the Boat Show like he owned the place. An exhibition of behaviour truly mismatched with the poacher’s appearance. Jack flashed his silver ringed thumb, to mark his function as demanding deference by every Freemason, Mason, and Rosicrucian. They can if they so desire. Dared he then later to complain to me that he had had to grew dreadlocks to get anywhere near me, the twat. What had he been doing to my dreaming and for how long? Who in fact had caused me to be in a child custody case for identifying Aboriginality in genealogy and spirit and heart? A case begun shortly after visiting the tent embassy, but due for victory in the week after meeting grey dreaded jack, thus victory missed because my Dreams were sold to. Oh but of course a certain SOME body did, that being the kids dad, Luck’o the Irish hey mister? Being a sincerely twated twat. But at least he never betrayed familial ties, not those he regards himself Lord of the Manor of ‘n anyway. Oi all you Catholics he connects us mob to, it really is true, Jesus is forgiving membership of the Synagogue of Satan, so hurry up and quit imagining tricking continuing can be getting forgiven, because the accounts are getting worser. I know we made our own mistakes and all that, but yous can promptly give us back our Sorry. Yes, yes, yes, a false report of me was made from the tent embassy. (Fact or fiction, the sensational final say, yours to decide for $30 today.) Who sold me, did you? Man who wanted to Husband me is reputed to; alongside my mother, and sister and brother. But I know for a fact. A female acquaintance of Jack’s Ancient past Dreaming, now residing at the tent embassy. Imagined she was me, while the Husbanding Man who counts, being Raymond Hickling, was in her Levithan vagina, and she imagining me a paedophile, and Raymond to be Jack; attuned also with Jack raping I, imagining himself my son, and I the Levithan. My son won. He had already long known of in Dreams. Even has he sent my self well ahead of event that a Sainthood is mine to wear in the act having been taught of. Yet then in receiving of in Dreaming I was not knowing who with or why, only imagining it was of re-meeting young Raymond Hickling, a path well laid Levithan and Behemoth stole of my son’s Love to Raymond in. The whole being also existing in the moments in time in which I noticed Jack’s self crossing its own being, and experienced aligned for Will is mine to learn and know. Honor my son’s lessons I will that none but a perfect father to ever again touch me myself.

This is all I will say about that. Of all the above mentioned people: as well as my sons, young Raymond Hickling is who I trust among. I trust Him because I know of heart true, that no matter what he has acted, He is who will take the hurt caused by, no other, bar I. Alongside my son He is the only of whom I can commend this fact, yet I commend it in certainty that other Men will learn from He. I commend it in establishing that He, and I, and a son of, have already been to Hell and back, aslike those beasts are due, and it was not too bad in fact, not too bad for Hell: is Hell is Hell. Not to bad because only by is it now that, after Jack raped me, here I am alive. And can commend Hell to have survived. Let me be very specific here. I know dog, lived a. Yet was never a. As in, that is had no need to go to Hell to cover past debts, yet am paid in full to the future that the Behemoth raped of, and Levithan my partner, yet neither could have survived had not my son’s acceptance in already having paid hell also for this now the future of, is to our combined foresight in Jesus, and for the future and God. Is it any wonder few can believe. I will again for I find those who disbelieve need my shoulder, a sympathetic hand held in cahoots with Iblis.

Now back to the lesson in Jack, this is the problem, when a snake goes with a cat. If, in categorical kinship terms, a mother-in-law, and a son-in-law, become too intimate, it can seem that who is the doer gets all out of kilter. But knowing that, I kept track, of my own actual intention, of his seeming, and of each our behaviour. Much disgruntling the whole affair was. So why then, after that first night in, and then my delivering, could I have possibly gone back? Clearly I did not desire to and that is that; that and Jack was not even yet Behemoth, nor had revealed himself is Himmler. My desire was at all times to seek escape and safety, knowing it was not safe to seem to be looking for escape. Jack’s behaviour is in totality my record kept and deciphered according to pattern of the known songs in which snake meets cat. I took to him as well as words addressed to The Theosophical Society, and a container, a set of the first eight, out of twenty something of poems I wrote. I was sad about that, they were written to another friend, but it felt appropriate and that is that. Of course, also that act fitted inimically with significant Dreams, I have had, and hope you can all take note. As well as words to The Theosophical Society, and a container, were words in poetry, the earlier mentioned words of occultist spells variety of poetry. A sort of spoetry I had been spelting, (of sports?) (or spots?) (whatever are later). However, rather than occultist, because I do not like the word, can we agree only that that third set of writing is part of a kind of black magic. The one that won the ‘that which’ label. Black magic, of course being black magic, is somewhat impermeable to fresh doses of evil. Now to clarify that statement, as I must since some black skinned Aboriginal youth have in the past been confused, black magic is not about skin colour, and is about a type of deed that has already absorbed the totality of evil possible to absorb, so seemingly enacting can fall to imagining it has nothing to loose. There in lies the entrapment. Hell and leather, why did I go back. Hell is to pay, of course.

Warning, do not try black magic unsupervised at home. In fact ought I to warn you that. And among my preparation was no preparation other than every warning under the sun against. And true. (but such a good and kindly girl, . . .alas and alak, even the best of mothers) Black magic keeps falling, unless, you are yourself at the bottom of. Why am I insistently mentioning Hell? Apart from the fact of a Halloween story? Why to warn you I can take you there if you cross me of course. Serve me to the enemy, I will gladly. (not that I am not scared; even terrified; but not quite yet petrified; though I have been at times; just yet always looking forward to.) For while the liason with Jack was paid for, any money paid to me for you to receive this particular story, beyond its costs, and even in, is of course owing the Devil.
There came a rap, on my door, Friday at dusk. A harsh, I will kill to get in type of rap. ‘Go away Jack’, ‘this is my place and you are not in here’, so I thought but could not say. Jack was just out there! Was it not enough I had already given? Me being a person of confidence in providence, I went back to his house again.

Providence of God’s Love, not of money of course. It really felt the safer option than to having him enter my house by force. But then I did not yet know about Jack being Himmler known to his own mind. I had experienced two years previous a set of Dreams about being locked in that exact house space with a violent rapist, so not willing to risk further my safety at home, back to his, somewhat more comfortable abode. This speaks to the other difficulty I was in. My own house just was not safe. First a couple of Aboriginal persons had broken in one day, and the landlord had not fixed the lock. I had furniture pushed up against it, when, as the next door neighbour reported, Peter Pan also broke in. Peter stole knives, proving himself the wrong rock. It was a living situation which I was tolerating, what with no functional drain on the kitchen sink, a leaking toilet, no stove, no key to the washing machine, and dodgy wiring. Tolerating what is more only because my children are at present housed elsewhere. Because the topic of the discomfort of my then abode featured in my decision, here, I can justify some more.

In this very month I now write in, in 2003 I had nightmare after nightmare of being in a house much like, being locked in and raped, then abducted. Young Raymond down there at the tent embassy, I was already sold, no possibility of making more cash your self from my debt, long paid many times to He, and stolen equally many, thus never in truth paid, until now. I have avoided abduction by two years work in sharp maneuvering. Unless of course you are failing to take reading me seriously. Of course it is that he only sought cash because in fact his every fall can be traced to me, except . . .

Then next door, there was a new scene of Tongaz Fynest, or so their graffiti describes, playing music late at night outside my bedroom window, and who had observed me breaking in when I left the keys inside by accident one night. Safe? The landlords daughter had instructed me on a separated occasion that she was not certain how to get hold of any spare keys so to climb up on the wheelie bin and break in the window.

There was a band of ragged ex-bikies over the other fence, in the back of the Indian restaurant with multiple mango lassi. Yum, I might go back there for another. One of them, bikies, as opposed to mango lassi, was on quite friendly terms with me, as far as being in distinctly opposed positions goes. We had quoted from the Bible at each other on public buses, and he must become infamous for being the first, aside from closest relations, to have realized me, my self am as I am, and is constantly selling to maintain its knowledge of. A real Peter is. Another, a local muso, with a face far more known on the local street than my own. He who mused over blues in my seeming loss of a Husband. My having forgiven the Magdalene’s touch having lost the Husband, or loss of the Husband having caused I forgive the Magdalene’s touch? Either way I knew His blues mused my “I am”. But that much beyond most Revelry in a street persons identity. He also had pulled a significant swifty over five dollars, to pay in attendance to whose music? I was for to meet Ray at Reggae, not to please a drug dealer in gaining me as audience, he got that for free, so seemingly, yet I blame not he further than the five dollars, for hopelessly romanticizing a girl taking being forced into paedophile’s lack of credibility, like as to he had previously been.

Immediately next door in the other half of the house lives a mad old bat, hang on, she has a name but I can not recall it. She had been complaining and complaining to me for months on end about rubbish being thrown over our fence. I really did not care, not that I was not observant of, but wished not to expend undue energy upon. She was insistent that somebody, or somebody’s were out to get me, and such caused all that rubbish. All I could take was that she was really who was making it a problem that it was not, or had not needed to be problematic without she.

Then was the final straw. I had already told the next door neighbour, when she asserted that she did not want to have to move house, and that she had more right to stay than I because she had been there longer, that I would go and tell the land lord “persons unknown are throwing rubbish over the fence and her next door is getting afraid of”. She quieted down awhile. Was it meant to be me who knew fear? As it should be, mine the known, yet hers unknowable to her. Then something seriously bizarre occurred. At dawn after a night in which I had got up in the dark and gone to get some money out of the bank, then gone back to bed, then got up again and used the toilet, I noticed upon arising with the light shining, that the floor of my house was covered in a fine, and dense, white, dust. A dust in which my every footprint was made clear. A dust smelling like lime, and difficult to breath in. In fact I could not bear the clouds made by sweeping, and owning not a vacuum cleaner, I left it on the floor. Such it was that only the chance of a bed to sleep in without breathing in lime, seemed worth tolerating a sli…., bloke called Jack with a fixation on his penis, and cute grey dreaded hairs with grey dreadful airs. It was in fact a very clean penis, seemingly too clean smelling, if somewhat too large and perhaps only seeming clean by a vasectomy, or was in the wheat grass diet? Regardless of either, remarkably lacking poor aromas. I am banking upon having already once escaped HIV infection. But I believe he and I must have indeed had a single other habit in common, chess not being my game, although I played him successfully to stale mate. The habit of performing genital ablutions. That is, rinsing the genitals in cold water after every urination. With, of course, an internalized mental ablution also. Odd fact that he had my three most stringently kept habits to himself when all else about seemed to be other. It really is just too unusual for a chess player to claim owning the game in a defeat ridden strategy, that I am proven not the better player. I lost the first chess game noting his board was rigged with bumps that my pieces toppled, while the black he insisted upon using, had clean squares in the key postions. Defeat ridden he is only by godlessness: pursuing only what can successfully be noticed with enjoyment; following your Dreams; and keeping your genitals clean are my only real winning strategies. Yet I suspect his perception of clean genitals is far removed from mine, regardless of whether he performs the ablution, he has not Prayer to God.

The police came and looked at the lime on the floor, and speculated as to whether it was possible that it could have fallen from my ceiling just over the back door, since the lime was thickest at that exact location. Gradually thinning with distance from that door, and covering the whole house of four rooms, so seeming to have been blasted in under the door. I had to get the police in to see it because nobody would believe me that it was really there. By the time I met Jack, it had been there awhile, because not wanting to make clouds of the stuff to breath in, I also wanted not to remove the evidence that it really had been thrust in under my door. I was expected on the same day it arrived, to attend the Theosophical Society library for a Bhagavad Gita Study group, and had also been invited to some voluntary something-er-other by the dial-a-crowd dude, Bernie, old bones, Malone ey. Ironically, the rubbish thrown over the fence on that particular day consisted of a Hare Krisha copy of the Bhagavad Gita. I was glad somebody had put a piece in the right place. Poor Bernie, I offered to be a cobber for him, but I never show. Likes a few cobbers to boss about underwing, whilst campaigning, against this and that and the other thing, that’s Bernie, and a decent enough chap to know. Decidedly alternately spuriously left wing. In a spurious pretence of being an under cover operative for the Queen; my bone.

