Just a Girl Lost 2

Just a girl lost~ Here I share bits & pieces of me, in poetry, prose, music & posts from writers who inspire me.


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Dog Days are Done by Florence and the Machine

#1.  This is a GREAT SONG!!!  It’s by Florence and the Machine.  I heard it while driving. 

That’s the only way I hear ‘new’ music nowadays

#2.  Weird, when I was a teenager,

I used to be the one who found stuff before anyone else, well,  a few elses.

It’s hard ‘growing up’.  Meaning, I can’t sit and listen to music all day.

It’s hard growing up, meaning,

I’m not really grown up, just in a different dimension.

Make sense?

THIS SONG kinda sums it up.

As I was listening to it I was thinking,

Damn them, for being so happy, not fair.

I wonder what it feels like?

And then I thought, what if I could make myself

and those around me happy?

I thought, what if I could decide to be happy?

and make this song come true?

What a dream, a beautiful, wonderful, perfect dream of HAPPY!!!

I hope you love it as much as I do.

@justagirllost

 

 

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The Blue Dream

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I promised I would write my dreams,

since I’m not inspired right now to write anything

about Love or Life or Living.

I have been dreaming lately and that is a rarity.

I mean that i am ‘remembering’ my dreams.

I know that we all dream, blah, blah, blah.

I just lately have had some memorable dreams

as in BRIGH COLORS

and STRANGE SITUATIONS.

In this dream, I’ll call it ‘The Blue Dream’, I am in a HUGE, MASSIVE, meandering house.

This huge house is apparently being ‘given’ to me and my children.

(my children’s ages vary and morph as the dream progresses)

In the process of moving in, the former tenants have left a LOT OF STUFF, weird stuff and the former tenants (picture The Brady Bunch times 10) the Brady Bunch are ‘helping’ me clean-up.

As they help me clean up they are also finding things they had forgotten and are happily taking them home.

This house is HUGE and one room has a red puppet theater and a white baby bed and lots of baby toys just lying around.

It’s night and the room is bluish in hue with lights dancing off the walls.

There are people pulling wallpaper off, sawing, hammering, nailing, taking paneling off, putting things in bags.

We move on into the kitchen.  The kitchen is a jumble of carpentry, hardware, sawdust, no table or anything, just a weird metallic, greenish, harsh, undone, uninviting mess.

There’s white stuff everywhere.

Like, that white stuff on walls and ceilings, crumbly and powdery white.

There’s drawers lying on the floor filled with CRAP.

You know, that junk drawer you just throw little pieces of crap into.  There are drawers scattered and tossed and filled with utensils and forks, knives, spoons, corn-cob holders, different colored rubber bands, tacks, tacks, tacks, little nails and all the little things you need to stick things to the wall.  BORING.

I march/slither/slide upstairs, downstairs, all around, seeing rooms with bunk beds, seeing into bathrooms with clothes hanging everywhere and toothbrushes, toothpaste, pictures, children’s paintings, all sorts of things just everywhere.  Stuff left behind, not worthy of keeping, but the Brady’s were realizing that there was some pretty cool stuff they’d left behind and so as I’m seeing into these rooms, I’m seeing the Brady’s picking up, sorting thru, laughing about, holding onto all this stuff they had forgotten about.  They’re finding treasure as I’m tearing down to move in and it’s a chaotic mess.  NOISE and MESS and NOISE and ripping and tearing and running thru the house.

I turn and step into an elevator.  It’s a brown elevator.  Wood with scratches in it.  I step in hesitantly, I know I’m going down, I know I have to get in, but also I decide in this dream that I am NOT going to be stuck in this elevator.  (I am SO CLAUSTROPHOBIC. As a child I wasn’t in the least, but as an adult, I am)

Suddenly, I come to a STOP.  I’m at a dead end.  No where to go forward. I step out of the elevator and am a bit relived because my lucid dreaming worked!

A cul-de-sac in the hallway.  I’m standing in a hallway.  I look to my right and I see sitting on a wooden crate a blond girl, about 5 or 6, wearing yellow shorts and top.  She has pigtails and is just sitting quietly, solemnly on the crate in the cul-de-sac staring at me. Not moving, just staring at me.

I need the bathroom.

I turn suddenly and look straight ahead.  I’m looking in a mirror.  I’m in a bathroom.

I’m standing in a narrow, white enamel on the wall, white sink, light bulb hanging down with a pull string, bathroom.