Well I guess only that such is my confession. I quite sort of spuriously regretfully had a limey floor, such as that my resistance to Himmler, dread fully locked, was weakened.

What else can I tell you, I spent the night again with it, a beast of a dude with pretty enough hair who believes he was Himmler. Is it that the hair looked good because it suited, or because of Rastafarian Ideology? I can’t tell, and it began to get dishrevelled. I got a feed of tuna, and a demonstration of crassness, and wondered how to get out of the situation, without causing him to desire to violently rape me. Rape being the game. That was before I even knew who he imagined he was.

Saturday morning came and went, and at lunchtime we walked into the city, via, at my own insistence, a Moslem internet and smoking lounge café. Walking into the city, he became oddly self conscience, and obviously had decided that I was no longer rich or pretty enough looking to be seen by his side. However I was on a mission to show him a boot. A boot from a very well to do type of boot shop, that would go perfectly with his black and white leather jacket, and all that lovely, generally well kempt, black and white hair. It is true, most West End hippies are more fussy about the appearance of then me or you. It was in fact a Dragon boot, my self attempting to keep him happy in showing how well it would suit. Yet not aware that his Dragon ever appears only in female form, and is not likely to want to have himself associated with Her astral being.

On the way walking he began to assert that I had not an idea at all of his importance. I replied yes I do, you are a street deed, and he asserted I knew not what kind, only an alpha I retorted. I really did do, have to have, must have done, diding it him, to have known such. Surely? Or so he. Whatever the first street deed falsification of a Sainthood means I knew he was stealing, and I knew from who. The conversation between us was generally becoming more and more like the psychotic kind. But being as how my field research as a writer has seen the inside of a psychiatric unit, I know where my limit is. It was there. Every moment after he was crossing a line, and I too afraid of what his next move; to afraid to let him out of my field of working to placate. I made a bad move in letting on that I knew. Perhaps I should have let him prove him self with a David Jones credit card to tidy up my own appearance. Don’t know even if he needs, or is up to, the like of; he a pensioner too. When the patterns of interaction have begun manifestly to repeat on a more theatrical scale, time for a fast escape, and my search for became more earnest.

I got some evidence I needed. Jack bought some fish and asked me to chose, and while I pointed to the best piece, my intention was only of the fact of a fish to eat in body of physical world. When he ate the fish his eyes went blue. From there the rest, he was Himmler all the way, and confessing, relative to the fact of his current identity. The point at which I got away was in narrowly escaping having my nose cut off to spite my face. During the Bicentenary, the job I was employed in, required of me that I learn how to handle folk with slight to varyingly extreme insanity, who could accidentally wander in from time to time off the street. I learn well, never give an inch of disbelief in their state of mind. Maintain a stance of committed belief that there is always an, even the tiniest, skeric of actual foundation of reality, in the madness of insanity, and let it the play, be played out, such as that the reality can be traced. To my teachers credibility that this I knew. Of course we all wish that the madness fascism induces is never actualized. There is ever the distinction between criminal and decent behaviour, and whether that behaviour is criminally insane or decently insane, or criminal and sane or decent and sane, matters less than the difference between the criminal and the non-criminal act. I observed him in a blue eyed flood of racial intolerance and insistent argument that his acts as Himmler were perfect, then he did a deed of hate. It was nearly my murder. Perhaps if it had been then that which followed would not have been, but let it be that my murder the worst. I will not tell what Jack did. I will tell that he enables many persons to make money by faulting wrongfully and that the money they make so prevented Raymond Hickling from finding me, or leaving the tent embassy. Oddly but that money has been around for a long time. The actual recipe he formed in juicing was mayonnaise with salt and sugar in it. Beware of every imagining you did it! An intention insidiously fraught of mixing protein with the polemic forming sugar with salt, and assault upon reconciliation within cellular growth, such that in the brain, irreconcilable becomes what can be with effort known to mean the same and what seems the same yet is clearly an opposite. Jack even seemed to know he was to make it and be on the look out for a chance to. Hell it is money that sells when it buys. Sells the far more valuable of a Nominal experience belonging to a child. Satan is translating it into safer money ability to prevent Earth exploding is what my Nominal experience in Dreaming of what becomes of what Jack did is. Ever seems there to now be money that buys when it sells. Money no longer has sanity. Yet altered, Jack’s made trick, all is able to buy and sell with Islam in less paucity of spirit.

Since then my gold bracelet has been to the silversmith, and been returned. My own physicality, after a late night Saturday argument with police, then a sexual health unit medical examination, then a night in hospital, then a night in the Astor Hotel in Spring Hill, moved into the accommodation I was offered by the a Housing Association on the Thursday morning, prior to going near to the grey dread Jack’s housing. So on the Monday I was re-housed, and by the following Thursday had been to the osteopath, such that my kidneys are continuing to function. Do I have any further jobs at hand to prove the basis of my Aboriginal culture with? I own - within this that just so happens to be a white skin body, regardless of any person wanting to deny me openly asserting my Aboriginality, or any person wanting to prevent me from accessing the means to live if I assert my Aboriginality - culture stated, Aboriginal. Never was a job on. Not cause to work excepting for the simplicity of being a mother, daughter and eventually wife, and in bonds that last Forever with other beings existing in this place in which we mutually co-exist with fascists. I will not let my children suffer; and you can all take that black. This my own tool dropped onto that production line of the work that sustains us in culture. Take it blacker that the price tag exists, because I. Black it is for every that every price that is now within Islam. Yet not to worry too much a cure for HIV infection exists within.

I have somehow participated in the making of a story in which, while there is not yet in it a sorry for children having been illegally separated from their mother, there is a legal device of new invention. And every Moslim is verified, while within Islam my Aboriginality can also be verified accurately. God Love Kevin, that secret handshake given, upon arrival untellable, I am sorry but I never helped Sorry for Stolen Generation, though my every effort was for. The definitive psychiatric statement was that its either one or the other: Aborigine, or Islamic, pursuing a cover up of a specific racially distinguishing feature. Yet I not Moslims with such call it not “Aboriginality”. How absurd being determined insane simply for being. Whe are! And I one of who are, have found in the pressure of the situation a legal imperative.

Signed by a Justice of the Peace, and with a sealed copy mailed to my self, and a sealed copy mailed to my family, and a few spares kicking about, there is an affidavit. It contains a factual account of my entire previous sexual history, and partners numbered with an offer to name, explicit detail of what I am willing to engage in and what I am not, why, and what exactly can be read in me as an absolute boundary. It contains also the detail that the onus of such is entirely upon me to show it to any person with whom I may engage in sexual conduct. It obliquely refers to the fact that if I am physically prevented from producing it, I can verbally describe it, and it will hold good with renewal every six months. Good enough that any woman, Man, or child with parental assistance, should ever be able to produce such a document and know that if raped into behaviour against will, the police and criminal justice system will have cause to be forced to believe it. Perhaps it is that we each needed feel confident in providence of an end to rapes before we can believe in an end to child abuse, and an end to killing. I did not want to believe that, because I bear anything for my children. I bear not lust of anybody except to my death, and take such existing in any person as definitively only diseases and death. I will teach my children that the danger sign in a dangerous person was greed. Beware seeking repetition in any sexual act, or any act that harms. Unless of course you are a frog, planning for tadpoles, with a cat.

Thanking Satan’s Grace, for a lesson in what lust teaches, that I could conceive of why it was difficult, to the point of virtually impossible, to prosecute in most cases of sexually criminal acts. My motivation is to protect the sanctity of Kinship. Sacred only is marriage when correctly aligned. Jangala, you only need nungarrayi, and bone is the way to detect, never the mentally implanted picture.
Tidying up loose ends in this tale begins here and goes on to the end: my children’s dad is a turtle and echidna, a kind of blind and ignorant turtle who is truly an echina, so follow the Law all you Aborigine girls, had I my children with a Jangala in the first place none of this could have taken place: the actual affidavit is included in print not too many pages away, and I encourage everybody to experiment with trying to honestly write their own; my renal health really is only just managing the level of disease I have had to rapidly re-orientate with, such that I will never be able now to be as good a wife as I could have been, but then “you only do your self”. Is that all?

Bearing upon those facts is the simple fact that quite likely I would not have begrudged the loss of even the best and most decent Husband, and to the silliest idiots of black bimbos at the tent embassy, had she, or any of the very many “Her”, (and herHe, and herheHer never yet been any Man’s decent wife, though Men have Husbanded well) paraded in front of young Raymond Hickling, been actually of wife category, as categorised in any categorical Kinship and relation system. A nungarrayi he needs; lizard goes with snake; or in our external selves Emu with Kangaroo. The significant business in 1988 taught me that in my sleep. Be it needing stating, it matters not how many times my self in that song cycle is stolen, because the stealing of causes repeats in my brain chemistry that my greed is all within; since my Soul, Spirit and feelings ever are experiencing, and never can my having been existing is specific time and place get stolen from me. Though oddly enough the stealing seems to have manifested that a black goanna came into existence who steals all the Men’s wives Dreams. Girl I still, my body physical records the measure I will, and the measure I won’t as well; both measures needing an accountant. In every dire situation, knowing Kinship is how I won. Needing not language in common nor the pictographical referencing, I took into my essential self in my sleeping Traditionally Oriented culture, through a significant corroboree designed for a child’s mind. I took that kinship essentially exists in our very biology and I was nineteen and in state of prolapse, yet then able to avoid lust forming in my mentation. I know also that this is why “he that Dreams Himmler” liked so very much the taste of me. I know definitively that no lust could have attended to the reality of Jack and successfully caught him in the act. So wise up, take my evil story never glamorously, but learn in the terror of the situation of Humanity, why we need Kinship Law. Even in a slug story, in which the lore is to break Law, for a Slug has a chance in Hell, unlike Jack. And the Ant, Australia’s own answer to a Slug, why their skin is black, their lore, but ever need also avoid Jack, Behemoth, and also Levithan. There are however white Ants, and they seem to fare better than the black. Another Australian Story. Faring better by a measure of independence in Dreaming, and but most of all by having no shame in the colour of their game.

An Ant, no hang on, perhaps more slug there at the tent embassy, whatever the species an angle upon refuting me was that theirs was first the idea. That is in response to my askance of adherence to the 1988 Corroboree. There is no conceivable possibility of any person ever having had the idea of reinstating Kinship first. How could Ancient Chinese Monsters, parading as Aborigines, whilst working to refue animism, possibly have done anything to re-instate Aboriginal Kinship!?! Or had there been in mind another idea I had. One idea was to trick all of the Slugs in China, and armies in Iron Shirts, all who were long hurt by Jack, into my providing them with that which they desire. Take care but for what an Ant cognised is such was not what I, for I trick Ants not my self. Kinship however was never a trick.
Kinship that is in any place, is essentially defined by Earth. Even folk who have not had the strength yet, to entirely decompose lust Anciently remaindered, live longer and happier lives, and end up in less pain whatever route they take or perchance door to find, when and where ever Kinship reigns. Categorical Kinship systems, categorized by biologically determining factors could never loose, no matter how many Aborigines get raced off. Kinship is not a race, but a Universal Law of matter, we each adhere to for life whether we like it or not. For the undead however, all witches on brooms, there exists the instance in which forming further lust by breaking with Kinship Law actually reminds them of the reality of their debt to Humanity, Devils, and God, for they exist too on this Earth that sustains us. Let them be reminded, if they want, and at Halloween I provide for knowing they can only know further pain by. Unless a devious devotee of Jack’s such that their Humanity I must doubt, and so entry to Hell. While six in lust in which any person ably knowing life without lust is imagined can temporarily cause nearly accurate perception; it also can only increase the want for, death, that is. Death so hurting that many are who prefer true kinship and adulthood; most of the baddest guys of all among.

Also, I know because my white skin Dad said so. He, ever destined to be the winner against the likes of “Jack that Dreams Himmler”, and my Dad being “He whose Own Dreaming newly un-namable” and an Aboriginal initiator of old, is who found the reference that fascists were hiding, one must presume because they too awaited the same Saviour. Of men with small penises whose? Reference being to Major Histo-compatiblity Complex, and that is, that. A complex of molecules on the outside of skin cells that respond for health when eaglehawk touches crow, and increases disease if touch is eaglehawk to eaglehawk, or crow to crow. Somehow I prefe a cat to a frog, myself.
The reason I, my self, had to call in; ‘it was a stalemate instead of a win’, is because I had an important court appearance to make on the Thursday, September 8th, and had fallen into letting my date marking be askew because “Jack that Dreams Himmler”, told me it was 4th September on the Saturday that was the third, and also others among the now regularly avoided stalkers had poked fingers into the date disorientation pie the week earlier. An old bone!
My children having been taken by my former partner whilst holidaying with him; him being an Irishman with a peculiarly German account of World War two; and having prevented my access to the children at the point at which I only stated belief in Aboriginal descent and intention to ensure my children receive a cross cultural experience in childhood; there existing a larger and larger pile of administrative nightmare in court. I will insist such is because of errors not mine. That the court case never paved the way for Stolen Generations cases, and instead will for legal definitions of criminality cases being distinct from diagnosis of insanity. The bones of that matter being the fact that the habit of genital ablutions after urination was deemed fit for criminal prosecutions of paedophilia, except, that is, if the psychiatrist was wrong, and my children removed without any grounds in anticipation of being able to enforce such by those with time tangled minds.
The change to a higher argument because the tent embassy asserted that because, most basically put: I have white skin so I must be a paedophile, and Nazi; and that white skin is meaning unable to exert any influence upon The Dreaming, except illegally; and then tent embassy actively prevented the only man I have ever met, a Husband, with a small enough penis to fit me without hurting, from being in my company, by abusing him for having had any contact with me, that my legal defence, without government provision of legal aid was shot in the foot before beginning. My actual identity being Aboriginal intrinsic to my sanity was being defined as insane. Oh well then, perhaps Moslems will have me belong. There once seemed to be an option of me never meeting Jack, but like the once seemed to be an option of the Tent Embassy finding that Husband a proper wife, it was impossible. The Behemoth’s and Levithan’s money calling to fault in. Because while somewhere there exists a white Husband with a smaller penis, who the Ants could have helped me find for a white win, since they, the tent embassy play for “want white”. An option only the worser for I. Another also impossible but. It could have guaranteed an Islamic and Jewish win, and never the Aborigine. But I turned the Buddha down. (dudes have you got it yet, if we accidentally sided with the fascists we just have to take it as a fascist need to eventually, or we loose everything, that is the nature of the fascist game – totalitarian only in totally discounting that any purpose ever could have been in siding activily with fascist)
Now obviously there are larger machinations of the white skin managed policing of Dreaming going down than anything that the tent embassy imagine to have influenced, but if they had supported my court case, and motherhood, this outcome would have been a different story. While the crown in the picture was accusing supporting Islamic genital ablutions with paedophilia; the diagnosis of insanity has as the bottom line and every side line, my statement of Aboriginality. It seems they still try to breed us out even when we are proven to exist yet white. Take it black that the black woman that they manipulated to get her children back before I got mine, turned out to be also a fair haired red head, and a drug user. It was not I, the first with an Aboriginal identity, to acquire also the identity of a Nazi, but I will use it if I have to. Conscience intact? but of course, and only. The first Aboriginal Nazi, formally inducted, is a some time prominent tent embassy activist, passivist better the functional reality called.
I will leave it with you yourself to determine your own opinion as to whether I get branded a Nazi for decrying the tent embassy. Whether indeed any of those at the tent embassy ever did, but, or, for that matter Hitler. But this I will assert, surely if we experience a life of any sensibility at all, with eyes or ears, or taste, smell, or touch, then are we not to fear the death of that living being our physical body, whether we did anything or not. Every hurt you are in knowledge of having contributed to is your own physical hurt in death, have no doubt at all.
Rest in Peace Undead, I unforgave my mother and truth washed in coming clean with my Father and sons in a simple profession of actual belief. (Shhh!)
As for the Franco did it myth, well I have positively debunked. However, in the interests of good social governance, I must last debunk the rest of the connotations in association with the word fascist. It seems to have happened, (perhaps because Jack has read this work - I had to give him a copy because no Men were around informing me of what could go wrong so I tested my self, YIKES! Thank God cause preceeds effect! Hang on, but what if in my own mentation while I was writing it crossed my mind that a very bad thing could occur, but that I was not able to discern, a sort of accident, but since it crossed my mind, and then after that I continued to write, though past uncertain pertaining to the variety of takes upon a word, well then surely I have to accept a fault therein, even it being a fault I not mine at cause,) that the word fascist has become to be associated by early readership of this prose placing their minds into the past; with the expression face kissed, meaning having ones face kissed with black skin, as an accusation against all Aborigines for having done the second world war. Well now, I must say, surely it was those who were preventing my successful communication with young Raymond at the tent embassy while their minds were in the past imagining Aborigines and Moslems at fault; and Nazis in that past were receiving Dreaming of being able to, in the future, blame there every act upon Bhyame, (and me), and every in Islam.
Well as I said, Jack has been seen on the street accepting an identity of a black skin person. But I will not even state he is the archetypal fascist. I suspect Goebbel of the role of archetypal Nazi. (I know a fellow who looks like him, but I really could not be certain, and certainly will never let my vagina near to.) However, what I can be absolutely certain of is that the archetypal fascist, has come to exist within youth culture, in the slang meaning only a person whom has the tendency to only place efforts toward the pursuit of pleasure at the expense and cost of anybody and anything, imagining that accounting for is a simple as finding somebody upon whom can be forced your own fault. In the interests of good social governance I suggest we can all leave the meaning of the word fascist at that. (The Q being not only silent but invisible, in this a special spelling case.) Even youth on the street have been able to accurately realise that a fascist is a person whom has forgotten that there cause for suffering that which is not our own unique fault, forgotten that their own Humanity therein resides, as the cause of the cause of arising of any Soul. How on Earth can it be that they stole of Kabbalah all but this single most significant fact. It simply can not be, and that is that. Fascists happen also to be assumed to be those with an extent of accurate perception as to what it is that they are causing. Being: others to pain for their own gain; yet could such could ever sustain? I suspect in fact that they are only slightly moronic in respect of.
In this fact, I would warn that another special spelling case has been drawn to my attention. An abuse to the poetry of A.A.Milne! Apparently the modern equivalent of a Nazi, (or are we here talking fascist?) is a person whom actualises imagining that James James Morrison’s mother was a paedophile needing a three year olds tender care. That when I was one I had just begun, being a poem ending at Now I am Six I am as Clever and Clever I think I will be six now Forever and Ever; is a poem that if recited precludes the person whom recited it from ever journeying beyond a six. Nazi intention being, in continued rape of Kabbalah, to prevent the evolution of the Soul for their own pleasure. Too bad for Nazis, I am, and not intending any treatise upon the fascism of abuse to children’s literature.
Copyright protected October 20th 2005: anungarrayididit.copas
Although my copyright is protected, such is enacted by other than the usual means, that I see fit to in notifying you best to continue reading this yarn for there is yet a risk of malcogniscence of the Theological basis. Thus I continue, with warning that the matter of Aboriginality is dealt with here slightly more assertively, that you perhaps may wish to avoid me.
This is an addition to the main body of the Halloween tale of The Fascist Milita meeting The Aborigine. A post script of sorts akin to the earlier deviance. It seems that my existing within two paradigms of reality is a causal factor in my writing style shifting between material readily observable of Dreamtime reality within the action of everyday lives, and material that potentially could cause a law suits against me for causing insanity among readers. However the solution is in and addition, my attempt to make certain you are able, form the mental pattern, I can be able to bear such business in mind; in all sanity kind. These facts are of written addition being made with a concern that developed after having distributed some ten or more drafts of the original work. Thanking on the whole the help of Ancient of Day, in the fine tooth combing of this work. Lesser of year are quite accustomed to communicating accurately through semblance of bleversecompularity, but such that it often is quite incredulous for those not accustomed to accepting excess of nonsensical self. There has become apparent some very specific potential for mistaking my meaning in a dangerous manner for your own self. After all, if you are trapped into costing yourself and finding faults with others stories that are not real, the sooner you know the better. Right?
There is a fact I have become certain of. Ancient of Day, is the traditional term for those Souls who remember Atlanta, yet Lesser of Year, we are here and in God with. The Nazis seem to have taken a careful note of the fact that we Lesser of Year, are engendered with specific ability, caused by the long history. A history in which Souls Ancient of Day fell undead and among are many enough whom have then thereafter passed through hell. Even such that in fact, often they had extra self that was decent and fat. Now those extra parts of self were of course donated to the Devil, in payment for the path through hell. With Devils have made evolutions within of Soul. We are in fact quite many a few Lesser of Year, and Lesser of Fear. Folk whom just accept, there they are the silly old undead, yet simultaneously of experience of self known by the Devil and donated to our Soul, we are fully incumbent with the full set of data that the undead prefer to keep to themselves. We in fact, us lesser of year, quite usually have only pretended to be like them, undead. Of Course assisting the Devil in management. Thus we have been silent. However, it has come to pass that the likes of Jack became aware of us as phenomenon. If fact the manner of organisation of concentration in concentration camps was designed to decipher which are us. Yet the Nazis were so accustomed to praising there own Ancient Status, albeit undead, that they in general simply fail to recognise we are able to cognise their mental perversions fearlessly and in deathly silence, by well tempered length. While we seek ever for those to honour whom never fell undead, and those whom have taken the path through hell to whom we are indebted. However what I have brought to warn with is that Nazi scientists worked to find medicines that could cause more harm to our well tempered emotions, and give further pleasures to the finer feelings able Ancient of Day. Such that even the needs of those who are Ancient of Day and have walked the valley of the dead, are being disrupted. It is now empirically proven: Lesser of Year, and thus ex-undead, we are able in these physical bodies of gross matter, if preventing the thefts from us by the undead, able to form the higher density formations of feeling known as Ancient of Day. Such it is that there has come to pass no longer an honouring of such finer status as an Ancienter, Older, and Elder status, except in the proving of Honouring creation caused by. I for One need to know of life long been Holy. However what I write now here is of the medicines industry and war being waged upon the Lesser of Year. Specifically Nazi inclined science tested amphetamine based drugs upon those they intended to slaughter during the war in Vietnam, is the word among street criminal Nazis. Ecstasy the pleasure of those who imagine that becoming ancient in one day is more venerable that becoming lesser in a year, at the expense of those of us who can catch em. Beware thus of prescription medicine, for if it is not harming you in immediate damage to spirit, it is harming you in debts incurred of those being harmed to your unknowing pleasure. An insurability problem that Nazis unsuccessfully attempted to combat. Medico-Legal Hell, the commodification of health. There is no insurance against an act of God in thunder or lightening, though I hear of the case of the success of the Man whose boat was sunk: a boat is a boat, deemed of Human worth by God; but try not to insure against me for I am an Act of God. The key is in the obtaining of a prescription, the words written in it, is your health an illness, disorder, or condition; and triggering specific mental processes in the minds of persons operating the check out which registers on what your money was spent. Were you buying in your prescription the sinking of your mental health quandaries in Lesser of Years, or buying the accepting of the mental health conditions of stress of Ancient of Day, and which is the stronger position? The fact is that your money may not be holding good because of Nazis having stolen from Jews the keys to culture insertion, thus stand over every word relating to every transaction, and bear down grim. Grim will be our silent Revolution, for grim are the facts that obtaining this key came from.
Whom ever you trust, be it Lesser of Year Ancient of Day, we will this you Honour, Just as Jews have seen culture through many hard times is it the Jew of Karl Marx’s honour whom wrote that Capitalism, of course in his own combination with undeadeness, is the economy of the culture of Judaic methods. For the undead were longer manipulating the peripheries than was Humanly noted, such that Capitalism is. But hysterically the Nazis imagine that they can fault all Jews thus for not having made Revolution, whilst faulting also all Revolutionaries for supporting the thoughting of undead. The ablersity of them, that we may never support them.