I look in the mirror and I’m COMPLETELY BLUE.  I’m covered in blue.  Painted blue.  A cobalt blue.  My hair is a mess, all frizzy and sticking out and BLUE.  My skin is blue.  My gown is blue.  My feet are blue!  I look at the girl and feel confusion, I know I have to keep going.  I look down the hallway.

I hear people laughing and I know there is a party going on.

I turn and find some stairs.

I go down these dingy, dark stairs.  The whole house is falling apart/being redone.  It’s got a 70’s vibe. The party room.  Paneling, blue and green furniture, not too well lit.  It’s dim, like a dying sun yellow.

It’s a party and everyone is happy and laughing and talking, but the colors and smell and feeling all say dank, dark, slime, oppressive.

I step into the room and see everyone dressed in groovy polyester pantsuits and dresses, chunky shoes and puffy hair.  I see our neighbor from across the street.  Miss Bea.

She and her husband, Mr. Andy, were my second parents.  They had 4 kids, the youngest girl was a year younger than me and my best friend, my sister almost.  We spent everyday together. Our mom’s would drink coffee and talk and we would play.  We practically lived together. 

Miss Bea.

She looks beautiful.

She’s smiling and laughing, wearing a lovely dress and she’s young.

I’m surprised to see her there because she’s dead.

She tells me that she’s with her daughter.

Her first pregnancy was a miscarriage, they named her Susan, and I’d always felt a sadness from her when she thought about Susan.  I loved Miss Bea.  She was very quiet, tiny.  Didn’t drive a car.  Her husband drove her everywhere. 

Miss Bea, my sweet, mysterious, very kind, never raised her voice, LOVED romance novels, smoked like a chimney, my mom’s best friend, my second mom was telling me she was happy and with her daughter. 

I was uncomfortable the whole time, of course, I’m in disarray.  My hair is a mess and I’m covered in blue! I turned to look around …

I woke up.

That’s it.

That’s my Blue Dream.

 

*image, Death and the Mirror, James Christensen

@justagirllost2

 

 

 


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When a Lifetime of Reality isn’t Real, then what…

I was perusing my drafts tonight, looking for some snarky poetry for a friend, and I came across this. 

I know I wrote this.  The strange thing is that I don’t remember writing it.  I usually remember everything I write because I only write when my emotions are all emotional.  I’m either up, up, up or low, low, low.  I’m not an inbetween writer.  I wrote the title, When a Lifetime of Reality isn’t Real, then what… 

So, as I’m reading this, I’m thinking, “What was I going thru?  dealing with?”  It must have been something epic because like I said, I only write when compelled to do so, as in COMPELLED.  hmmmmm… I’m seriously curious.  I don’t believe in split personalities, yet it feels like someone else wrote this. curiouser and curiouser

Lately, I haven’t felt much like writing.  I’ve been dreaming a lot though.  A LOT. 

Maybe I should just write my dreams when I’m uninspired.  Huh, LIGHT BULB MOMENT!!!  lol   

I will be doing that. I’ll start writing my dreams on here.  Starting tomorrow!

Until then, I’ll leave you with my mysterious missive from last March.

Peace and Love to you all, even the haters (as our Marvelous President Donald Trump likes to say)  😉

Niki

 

 

 

what am I supposed to feel?

Numb  Stunned  Shocked  Disbelieving

Disillusioned   Duped  Distraught

Anger  Rage in Dreams Betrayed  Pain holds sway, a dirge to play, fast fading, Faith torn stripped tattered sways fast against Mind, Flesh & Bone.   Pain, like a Hawk, Claws Sink Deep Beneath Bone & Flesh, Spellbound Screaming Mind Blown Feeling Bits & Pieces Flowing Fleeing Gently Bleeding every Poisonous Drop of Pain.

No more crying in the rain.  No more Fantasy Falling to the Pain

Washed Up Brain Dead  Soul  Fucked  Back Run

Unfind

Rewind  Ahead my Steps No Turning Back  Time’s  Destined Path to Find  Life  

Unbound Unblind to Truth  this Life Unblind I find  Heart  I See  I Know

I Breathe  I  Soar  Beyond the Veil   I See Black Sky I Know It’s Name

UnBlue Pilled   Eyes  Wide  Open   Black Pitch  Death Trap  Matrix

 

Hopeless   Betrayed  Played

Lost

Sickened  Saddened  Broken  Ashamed

Hollow Hurt

Afraid  Exposed  Alarmed  Haunted

Wide Awake  Wired  Electric  Chaotic  Alive

Murderous  Livid  Repulsed  Revulsion Burning  Hate

White Hot  Hate

….