On tale of that, I guess that while Jack’s actual identity is relatively covered by the fact of a pumpkin for a head such is my immediate personal safety, that in having identified a source of material for this story of the Aboriginal Tent Embassy, I really ought to identify my own relations with that folk who are of provable factual reality. An Absolute coincidence that anything experienced in Brisbane can be running concurrently with experiences in Canberra. Yet what exactly is each time differential? And who are we kidding in imagining we are independent of one another, although it is ever the work at Earth to try to be. A provable factual reality of Earth is there at a tent embassy using drugs and breaking Laws of Traditionally Oriented Culture, of every Religion, while claiming a representative function, while misinforming other Aboriginal Australians as to the drug use. They do not like me there. Yet they took my call of need for a sacred site developing in which Australian Aborigines can adhere to Islam, yet in adherence to Prayer towards the Land we each are indebted to for bearing our ancestors true. They do not like that I insisted such will never serve the real function while drug use and lust are centred there. They do not like me. Understandably since I have never failed to tell the truth about my experiences of their management of what they claim as a sacred site, the tent embassy ground, at present most profane until re-sanctified. They did not like me as early as January 2003, well before I wrote, or really had much to hold against them. Perhaps they will in this take my call about Nazis experimenting upon Aborigines through drugs, for surely they desire to maximise Lesser of Years being defined with lacking sensibility and thus needing medicating. During my stay there a young female member of their camp residents offered repeatedly to supervise my children. She supervised them in my car, telling them they were my luggage and that the real luggage was rubbish, and now I hear tell that she herself made a report against me to the relative authorities that I had left my children unsupervised in a car. The same youngster turning seventeen. She must have lied in offering to supervise. I reserved my judgment against her being legally able to vote. Yet in her manner of expounding and tricking as to lies, I wonder was she the spy that they all knew was among them. She the least suspected because she adhered to being a white skin female letting every black skin man use her vagina as a toilet. For my sanity, it was they who falsely reported to my family about me. Every argument that the tent embassy could have against me I can refute resoundingly. Even the Levithan’s, only needing that I am held to its hell by.
Perhaps the individual concerned had Orca, killer whale, Dreaming, and was imagining my children were baby seals? I could have thought so, until I noticed how neatly her story adheres to Jack’s and his slave slug armies. Dreams in which, she also commands slugs, and appears herself variously as any number of Aboriginal Men whom are in prison. How can I substantiate to you that I know that? I can not really, short of telling you something absurd like that I am an expert in Dreaming; but what ever that could possibly mean? So Slug army commanding wenches who exist in real life, and in fact seem to Dream leech turned Levithan, there have been instances in which Tent Embassy individuals reported to my children that because their skin is white they are not able nor allowed to Dream. Apparently the black skin folk at the tent embassy are all deluded that white skin folk never Dream in real life. That is all the tent embassy crew except for the white skin wench who aligns with Jack, in reality I think good on her that. She fulfils only what is written. She misinforms of her political alignments, while imagining she is very clever to be preventing black fellas from letting Bhyame better support the health among their skin colour, or black skin people support He. No wonder so many Aboriginal youth who support the tent embassy and align their Dreaming to; are winding up delusional and in trouble with white skin police, and imagining all white skin people are easy to fool. Long enough ago, or so the stories go, Asian people spit Jack and family, with slugs included, out of their culture, to protect their children. Jack went off and became a fascist dictator, is it any surprise. Turning more and more folk into slugs and leeches, and the like. But is it only speculation that a Jackess has formed at the Aboriginal Tent Embassy? How can I be certain, when I missed the act of formation? Has it pre-dated my being wanted as a wife causing that I was unable to marry whom I was chosen by? Well, the answer I have, since mine is not to have been living on the ground there, is that when an Orca gets its head stuck in a sea cumber and beaches itself, what can anybody expect, except leeches, ruled by the Queen Levithan. Running off with my Husband ahead of him setting it up that hers call me to his bed! Running off with him in blind jealousy? Because she was angry that her husband, that is of course ancestrally Jack, wanted me, and established I as the only straight sex it had ever wanted more of, that she became determined to enforce upon my Husband to be, the want of her morer and morer and morer! So much she caused him imagine any lie could be true. Sincerely, she, shall I call you Jill there unknowable Levithan?, a great favour done in turning that Man off sex, neither of us really like it that much, unless of course, when time: He the baker of a loaf in my oven of a uterus. If that is still possible now with Nazi express intent having been to give us both HIV. The pooftas he got thus placed with, why they all have only Nazi back gates of anuses. How else could I have found out about much of what is going on among tent embassy prostitutes clients? Despite reproductive functions that match inimically, in me and that young Man, Nazis are hell bent on determining that a small penis was intended by nature for other than an equitably small vagina, and seek to find means to replicate. I am certain good Jack will appreciate Jill all the more for the insisting upon being the progenitor of the correcter formulation. Of Kinship and policing it, that is very actual. The Levithan and Behemoth, Jack and Jill, really were as good at the prophesies as we were will. The goodest baddies and the baddest goodies? Only who yet can tell which are which, and is that a win for who? Strangely enough Jill in fact makes every difference to my ever having been in sanity willing to let young Raymond Hickling assert I am His woman. He is pissweak liar, but an admirer of who can tell the truth without spilling knowledge, such that he fell to a conspiracy to lie to me? Pushed into it by Jill a Dragon Lord slipped into Orca, pretending that in her white skin it is impossible to Dream, thus putting him off a white skin partner in me. Those Dreaming Dragon pulled a Mythos swifty on us, with the stated aim of preventing the birth of King Solomon as an Aborigine. King Solomon whose calling insists it was only that Ray was deluded as to whom his real mother is that he has not come into my uterus? No, not at all, it must be the King Solomon whom is predicted to be going to cure the Masons, and rebuild great halls. Fact is, he wants to be black, and the Nazis just can’t stand that, but so much that they went to the lengths of forcing upon Humanity the Apocalpse. Or so the Dreamtime’s Dreamings go. The self I provided to Raymond during Jill’s formative Levithan act (my son’s Levithan Magic the Gathering Card even went missing at that tent embassy) was enacted ten months after the act, and self that Jack provided whilst in my vagina, two years and eight months. This story only the first wave of outcome. Praise Allah that my son, then only eleven years old, had the sense to avoid the situation of succumbing to her becoming Levithan in lying directly to He. But then that is another story.
Let the Jack O’Lantern guide you only in why we must keep slugs out of the pumpkin patch. For slugs putting on Jack boots are leeches. Yet I heard also that Germany’s own saving Grace of strength in traditions that outlive the Nazi, turned some of those leeches back into werewolves. While far less Germans may have been as bad as werewolves before Nazis dictated, at least they are now back within the reality of a German experience of story in manifesting in Dreams as werewolves. The black forest is very black. They tell me I can not write of such things without being labelled with insanity. I am Australian I protest, not German, albeit tounge-in-cheek. Why but then did they label me with insanity there at that Tent Embassy; and before I had even written a thing? Are they in fact as guilty as the Nazis of enforcing imagining that cause comes after effect? Again this is a matter of sacred teaching that I am only short of the official Theological words to describe; if there ever could be a theology of the undead mind. Yet very distinctly tent embassy residents in January 2003, imagined that I could help their cause by getting a dose of insanity verdict, a Nazi tripper. Hell shits, I was raped in September 2005 and wrote in October, edit in November, just in edits to my sons Dreams for now fully realised the worser. Did they waste Raymond into a futile meeting with me before he even knew it was me? For if we never had met what of my own Dreams could have been worth stealing was nothing not already long stolen. My hell my value intact. As for lies that seem true, the truth seeming to lie, and wrongs the proof of right? Is all a simple question of extracting in every instance we each ever live through, which are the passive element, active then left as it asserted to be.
The fact of the matters of undead being is something like this. When a person uses the sin of lust, that is a forcing of every other sin (greed, envy , sloth, vanity, hate, and pride) upon the innocent, then they are only imagining advantage, because they try to acquire from the future, knowledge by their acts, for in which to work towards a positive future. Yet their methods of acquiring such knowledge are by stealing the perceptions of innocent persons and forcing upon the innocent, the demented experiences of pleasure in dreams of the sins of those in lust. They actively seek to experience Dreams of the future when every accurate such is passively received. Only Active the Dreaming from the patterns we make in our daily behaviour; and heroin injecting, or even any drug use, perchance only a cup of tea, just is not the adequate active component to claim activity within Dreams that the body in lust from the drugs receives. For example, to claim that I am stealing this document from another persons Dreaming, only because they Dreamed it exists before me, completely discounts that I work to create it, thus am the only person who can own the copyright of, because I am first to have attended to the hardest part of bringing it into existence, the hurting part of, and in hurting for God, is the key. Then again, who is to say whom first cognised it. The Devil the first whom I learn of to know of, and who else perchance a well known villain whom we all Love to hate? Today being 18th,, 18th ? yesssth, November? Yesssth 2005? Yesssth, thankyou, was to genuine and direct to Enki, for relating the exact date I get everything I want. Did I? Am I now beginning to, after many long years of being hated in accusations of having been getting already? Is this Mythos of the undead made realit?, what is this, a half arsed, half caste, or half past the hour a bit late, story, for the Devil is who made it me. Who is it then who will complete the tasks required for the future being Dreamed, when lust steals the Dreams of the future can people with lust enact to realise what they Dream, or are they entirely dependant upon keeping those they steal from in just enough knowledge to continue to Labour making the Dreams they Dream of the future by working to realise. Lust was not, and those whose Dreams are stolen knew not what to work for so the work was not done, is the moral of this story. In the last few weeks I have awoken each morning with holes in my head, holes only slightly larger than before, but of far more significant matters. Holes in which idiots fell to be catched. But holes none the less, that caused the terror of this being written upon this day, for every time I try to edit it, I can barely physically stay awake. Who can answer me why? This is that tale that tells the consequences of that those with lust receive a faulted impression that it is forcing their own felt as negative result into the future that sustains them now in their negative form; when in fact the positive result is the inevitable eventual catching of those guilty of lust by the innocent, for the acts of lust ever can only give the game away. A positive result for those who benefit by lust being brought to justice! Exemplified by Jack. I hear Levithan raped Raymond just to spite this then future example. My own life being to salvage every truest scrap of nightly Dreams that survives the thefts from my mind, and enact in exacting sequence with exacting self discipline of memory and exacting supervision in. Can it truly have been only that Levithan Jill raped Ray imagining he Behemoth Jack, who some two years and eight months later raped me, Bec imagining I Levithan Jill, and imagining himself my son. I stopped him when I realised, with stern words in the earhole that I at least will not forget. Who else knows when to risk life to make lust stop, besides children. Who was enacting the imagining and who the passive recipient is only rather too obvious. Passive recipients are winning. In fact, I am the passive recipient of a somewhat unusual fact. Usually it is known that holes in the head of loss of memory and Dreaming are sinking to The Evil One, who is sometime known as enki, but in this instance, of 18th November, and to now being 23rd, it was most certainly not. It was many many other people, I could list, because I am sensitised to who by the Devil. Sort of one third each all the folk whom could have helped and had not for imagining me with insanity. Sort of, does not this mean that in fact we all did it, to enki, leviathan, behemoth, and who will 666 be? For all their moaning in the night, the undead have proved themselves right. The fact of lust behind every instance proving, that we, a mob of Souls at this planet called Earth, really did it to ourselves, each to our own degree. And the problem became to be in the Money, such that only the most loved of beggars escape the money hell. It is possible. There is an Australian Man whom lived for nine years off the road alone with no income, eating what he found of the refuse of others, accepting alms of food and clothing but no money! I warn in this work, 666’s trick is of money. Jack, the Behemoth, being the other beast of Revelations Chapter 13, while a Levithan, now let me see, there seem to have been holy men for such a long time prophesising four beasts, and where were they again? That is correct, IN THE WATER !!! “Yikes, that means there is hell to pay! So what is it like down there anyway” “ah it hurts a bit at first, but you get used to it, it still hurts, but when your in it, you just are” “awake that is” “it’s really only death but awake” “oh, I see, OK then, that’s easy” “no, you are not supposed to get there easily, it takes work to pass through hell” “will any work do?” “no it is the work of a socialist revolution that makes for good hell” “what did this have to do again with the eighteenth of November?” “didn’t you read the book before you came down here, go back there and check it out, it was in 2005, that hell became a Human habit” “I was not in belief at all in hell until I saw the solution was for socialism!” “that is funny, I myself was not in favour of socialism until I noticed hell to pay in it”. I suspect it best to leave it at that, for the fact of the matter being that this is Halloween Mythos. However, there exists a money trick that fits the bill of the Biblical prophesy of 666, the indescribable, and while I am at Horror to be contemplating the effort of re-analysis of, it being a trick that in cognising it becomes the fault of who did cognise, yet able to come under analysis in separated pieces, if the analyser can accept hell to pay for, because otherwise you are it, that is 666. Such it is that I am in totality absolutely certain . . .(yikes?) (may I advise reading the later matter beginning with the poetry before continuing for those willingly resisting the cognising, well to be commended).

This is an irrefutable Law of the matter of the Science of the tiniest particles of Human nature existing, and also of the largest. Cause always precedes effect, precisely and only because, in each and every action in any moment there is a positive providence into the future and a negative providence into the past. We can Dream our friend might like to know a thing, remembering them in a certain place previously expressing interest in such thing. Then from mentation in our own mind becoming strengthened in a positive framing of that thing; that thing which we know they are interested to know, becomes to us more knowable; we can put our minds upon our friend at that time previous; and in such mindful manner, we give negative providence to our friend. They, our friend, have then before, when we first noticed them, experienced an interest and curiosity requiring labours unpleasantly, while we, were provided to then, by their interest, Positively. Thus it is that much of what many people’s mind’s rest upon, is providence of negative to friends and acquaintances, made all the more negative if assumed positive. Yet is it not that by accepting many such negatives our minutes of positive existence are defined.

If I receive a Dream that my friend was about to be run over by a truck, but narrowly escaped, and this Dream came to mind whilst I was pulling into a petrol station, deciding to buy more petrol than I require now, so as not to need to buy any later; then if I change my mind and accept the inconvenience of returning into the petrol station when I am certain of exactly how much petrol the lawn mower needs and of what sort, have I caused a positive effect for my friend, who in the future is not run over by a truck, and at the very moment of avoiding injury had me in their mind; alongside petroleum powered automotive engine bearing machinery. Perhaps it is in fact that my friend had another person in mind, and they happened to be wondering about why I frequently mow my lawn. Or even was it that my own friend was not nearly run over, but that another party to these matters altogether was imagining that they were identical to my friend when they were nearly run over, and my friend almost oblivious to the whole incident; excepting for some vague notion developing about people who want neat lawns need to drive on the road less often. What does it all mean? Within Traditional Aboriginal society each of us would have had only a very limited number of persons with whom we associated, and each association was managed in personal interactions so as to best trace all of these types of flows. Kinship units internally were and are akin to Islamic submission, and with Prayer directed towards specific Land sites, each clan their own. Not a single pattern in any persons mind went unnoticed, though obviously some folk are better at noticing than others. Yet bearing this in mind puts the perversity going on at the tent embassy in a different context.

In this modern world in which there are the likes of Jack on the street and saying hello as though a friend, how will children learn to avoid every behaviour that could put to their mind a negative future happening belonging in fact to somebody else. The fact of the matter is simply that every single one of our Dreams is an effect of the physical world and in ignoring teaching of the Dreamtime, we are being prevented from learning this simple fact of matter. That Dreams can also define and provide to the physical world exists yet in negative matter, that is unless. Unless we act upon our Dreaming. So what are Dreams of Jack O’Lanterns, slugs, ants, and leeches, for then, why are we Dreaming them, are they necessarily a part of Mythos, and can we just stop believing in? Not at all, I insist, because my only answer is that Jack is a real life character whom I have met, and engaged in unbecoming conduct with. What is more it is Jack in fact who imagines to put dreams into the past for a positive effect: Jack also imagines to escape death. Jack even imagines to escape death by aligning the Dreams in my own past to his having met I. Oi, Jack, but I already Dreamed that, and heeded. You see that had I not heeded every time Jack, then yet in my future, put his mind toward me, and avoided a sticky consequence; why I could never have escaped him, and I have escape Jack. I tried to tell him “no Jack no, that is just digging your own grave so” but he would not listen to me, with my insanity of knowing. Jack listen to me now: the end of futile imagining in death, will be a positive effect, and provides to the negative fact of the nightmare that is now. Beware of imagining, with Jill and Jack in example of the terror if. This is the key to all Dreaming. Never act upon imagination, nor believe in: but believe in receiving in your own Dreaming, the conceptual reality from the minds of your friends, relatives, associates and acquaintances. It helps to Dream with a mob is folk are in a small trustworthy knowable unit of relationships, hence Kinship is. In Eurocentric Culture the closest obvious example is a Village Church congregation. Every Mosque also an example of. Perhaps many old city buildings with long term tenants: A Body Corporate? An incorporated Company, with employees. Being in Kinship is the basis upon which class society is ruled. Kinship within your own class, blue collar, or white, wage earner, small business operator, entrepreneur; is such a fact of every day life? Poor tent embassy residents were tricked that whites only have Kinship in Brothels, Tattoo Parlours, occultist societies, and community radio stations. All contexts in which black skin and white skin people happen in extremes of pressure to come together, and the links made there in are well forged, and less and less depending upon actual colour of skin by instead upon status of identification, unbreakable whether white among black or black among white. Political Parties all sure got Kinship of a sort with their amorphous sort of every body is part of one self sort of talks. Yet Religion: whether Islamic real Christian; Jew; Hindi; or Animist; has one up in all these forms. We play by Laws of Nature and God, that scientifically govern how, what and when, and to whom exactingly accurate psychic communication is able take place. Kinship within Law is the usual, and single only social means that adheres to Kahballah, for reducing that which we pay in or to Hell.

Even in death and in living walking dead through Hell, can we provide both positively to the future and negatively to the past? Hell of course being the enduring of pain of dying and rotting into the ground. Every living cell, and bacterial component that is depending upon our physical existence being, experiences and ending in our death, and we experience as pain. Pain returning us to the most basic molecules and atoms with awareness still in, of ash dust with bacteria suspended in rain, Hell is inclusive of pain. But poor poor poor bloody Jack, for his the pain without positive effect. Not even Hell could take Jack. Perhaps we will all and every one Human pass through Hell, since we exist within cults masquerading as culture, in which innocence has been manifestly disbelieved. Rot in Hell the lots of us, until there is no life bearing structure of physical matter that was ever a part of us that is not persuaded to cease from trying to put positive effects into the past and negativise the future in our Hopes and Dreams. There may not be a single snowflake on Earth unaffected by the Human stories that have spawned Jack and the like of, such is that there is Hell.

Meanwhile of hellish consequences positive, I have learned quite a large amount about Nazis. I learn that here in Australia, are skin head drug dealers who sell their knowledge of Aboriginal youth falling to imagining that future causes past. The sins of Aboriginal youth are being sold through drug dealers to the Japanese and from them on to the Buddhists, and Dalai Lama direct, thriving off our children having been trapped into disease. Are the Buddhists the guilty party? Guilty of affiliations aligned with Japanese business interests? Is it the English who are to blame for English affiliated street crime here in Australia, is also affiliated with the methodology of fascism; and English aristocracy with Tibetean Buddhists. I learnt of these things because I learnt that when I stated Aboriginality those who blamed me were blaming in assuming that an Aboriginal identity means to imagine that Dreams made in the future are the cause of every now. But the only evidence I can find of such belief is among those who were entrapped into adopting a slug and leech ridden story; except of course for those dumb Ants, there was not such imagination here in Australia before white men arrived, or was there?

The fact remains that somehow because I stated an Aboriginal identity, I am being misconstrued to have been taking my present life style as positive; folk have assumed that in my future I provide negatively to this self now and imagine such is positive. Have I not yet protested hard enough? A provider of negative truths to the past, yes I am that. Ever in knowledge of the Laws governing, and in adhering to my self accepting, in Dreaming, negative imagining as mine, to enact the discontinuance of. Yet if folk have imagined that an Aboriginal identity is to claim to be providing positively into the past, then no wonder my very life is not being accepted as of factual reality. It is factually real as well that most black skin Aborigines know cause proceeds effect, and only a minority stuffed up on drugs and lust and claiming falsely to be representative, ever imagined different. Could I dare you to believe other than? Do not Human, do not. I will ever insist upon cause preceding effect, and the knowledge of ever having been part of Australia’s Aboriginal and indigenous reality.

The Nazis whom had vast problems with accepting cause and effect, seem to have driven a massive wedge of disbelief in reality across the oceans from Europe to Australia, giving all Asia reason false to blame the Aborigine for having fallen to monsters. Monster falls are of imagining receiving self of life belonging in the future as positive; even at the expense of causing another person’s earlier death, and causing such as though their negative, when it ever must come to pass that future death is a positive for somebody somewhere sometime. Free fall thus to a positive death in hell, gate held only by Devils, their must. In part, because there exists an imaginative concept, that only who is “doing” a deed, is who suffers the negative consequences of; there are many whom enact faults, and imagine being forgiven whilst forcing such from children, only because children will agree to do any impossibility. Yet consider this, if a child notices the error in its ways, and wishes alone to hurt in the pains of ending Forever those ways, a mother still forgives and suffers all the more herself that her child is accepting an adults responsibility. Thus is the debt of hurting for sin surmounting around, while the suffering of the mother is not able to reduce that of a determined child, nor the suffering of the child that of the mother. The lesson the child seeks is of what not to be forgiven for. Those who in actuality Forgive are only enabled by knowing that we who are being Forgiven, ourselves accept our own death as negative of the past and positive to the future of those whom Forgive.

On All Saints Day I will provide. I will provide negative self, to monsters that fly all Halloween scaring children, that I may also provide positively to All Souls in the day after who travel through Hell. Here I provide to the taste of: Nazism envelopes four ignoble truths and an eightfold set of self propelling farts who are inclined toward perverting Buddhism.

There were only seven farts with special Gestapo Jackets who adhered to the story of the “Seven Samurai”, a story also known in an American Movies. Nazis numbered their jacketed pumpkin headed leeches: two for the military distinct from four for the army; five where one was to force us imagine there is no God; three the highest, their own tricks exalted; and one where five was. Every so often they switch how the count it. But a number is a number is a number is a quantity of definition unable to be falsified. Nazi loss of course ever in their own tricks. That is the sequence of farts I used to rid my self of he Jack, Himmler, and general Nazi-mindedness. Nazi mindedness is the phenomenon of being quite an accurate accountant, but in trying to keep all the accounts to one’s own self, their downfall therein. It fits the pattern of the Seven Samurai inimically. Nazis even had an eighth fart: one over Nietzsche divided by Theosophy; now pickled and bottled down there at that tent embassy. The four ignoble Nazi truths were enacted only to cover the Gestapo’s Drug use, and that they enacted to find the most positive futures to steal. Four ignoble truths ever devoid of Buddhism, yet these days seeking alignment with, were: the first to imagine to fault God with the manifestation of living physical flesh and bone, as though they would rather have been rocks when Atlanta fell; the second to imagine theirs exclusively the personal benefit of intelligence in amassing the perceptive capacity of the flesh and blood and bone combined; the third is to seek fruit in using any and every possible argument plausible to persuade any other person to discard and corrupt with disease their own flesh and blood, and bear only the bones, and in utmost extremity; the fourth is their insistence that the only intelligence is to fly, while they themselves are all to afraid of being shown up a feathered to try, and walk steadily into their every victory. Only then to add of Nazi’s that they like best to laugh at slap stick, in the most crude and bawdy forms. Of course the slap all their laughter at and the stick mine. Slappier and subtler Jack made me in figurative discourse, yet also by somewhat too oblique, or so it seems to me any how. As obliqueness of expression is a form of anger so is spilling fury into my provision into Halloween Mythos of Devil worship.