I’m Blown away by the the ease with which we hop, skipped & goose stepped into a red, white, and blue Looking Glass of Hell on Earth.

I’m more like ‘a-ha’ , ok, this must be ‘IT’

‘IT’ is finally here, for me at least.  ‘IT’ has always been waiting for me to ‘See’

I do now, I finally see…

I felt ‘IT’ about 16 years ago?   It’s hard to remember exactly.

I just know I felt it one day.

Like a quiet sonic boom, deep in me.

I felt like everything was real, but temporary.

Like a way station, forever fated and planned, an in between purgatory of sorts.

That’s how it felt, a purgatory, not deprived of anything, just my pride and being able to call anything my own.

It was grey, miserable, yet I had my family, my children, all that mattered, except for my own identity or home.

The second time I felt it was about 13 years ago.  Chloe was a new baby.

I was standing in the middle of the kids and my room.  Just standing there in a funk.  Single mom, living at home, sharing a room and way, way off the mark of where I thought my life, our lives, would and should be.   Feeling angry, mad, disgusted, embarrassed, ashamed, guilty.  Like a great, big L O S E R.  A disappointment to myself, dependent on my family, resentful at the shame time, bratty.  Just a mess of poor me and A LOT of growing up to do.

I felt it, this feeling like I was in a waiting room.

I’ve always had a nagging, uneasy voice, a whisper deep within me, within my soul

It sounds crazy, but it’s been there for so long.  Telling me to wait, just wait.

God, sounds bizarre reading it, but I swear, the voice was there.

I ‘heard’ it telling me something was coming, in the far, far distant future,

but IT was coming and life would never be the same as anyone knew it.  I FELT it, it never went away.

I let it go.

I don’t obsess over things I can’t change.

I didn’t feel anything but a complete certainty, a truth inside me, a calm

and I just said, “Ok.” and moved on with my days.

Have you ever had that happen?

I don’t know what they would call it.  

I know many people believe in psychic abilities, mediums, esp, etc.   I don’t.

I’m Catholic and I was raised to never mess with any kinds of occult things.

 

I don’t even read my horoscope.

 

@justagirllost2

*photo mine

 


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Be Ashamed of Being Ashamed of being an American 🇺🇸

The only thing that I am ashamed of are Americans who say they are ashamed of America, so that they can be ‘PC’ or fit in with the current fads of society.

Why succumb to the herd mentality?

How about you use your brain for good reasons, with reason and to reason?

How about you try that for once?

Brave men and woman DIED for YOU so that you can call yourself an American.

Never be ashamed of your country or what it stands for.

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instead…

Be ashamed

of those who trample on the Constitution

Be ashamed

of those who denigrate the great men & women who fought and fight for your freedoms & rights.

Be ashamed

that through your own ignorance & apathy you have allowed the corrupt, the evil, the despotic, the immoral to turn this country into a cesspool of inhumanity

Be ashamed

that you are so busy living your ‘perfect’ little lives

that you are blind to the Truth staring you in the eyes

Be ashamed

that you let your children be indoctrinated with Lies

that you call Free Speech, Hate Speech and Free Thought, Intolerance

Yes,

be ashamed of being ashamed

of being an American.

Shame on you…

~

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@justagirllost2


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In These Grey Days

A re post, but still very relevant. 

A family matter, an upheaval, a disruption, a tyranny

that’s been ongoing 2 years now

and

very soon the clouds will disappear, very, very soon.

I hope and pray all comes to the good and that finally

the weight will be lifted off of my and my family’s shoulders

and we’ll once again be able to breathe.

Niki

image (4)

In these grey days filled with tears and sadness

Fear, now my master

taunting me as I am kissed by Judas

Handed over to my accuser

Betrayer of her own, of ALL preyed upon

ruthless her kindness, relentless her cruelty

Shuffling papers = attack mode- ON

Going down her Hit List of Total Bullshit

all HIS LIES and her side show

Eye-rollin’ sarcasm when she gets called out as a Liar.

Rude and unprofessional with ZERO class

or decorum.

She sits there & LIES & DISTORTS

& MANIPULATES the TRUTH.