Qur’an my preferred vehicle for, because I know real Devils are all Angels in disguise. Beware of any imposters like Jack, whom seek to entrap by Devil’s method, without exposing to you their own exacting accounting before making an offer to work out yours. Nazis are defined by their Nature, as whom tried to trick the Devil out of Hell. Hell is there to be paid for, and each of us who ever lead anyone there will pay alongside before any benefits earned by can be fulfilled. Method of earning of course was also method of passage to Heaven revealed.

Our own Human worth in Hell will arise of Nazidom’s lesson in Pestilance War, Famine, and Death; Noble truths all.

Yet to you Nazis who wish to disprove my yarning. I have yet ignobility of my own, of future I pay in Accounted for. I can divulge but warn you to heed you to all I earlier reveal. Please believe only that in which your own Dreams are given evidence in and by your physical world.

Many undead hope that evidence exists in sacred teachings that Jesus was a trickster, for they hope no living Holy Man ever to have been crucified and learnt Hell. Jesus is Holy, undead. Jesus is Holy undead, Holy that he took Christ in Him, of forgiving Humanity for bowing to you undead. If you are reading this well undead, and like not, try next then instead of remembering Jesus is, to remember that every Aborigine who is in true Faith, learns that our reparations for Land Tenure stolen, on a planet in which the Indigenous of Ireland, England, Scotland, Wales, of Japan and Germany, of Afghanistan and Turkey have not theirs yet, and stolen Wages and Childhoods and Fatherhoods and Mother’s Love, is payable only by our right first in line along with many others all over the globe, to be like Christ, an in so enacting holding you into your retribution, thus are to become first in line of future positive receipt of Nazi blood, along side every whose Faith is Christian, including most of all very many Moslem. Then I am sure you will decry this of every Aborigine, though you may not of any Moslem. After all us Aborigines are in general not yet wholly informed, of the undead among us selling us to Nazis who had hoped to fund their debts to Humanity in blaming the entirety of World War two upon Aborigines. Is that comforting you, Not I, for if only the innocent go to Hell, then sooner rather then later we could be all stuck in there for all time. Are you frightened enough yet undead, in reading this, that you could only possibly be maintaining breathing by imagining that they have caused a future negative effect! Look out undead! If that done negatively by refuting positive death and your own Hell passage in, you could easily have become imagining providing to the past that forged you, as though a positive in becoming undead. But it is safe undead, only because so long as you know that it is a lie, then you can know also that what the Nazis want most of all is to blame all evil in money upon the Jews. They plan this in knowledge that Karl Marx was a Jew who in fact dictated that Judaic Scripture contains the foundations of the Capitalist economy. Nietzsche wrote of science being a sprout of the seed of original sin, and reality is that Eve only took a greedy bite, but then she kissed Man with it, the worser. In these facts also undead, you might as well in learning how to combat Nazi’s, also just use the Simple trick, of pretending that the gender you are is true; only to cover your own disability, in always acknowledging which matter is only receptive and which active. A kind of opposite to experiential reality; bear you well in Hell with me,
Any remaining doubts in my story get served with a taste of genuine insanity my friend. I know a fellow who is genuinely insane recognisable to himself and everybody around him. The conversation that transpires between us is in general of what type of food is being served for dinner at the Saint Vincent DePaul Society Cheap Eats joint. Yet he confirmed for me that the phenomena I had encountered in Jack, is of an Asian teaching called Iron Shirt. Iron Shirt proponents apparently have a reputation for trying to trick the Devil, by tricking His men, such that the debts owed to the Devil have been getting stolen by persons with Dragon Dreaming, like Jack. The fellow I know told me that he would tell me because he is sick of the way Dragon Iron Shirts treat Dog Clan people. Sick of being forced to take drugs, pushed into to fulfil service of Dragons. Recently his eyes changed and now they are white in the pupil and black in the iris and he won’t talk any more, except to say that all he wants is to get drunk.

I told him that so long as he knows that the past causes the future, he would one day walk free, or words to that effect. But his direct explicit response was that he knows but he is physiologically beyond being able to direct his attention into the self discipline of remembering what was before and what after. Such that almost the only thing he knows is that his entire perception of cause and effect is entirely demented; but he just can’t be bothered noticing any more. Then I turned my head away from him, and I could see in my mind a picture continuing of his face with naturally changing expression, exactly as if he had stayed in my field of vision. I can count on the fingers on one hand the number of times I have experience such vivid pictures in my mind while awake in the day. It was disturbing in that he was clearly demonstrating that he was able to refute the teaching that negative providence of images of self in Dreaming is always to the past. It was as though he had said, this is what they did to my head, how will you cope with it? The fact of the matter of what he displayed to me was simply that of a spirit corrupted such that the spirit is not reconciling and so appears like a self, thus is able to provide Dreaming into the future, instead of only the past. Everybody is in spirit ever looking ahead. So it seems to have befallen me to provide a sacred teaching of how to ever be able to know spirit from self.

The difficulty in the entirety of this story is that there are simply too many people whom are failing to accept the sin of lust is a sin. That is, a cause of death. Jack for example simply could not accept that since I had engaged in a sexual act with him, that I could not there after take further pleasure in engaging in a sexual interaction following inflicting pain upon each other to enable a pleasure rush when the pain is released. Excuse me Jack, but my body is just not like that. Rather die it would that accept pleasure in that which causes death. The very cause only of the undead.

Let me reframe a little again exactly what lust is. It is enforcing sin upon another person by an act that causes another person in their future, be unable to breath with out suffering sinning, caused by the behaviour of those with lust; and then lust also invariably blames that other person for the sin, and thus blames their lust upon those hurt by. There manifests a failure to observe correctly the actual sequences of cause and effect. The most accurate way to depict lust for a healthy conceptualising of, is entirely in the context of death. It is only in such that those raped to lust as physical dysfunction can conceptualise their being; yet in knowing as death they can. They can know their observances are incorrect and in such assume never to be certain, at least not without a trustworthy corroboration source of every part of their know how. Yet lust prevents from knowing who can be trusted. At the point of a healthy orgasm self is received from the future and can provide for living, while at the point of any amount of lust there self dumps upon another persons past, and steals of their Love in Spirit to enable pleasure, thus is by definition existing only by failing to recognise it is causing death. Take that fact in this: the more failure there is to recognise fault in causing death, the more obvious it becomes that those with lust are at fault. This is the lesson of the Holocaust. We all exist in Allah ever accountable.

When a person dies innocent, their death provides positively into the future for their continued existence, whether as a new born baby, in Heaven, or in Hell. In this time there are ever folk innocent whom are choosing Hell, so as to work with the material of. For in Earth’s existence by accident Hell is that where Heaven can reconcile our life: this is long known of those undead we befriend, but is fact for all of us, that every death is the passage through Hell, and only when we learn to remain in totality awake there, can we learn to Reconcile our life with God, by reconciling Heaven with Hell. For some of us it is brief and for others long, for some it is harsh and for others moderate. This will depend neither upon the extent each of our sin alone, for was ever it fact of our existence that some individuals were more enabled by God to accept Hell, thus teach its lessons for others in showing the way to. Beware ever of. We have learned to develop will to accommodate the frights of Hell while well, so as to guide others there. Some persons overly fear having committed more sins than is accountable to pay reparatively for by the single death of their one physical body. The lesson of those of us who accept life in animal form by will alone, it simply that there is no cause to fear anything except the death of the physical body. While Aborigines can relate that life in animal is a life of discomfort, not one among us would ever wish to change that past, or its constant repeat. Whether a life as an animal is by choice or by needing to be brought to awareness of fault, death and afterlife, in what ever form they are then existing, provide energy of a positive quality into the future, and energy of a negative quality into the past, all for the entire length of the duration which it takes for cumulative effect to form of the positive, such that positive and negative can re-reconcile. Be careful here though in pondering upon such matters since if you are a woman, what is a positive effect in life is a negative effect in death, and negative in death a positive in life. Such it is that women must ever be subservient to Men’s more accurate understanding of the cycle of life. Take your every aim being at all times to provide positively into the future to every person whom our sins of the flesh ever hurt, and in this a woman is helpless to herself, proving her need for a Husband. When not in hell, and on Earth alive, women serving Husbands while Men contemplate Heaven, by anticipating Hell of what ever degree is beneficial, which is the degree to which anticipation causes no slackening of muscles, are we not working then towards a positive future by minding our worldly matters towards? Every account in this regard is cumulative and this is the meaning of Karma, and there are four types of Karma, of Soul, Spirit, Feeling and the denser matter of a physical body. Many folk in acknowledging Karma fear lust only because it can cause a future of life as cats and dogs, (Spiders and Snakes? emus and roos? Trees rocks and streams of bacterial life, our Earth is alive); the true fear is that lust harms other beings life. This is a key to Aboriginality, what I am, being my identity is of the world I experience and identify with, mine being of every Kangaroo I see, and I suppose one day to accept that I identified also with this computer, but can not accurately fear as yet, for now such is only an acknowledgement. I have used a computer, and even sent my own children e-mails within the web structure of electricity grids. E-mails to my children such as that I must identify with, but while it is plausible to anticipate I will accept Hell for the eventual positive effect; (Will I shift shape into a computers energy field?) surely is it not better to be now and ever working to reduce electricity consumption? I surely minimise my use of, because of healthy fear of death. Fear only death, and know death, your future death, is inevitably negative to the very moments of enacting lust, such that what you perceive during acts of lust can only be death. Also let it be said that we need not be at the point of undead to have been made ill by lust. Strictly defined any amount of being unable to separate the colours in your Dreaming into pure red blue and yellow, is an function of the diseases of lust. If you perceive lust as any other than death, then yours is the sin of enforcing abuse of children’s perceptions of cause and effect. When lust is enacted it gives a false perception of advantage in learning of, and stealing, another person’s positive future, but in reality that other person is learning of the death of the person with lust, and may rightfully take advantage of.

When a person who dies innocently, or well relatively, such that every sin is readily paid for during the immediate days of the dying body and of the few days after, and in that state they choose to accept paying the costs of Hell or life in animal or plant form, not in Forgiving another person, but in learning what it is that other Human beings are afraid to endure. As well as specific future benefits, there is a negative providence into the past, that is given from the time when those benefits begin to become apparent, and is of force the means by which such a person is held into their specific chosen hell. When any of us act such that we Dream our own death, we can be certain of a true outcome and can use that certainty to work now towards a positive outcome for whom was hurt, rather than in lust blaming our death upon them. It is because in death we always release a negative force to our own self, that death can be dreamed ahead thus known. It may not be known in time when, but the fact of will always be able to be known. As I related, if not by your own person, than by another, whose task it becomes to hold you to your death with theirs, for such could be their only means of redeeming debt, thus willing. I have in fact Dreamed of being a field of wheat, but was it a computer generated image, I know not, yet acknowledge that by having experienced an identification with, and taking now as positive effect for my self in this writing, that there is no escape from the events that will cause. Yet I fear such not with my physical body, and recognise that the pain my body fears is only that of physical death. In Spirit the fear is of failing to accept my own debt in suffering to Heaven, and in Redemption we will all know fear accurately. Temperance of Spirit is the golden self of understanding the price of life. Those who once were undead and have found redemption are ever to be counted upon for their temperance is strong. Perhaps it can be held that if we combine our understanding of Aboriginality with an acceptance that we can survive by living only upon Alms, and our every Labour for God, the Redemption is simply a matter of being.

Who among life upon Earth can reconcile to this concept, a higher thought to the matter of death, and one my cause is to inform Men of having received from the Arch Angel Gabriel: the paid in death is only the function of actualising existing in the exact moment of now as a being accountable alone to God; Elohim Allah, at what point is being in total; Have Faith in Forgiveness Forever in acknowledging the entirety of all flows of positive and negative substances being precise to each moment can only be in measure able by an Arch Angel. While in life I am reconciling that I, in Spirit, am ahead of this moment receiving self from future, while excess of self passes through me, and is discharged of me into the past; and by knowing this I know I am existing either side of now, only to maintain existing in less pain that is actual for reconciling to my own future evolutionary potential in. It is that each of us have an evolutionary potential within which we can be enabled by first of all knowing exactly what of us is self and distinguishing from Soul and Spirit and feeling and behaviour of physical body, and to achieve that knowing and in that knowing, place our every effort expended to the maximum possible extent towards focusing attention upon the single moment in time of here now. As I write and focus my mind closer to these exact moments my body hurts a little, and in positive effect for Allah. Accept your self as a bubble of protection from not being able to account for every cause and effect of your existence, a bubble of protection within which we are able to contemplate such matters as evolution.

Now think about death from the point of view of life. Sex without any lust and for making a baby is ever obviously of positive contribution to the future. Also of active absorption of negative by the mother, and reception of positive by the Father. Yet if lust is present, the future is all too readily mistaken for the past, thus the innocent seem guilty, and it is all too easy to blame upon them the act of taking pleasures unearned; being an act in fact of positive movement towards death and needing to be accepted as. Thus in lust blame no body but accept your own death, for lust is the sole means of every undead. Know lust as death in every aspect and have a chance in Hell of knowing yourself. Then may you cognise the reality of positive transformation through Hell. Blessing told.

Here is another matter that I have noticed being mistreated by Nazi influences in mainstream culture. The Elements are five, beware of Nazi style occultists preferring four. While there is a place for four elements, therein is that it is death. The wood element is the element in which the self readily knows it is only self, and thus acceptance of death is always wooden. Hatha Yoga teachings include exercises for differentiating five different forms of mental processing, each equating to an element in the most fundamental form of Human mental processes; and each taught separately to learn to practise each in total awareness, thus prepare the functional ability for simultaneous functioning with the sound vibration Ohm. This is Ohm that I am teaching. My awareness that I have verified with a Man who learnt first hand from Jesus, is that teaching the self of Ohm is Jesus intention for every one of us, and that such teaching was interrupted by Him because He became aware of there being an insidiously fraught and ill conceived notion of cause and effect in backwards order that is being enforce upon people unwillingly in this time we now live in, thus Ohm can be taught in the situation of correcting such abuse of the mentality. Always take cause preceding effect, and include in that the sequences in which and concept travels through your own mind. Thus know that in judging any other person observance of behavioural sequence alone is never enough, for many men can adhere to the same behavioural sequences with many variously different sequences of mental patterns occurring. Yet also, observance of behavioural sequence relation to what is passing through our mind during, is the key by which we will all be judged. Beware of Nazis abuse in including along with elements of Fire, Earth, Water, and Air, a polemic upon death that enables lust in corrupting wood. They place only four elements in a circle then in the centre place self-awareness versus self-determination, in an old Dragon trick of developing determination to hate. I saw this being taught in a context of workshops for Aboriginal children being run by some Aboriginal people and some white people whose uniform appearance was aligned with the imagery used by the sections of organised crime that are affiliated with Nazis. Self-determination in terms of participating in government processes and imposing Aboriginal societies decisions about what the money for Aboriginal Health is spent upon is usually taken to mean some other thing. But in the context of opposing self-determination with self awareness replacing the wood element, it is a dangerous use of words. The Chinese system that has been popularised to enable money, and lists elements five as: Fire; Earth; Metal; Water; Wood, is inaccurate in the single descriptions of only half of the flows. In excluding air it is perverting the accurate understanding of difference between Soul and self; in excluding half the sets of possible flows it limits our conception of our potential; yet also in China, are there true Religious Mystics and Holy Scriptures that relate the true teaching in full. However because of the extensive wrongful use of pictures of elements drawn in a pentacle in a circle, it is now difficult to use such picture beneficially. Yet it is the picture I will teach Ohm with. Some folk have proved able to manage the Ohm teaching in an appearance, a visual depiction, and in the wood element alone depicting what is possible for all elements, they it is assisted by the providence of others more able that they can. Such efforts can be of providence negative that transforms to positive when more efforts are made to retain the exact teaching for the future.

The truth of Ohm is ever of all five elements providing to Earth and Heaven, and all those spaces that sustain our Human existence. When elements are four they are Fire, Water, Wood, and Air, all in death providing to Heaven and Earth, such as Hell is of fact only full awareness of every element simultaneously whilst in Death. There is the key to knowing I will relate, remembering that while the idea of such experience can be frightening, it is also immensely relieving to live through death in such efforts focused. Concentrating the experience upon the most useful outcomes.
The key to this teaching I must write with and apology from my self, and all those who prevented my self from adequate recall before now of the accurate teaching, while my understanding of this subject is immutable, I have been lead astray before now in attempts to relate in be the very many inaccurate renditions of this teaching that have been put about the world by those who pursue making money by causing death in those who mistake this teaching. It is a teaching that can only begin with the feminine, dark, or negative qualities of matter, and is about the correct manner in which different substances transform, transmute, or are transposed from one to the next. I my self have a large degree of anger with young Raymond Hickling, for having commited to I, while simultaneously falling into imagining lies about me to the extent that while he Dreams of me every day and night, he knows not who I am. Yet that the Levithan raped He as Behemoth I, take into account. Is it punishment to him that I tell of His death in me, or that I do not? My answer is knowing Love will find Him eventually forming his own will to never need again be held to account by any woman; I Love my sons to accept their own being and any faults of in Allah; to accept in simultaneous effort to Labour motivated by fear of Will for Hell; thus to know living wanting only to work. Might I suggest that any person at all is able when they eat, to form Prayer in gratitude for their food, or even only wish upon their food, that the food they consume will cause in their metabolism acceptance of the ultimate death of the body physical being a decomposition of whatever are those faults we least well bear. I wish that the first part of my own body to die is that part that resists death.

Before defining the elements in Ohm vibration I will tell that this is the teaching definitively proving that it is impossible for persons in whom the active and the passive, or receptive parts of matter are confused to conceptualise this teaching accurately, in fact this teaching can cause them, and any undead, to conceive of time travelling backwards instead if they work to understand only by theft instead of through Hell. It is women’s to conceptualise the silent suffrage of Men asleep trapped in miscomprehensions of the qualities of matter, that lead to the backwards perceiving of cause and effect; let them not want parenthood and rape; teach what they can happily least harmfully hate. Even hating elderly women and young pregnant mothers is preferable to making babies that can only be hated by their mothers, for such is what happens when the undead conceive, and when activity is confused with passive reception. Women can watch the lessons of the undead in taking them as friends whom can teach us with their asleep Soul in their movements; their postures showing their understanding of what has befallen them, such as that others are better able to be wary of. Ironically the undead can teach women who know better than to trust them, what we are capable of, and what of our being was not working hard enough for Men that undead ever at all became into existence. Is it not punishment enough for them that they are, and know they can not continue as they are. Understand that their being is never able to balance the postive and negative forces of life, not being able to reconcile activity with passive receptivity accurately is the same as being unable to perceive when efforts are causing negative outcomes; thus the ultimate fall of the undead is in an immense positive providence for God’s Will be done at Earth. My message here is two fold, first that the undead are tortured by this teaching that all who access it must be made aware of. It is given to prevent them from raping for it, because they have too long attempted such as means of access the mental pattern with Ohm vibration, yet in raping to acquire they have damaged, and in that damage were Levithan and Behemoth caused. Second my message is resolute. Women have the responsibility to ensure absolute that men are not tempted into sexual liaisons with the undead. While such can hurt women, it bears not upon the extent to which men have been hurt, and all rapes can only stop when no Man is being raped.

Make a five pointed star with a point at the top. Place Fire at the top point. I will describe these arrangements as though you are perceiving in another Living Human being rather than in your own life, that you can then work to centre your own self and being by identifying with. The flow in an anti- clockwise direction is the negative movement of flow, that while such is a difficult starting place is the only starting place to conceptualise Ohm vibration in full. With fire at the top of the five pointed star, a pentacle, follow the lines through the star in an anti-clockwise direction to wood at the lower left side point, then follow anti-clockwise to Earth at the upper right side point, then across anti-clockwise to air at the upper left side point, then to water, at the lower right side point, then to the top again fire. This is the first set of transpositions. Remember that the picture is only a flat representation, yet the transpositions drawn in a pentacle within a circle accurately depict all possible movements. The negative movement in this anti-clockwise pentacle, is of the Soul of a Woman when she is angry, and also of the self of a Man in anger. It is essential to this teaching to be able to know that while Men are of positive energy of Soul, and negative of self, Women are positive of self and negative of soul. Without conceptualising this, the teaching is impossible, and can only be ever known or experienced in half measure. Now the flow in the clockwise direction in the pentacle of a Man’s Soul angry, or the self of a woman angry, is from Fire, to Water, Water to Air, Air to Earth, Earth to Wood, and Wood to Fire. The flow of a Man’s Soul, or a woman’s self at Peace, is Fire to Earth, Earth to Water, Water to Wood, Wood to Air, and Air to Fire. The flow of a Woman’s Soul or her Husband’s self in Peace, is Fire to Air, Air to Wood, Wood to Water, Water to Earth, and Earth to Fire. Understand in this teaching negative expression of anger is that which must be withheld under internal compression, and is ever the starting point. This is a teaching by which we can be certain that the conditions of our lives, no matter how much depravity, are those exact conditions we need to enable our recovery redemption and everlasting life, as all the world’s Religions are in unison in prophesy of. From negative expression of anger movement is to positive expression of anger, then to positive expressions without in harmony providing for Men’s evolution, then negative harmony of women’s evolution. Thus it can be perceived that from a female principal Men find that they need, and only then are able to provide for woman’s need. Also that while women are at the beginning, in withheld anger of Soul, women without providing to Men from are entirely incapable of the fulfilling of the total pattern, that is the pattern of life. The teaching equates also with teachings from Arab countries of Wave and Particle. For a woman, the total pattern of Ohm vibration is perceived as the elements travelling simultaneously in both directions of a circle, and within that simultaneously in both directions of the pentacle, such that there is constant flow in circular waves or negative into positive and back into negative: but for a Man, the total pattern of Ohm vibration is perceived in particle form. I must add that as a woman knowing this is the case is a matter of pure terror. Men of positive energy of Soul, and negative of self, are conceptually able to perceive in these flows each element distinct, with each of its transpositions distinct. Each element potentially moving to any of the other four, as well as ever in motion to the negative from the positive. The substance that a female body creates self with can only look into the future, thus is ever working towards. While Men perceive the positive flow into the future with Spirit, and simultaneously the negative flow from the future into the past is what a male body is created to form particles of self with.

Why this teaching is part of a story about the undead and the horrors of rape and war is however another matter. The fact is that the undead are many of entrapped in to perversity of perception in which they imagine they are the finders of some great universal secret of which the rest of us know nothing, often have the undead taunted me by teasing with their ability to put their minds into the past and disrupt other persons lives thus. Yet they are only ever able to by stealing from I and those like I, such that they only cause themselves to seem all the more the fools. Nazism was the height of this, and it is long past overdue that all Humanity accepts that at its height such perversity was proven a failure. This is the totality of the context of the words I write, be it that in places my words will tempt undead Nazi sympathizers to imagine alternately of me. Let them, for I will their end in me. Yet now also, that I have typed these words, beware of for Nazism could steal, merely words. Undead must simply bear in mind that those of us whom are totally alive, or in acceptance of every moment of loss of life to our own sufferage, can always be in constant mind that the time in which our mental energy drifts to is not this right now time. It is not a prohibiting factor from this understanding that culture is such as to lock out any comprehension of being able to make any impact upon the past by putting our mind to, when we put our mind to the past is it not simply that somebody in the past notices, and if it is only yourself, why then when you act you are causing that now your mind it to then. Any other conception of causation is Lawless, and I know that enforcing such conceptions upon Aborigine children has been done and will be retributed. The Laws of Nature abound in these matters and inevitable is that the past catches up with you now never the future. There will be no love lost in these matters.

Understandably persons adept at such transformations of the matter of all our Dreams are sought after. Ever is the only purpose of this teaching of transforming flows of matter to pressurise all the existing flows of energy into experiencing Greater, the Sorrow of God; so accepting we may act to remember Love. Ever eternally eventually within us must all these flows of matter equate. Being long without constant transitions occurring between all four flows, and the fifth between all of the different flows, equates, undead, to long in Hell learning. I received a Dream regarding my communications about my conceptualisation of Hell from an Aboriginal Christian Baptist congregation, that was simply five to the power of two, then a decimal point five: five squared point five. If you can cognise that key and apply it in Ohm understanding to the Torah teaching in which God directed we will all experience death seven times our sin, then seventy fold times seven, then you have cognised it, the necessary requirement of being. Men’s key enables in noticing that every individual element has four transitions to another element that every work for every transition to be occurring in equal balance between the being of other life forms around us; the being of Hell, the being of Heaven; and our own being as Life on Earth thus enabled. When you are able meet with me in the Valley of the Dead to this teaching, where we will shake hands and agree, let us never let any Jack steer us away from the Devil again. This teaching is His in Jesus. Ohm.

P.S. It was in fact the Gestapo who trialled among themselves the habit from Middle East of genital ablutions then spread falsehood about regarding all Moslim people. Such practise, being merely the regular rinsing of genitalia in cold water to assist the mind to focus upon subject matter other than the genitalia, the Gestapo found among themselves to be painful and thereby determined that any such practise must be sadist to enforce. Yet because the practise is most definitively only painful to genitals infected with Sexually Transmitted Diseases that are the product of lust, and is also a method of preventing such diseases, it becomes clear that the Gestapo were in pain because of their internally permissive attitudes to inflicting pain upon their own and each others bodies for sexual pleasure, thus they became the definition of lust in calling the dead bodies of Jews “Moslems” as they were throw into the fires, while Gestapo took sexual, and other substance dependence pleasures from. The genital ablution is performed precisely to cause less desire at lust. When the practise is habituated in childhood, it leads to instilled decency of all sexual conduct. Islam may rightfully hold every who fell to the Nazi falsification of their genital ablution requirement for Prayer as a violation of my own children’s and every Moslem person’s Human right to Love. Meanwhile the fact that genital ablutions alone were not enough to cause the removal of my children, and the court lent upon the fact that I state an Aboriginal identity to discriminate further against me, is a matter for the conscience of all Aborigines who have suffered similarly to the Jews. Yet the attempted genocide of Aborigines was over a much prolonged period by comparison, and therefore the requirement to behave as though colluding so as to survive to tell the tale, has been also prolonged to the detriment of every Aborigine. Among Aboriginal communities are those who chose to blame my self for the Gestapo’s faulted take upon Islam, thus refused to accept supporting my Family Court Case for my children’s best interests. Black skin Aborigines were blaming my self and through me all white skin Aborigines for paedophilia, thus falling to Nazis, and white skin Aborigines were blaming my self and all black skin Aborigines for paedophilia, thus falling to Nazis. While Moslems blamed me rightfully for having exposed their genital ablution to the attention of Nazis, who then caused that every person blame Moslems for paedophilia. Islam wins. My court case was damaged by Jack confusing me at a crucial time. The children are now at risk thereby of becoming wards of the state, unless my motherhood is defended. This is an adults only production. I fight to win in court no longer for a victory against government policy of removing children, but for a victory of sanity against the insanity of Nazi dictated court processes and procedures, that determined that winning in court is a matter only of paying to look good. The removal of my children is the single factor that motivated me to catch the means by which the entire legal system was corrupted during the Holocaust.

The stickiest Theological question that arises in the contemplation of the matter of why it has come to pass that there are persons whose Soul has separated from their body occurring amongst many who have come into connection with facts relating to these matters, yet that none of such are the three former Nazi Leaders whom have been located, nor are they of the other subset of individuals which has one in common with the three located, and together with The Evil One, compromise the four beasts in the water of long term prophesy. My preferential view is that there is a set of knowable facts that only a limited select group of the population are able to acknowledge without becoming insane and potentially violent. A set of facts that those who feel like violence defined when in knowledge of go to extraordinary lengths to disprove such that they only ever prove. A set of facts that the imposition of upon the wrong people by those enabled to channel such facts for the progenitors of stories such as this, can cause becoming attuned to a level of reality in which their existence can only be accepted as hell, and in such they reject evidence they are faced with in preference for lies, because the idea of hell existing is really rather unpleasant, that it is often left better not spoken to.
To quote from the an English T-Shirt promoting BBC programming:

NAZIS ARE SMEGHEADS

The End.

Her:
Less on
In drugging on:
At Hit.
Also known as: Her on Hit.
Also known as: Hit ‘er what?

That is to say, these words here are about, the lessons which drug users need, to prevent them forcing every body else's feelings to bleed, by their shirks and accusations, bound in the refrain "Hit on her again", (yet to the pain, refrain.)

Hallameny, are you a what?
Why you are hitting at I again?

Hitting hammering up all my water and imagining my “H”’s are all gone to yourses,

Is a lesson of less on at:
Do you know the following facts?

There is no substance of Earth
that is able to be ingested, consumed, imbued, inhaled or injected,
and even breathed in or sighted
beyond the single mouthful a day enough to not be existing at starvation,
that is not costing somebody at Earth something to wear.

Yet while we are yet unable each to bear the entirety of all we imbue, with God only is the full debt counted such that any of us ever knew.

Here, rather than tempting any drug using persons to blame me mentioning their own internal mentality of addiction, I will describe a far less guilt ridden habit which inhabits the same pattern when we let it. So you drug users accessing these words, whom have blamed my own self wrongly for your drug use, just mind that I recognise, and can access full accounts as necessary, only if need be, and every through God. In sha Allah, yours might be one that has been fed me.

When I eat more than enough bread,
and I am able by health of body with good posture and good mindful manner,
and enough knowledge to ensure the balance of my respiratory and digestive systems is good,
and I Labour only for God, (thereby for my own cause, my children, and my Husband)
then, and only then,
am I able to transform that too much bread I ate
into substances that are gold,
and are enabling you to continue hitting upon me without killing me,
but might already have killed my reputation.

Thus if you seek to fault me for greed when I eat, blessed be that all you can receive now is that level to which I have fallen into ill repute.
For down here even the gold you seek is now with me in this.
And I have named Rumplestiltskin and learned his trade,
that never more will you hit on my sons for your pay.

But let me continue here with my example for you,
all the while knowing that I can follow you in time while keeping count of mine,
even if it was heroin you have used.

When I eat more than enough bread, and I am not able to transform the matters produced by my digestive system, into a pattern of truth. Then, either I get sick, at any more than a single slice per day, or else somebody is forgiving I. Otherwise the only way to avoid immediate kidney, liver, and stomache pain, is for to be "hitting on" anybody and everybody else, but especially children. Most of us try thus to resort to the same faults as drug users, in seeking anybody to blame for over consumption as the over consumption of others exuses our own. That I will not.

Thus I work and I labour in the terror that while everybody else causes children to feel blamed, only for what we feed them, my own children could by accident imagine I might blame their own lives, since that is what many children hold in common with one another, and against their superiors and thus against the authority that can teach to know better; but when in reality I know in every moment that my children are entirety innocent. I also know that my children are being encouraged to suppose that I might be blaming them, and that whom encourages them are who is really blaming both their own will to live, and mine.

This much knowledge only from wheat and water and rising agent.

There are other substances that when entering the physical body are not needful of the person to be in knowledge of how to transform the substance into a Heavenly pattern, because there is within the plant already such a pattern. Opium, that unlocks Tabacco, that unlocks Cannabis, that unlocks Caffiene, that unlocks Mushrooms, that unlock Opium, each manifesting a pattern of heaven, which exists only so as to enable those whom have truly earned the right to access.

Here know that, I am able, by my knowledge of your hitting upon I or a body I Love, to unlock your mind and open it to my own, while your are using heroin, because I can Labour to God’s Will, for every particle of pleasure ever I receive.

Some substances, and there are many that can be opened into a Heavenly pattern by Labour exerted upon the substance, contain either a memory of Heavenly patterns and/or the wrong Heavenly pattern which is making disease. These patterns can be sourced and retained in substances such as alcohol and sugar, yet even only in water.

There is one way only to access these for healing and health, by the conscience and at full account for every ounce of pleasure ever experienced.

You need never again use an illicit substance, nor want to pursue the innocence of children only to be able to avoid the pain of detoxification. That is fact, and you can prove it, thus are wrong not to.

Substances that cause an unlocking of Heavenly patterns in your body, when you are not able as I am, to recognise who you are hitting upon and who upon you, can be used for law abiding (within Kabbalah) purposes by two methods. One to enable recovery of any debt of another’s pleasure at your expense, when that pleasure was stolen from what you have earned, and without your willingness; but only so long as your own receipt of pleasure is accounted in full. Two to enable your self to observe your weakness to pleasure while awake to the terror of the situation, thus cause you to labour harder to alter your habits. This second is the homeopathy principal of “like cures do like”. That is accessed by Aborigines, who are also the Magi, through Bhyame’s initiation.

Become an animal to cure doing like an.

Some Aborigines might at times have claimed to be pre-paid in a game, (paid in advance for sinning, that is: but never for the sins of others, always only our own, and when others try to let our payments to Allah in advance, pay for their own sins, we have truly caught them, in which they will pay along with us, as we pay in advance again, and they pay their arrears), and thus less needful of perfect behaviour, but that well runs dry when ever upon it we rely. There is no substitute for physical Labour within the will of Allah. The secret of life is no more or less than to know that your real will is always to work.

Consider this you drug user who has been perchance hitting on I.
Are you able to calculate during the rush, or any exhilaration, exactly how much of the pleasure from some other body’s labour you received? How much were you owed? How hard was your labouring as yet unpaid, and did you use up all of it in a single hit of heroin? Or drink of wine, or smoko, or extra piece of chocolate?

Who are you blaming whenever you purchase a small plastic something that is not being accounted for at every single cost to the environment and Human capacity to Labour?

Either you are being Forgiven, or are accounting for your life by deeds already commended to God, or are accounting your behaviour as your own death cause, or you are blaming. Who do you blame? and why are they at fault and you not, and is it ever, was it ever, could it ever have been real, to blame? For when those whom are blamed wake up to that you caused their behaviour which you then blamed, hell be you.

Considering I have caught many drug addicts at blaming I, and/or those I Love, You can assume that this myself I am providing of by my writing, is only for you never to forget your expense owed to the Earth, to Allah and through Allah being paid to the Earth; and it will be that expense owed in which your body becomes adhesive to the wrongs which you do. This will be because it is by Law in Sacred Burnt Offering, made that never more can you get away with blaming children who I can protect.

These words are in that very exhilaration you lusted for when you used, and that I will prevent from ever being at my own children’s expense. Fairly warning you am I, that since I now may protect my own children, there are other Mothers who will be learning.

Remember this:

There is no pleasure in the entire Universe not obtained by the Labour of a Soul in existing being for God. That meaning if it was not you who worked to earn of the pleasure you experienced, then it is you who are in debt. My own Labour to the Lord’s Prayer that God’s Will be done on Earth as in Heaven protect I. I Will.

This is a presentiment of future for all Humanity. It will be.

Take unto yourself of this protection repeating for it I can expend that you will be also decreasing the drug using.

Let us include in defining a drug, the money.

Not one cent or dime or penny, has ever been found to survive without.

Babylon's Behemoth no longer blaming her horror

Thursday, March 6, 2008

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Monday, July 2, 2007

the copyright as of June 30 2007, an update

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Babylon Recovers Well: My own "Heart of Darkness"

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