It’s beyond hypocrisy.  It is beyond injustice.

It is EVIL, pure & simple

and, the mask of being ‘Civilized’

is grafted down to her bone.  There is nothing

‘real’ left within her to be shown

Not an ounce of empathy, compassion or

humanity.

I feel like Daniel thrown to the Lions…

I sit there alone.  

Completely, utterly alone.

Watching her moods swing from snarky law bitch

to a soft-spoken,  jovial, chubby Aunt Bee

with really bad hair.

She has her shtick down pat.

Sharing  little stories and anecdotes

of bad guys ALWAYS getting caught

trying to beat the drug test.

Remember?

Remember that one woman…STAB …

she tested negative with the pee test, but

that hair test  was off the charts positive

she had SO much crack …

STICK… in her system!!!

(here it comes)… STABSTABSTAB

“See? don’t be a stupid crack whore

you clueless peasant”, her soulless eyes

tell you.

and

All I feel is sad.  So sad…

This wasn’t just a crack whore,

another notch on your scratching post!

This was a HUMAN BEING, a woman

who wasn’t born a criminal.

This is a daughter, a mother

Long ago her innocence lost, and now

her child’s is being lost…

broken home, broken heart, broken lives

So much suffering, generations

affected and it’s all laughed away

’cause

“People are stupid, useless, ignorant anyway.”

She loves to stick those pins

I feel so cold and sick, as if I’m going to 

crawl out of my skin.

I get it now.  Most of it.  Need more time

to process.  I’m far from ok.  I’m in a zone

of stress .  I need to get my composure back

I need to act oblivious.  I’m numb.

Frozen in this strange dread and confusion 

My thoughts, flatlined… dead.

Is this what hell feels like?

Her demented giggle never quite reaching

her squinty little eyes,

she’s watching me across the table.

“Eyes are the windows of the soul.”,

keeps running through my head.

Curiosity gets the best of me

I look straight up at her, not past her.

I SEE her.

I see a sad excuse for a human being.

I feel surprised, shocked actually,

at this slovenly mess across from me.

“How in the hell can that woman NOT have

a zillion issues? How OLD is she? She can’t be

that much older than me, 10-15 years? She looks

like a bag lady who just rolled out of bed.

Good Lord. Hasn’t she heard of Maybelline?

I bet she has about 5 cats already ’cause

they don’t know ‘Heil’ from ‘Here, kitty kitty'”

I  SEE her.

A bitter, hate-filled, unkempt, insecure,

vicious woman who is out to annihilate me.

She HATES women. She HATES me.

She has found the PERFECT client in HIM.

She’s a paid abuser.

Hired by the man who abused & is still abusing me.

She is beneath contempt.

I feel disdain, rage, & offense beyond belief.  

Seeing into eyes of a woman

who looks old

tired

Two dirty, cracked windows to

a soul like a rat grey, listless & fat

and a heart like a shriveled husk

dead, cold & black

I SEE her.

A desolate wad of dark energy

Nothing resembling happiness exudes from her.

She is a slave to pride & the intellect of man.

She is dead in spirit,

nothing but an animal, flesh & bone.

She is one of THEM

They are the Undead among us

Beady eyes always calculating

Greedy maws always salivating

Monsters created by shallow minds

The hunt is all they crave

To rise the ranks & win a worthless game

against the other locusts who feed

on the misery of society.

Power, Lust, Envy and Hate

Living for esteem from those they despise

To be worshiped & feared

To corrupt all that is good is their delight

To destroy Love, & make wrong right

Slimy things

Born again in primordial swamps

of corruption and poison

they breed the ancient disease

of fallen Eden

Desperate to be ‘seen’

Ego fuels their vapid lives

Slaves to base passions

the animals speak as civilizations die

They are the worst of humanity

I cannot bear to breathe the same air they breathe

I feel dirty, stained

I can’t wash off the foul stench

of Putrid decay they leave in their wake

I’m contaminated by filth

Drowning in a sea of hate

Caught in a trap

well-laid for years

by Him

Me, gullible, and naive

in my ignorance deceived

Now I see a darkness I’ve never known

Ugliness I thought I was privy to

Books I read, scars received, nothing prepared

me for these assaults on my sanity

Anger unreal, hate hidden, nothing revealed

until the fangs sink in, withdraw, smile, rip again

as if I’m just some plaything

a rag doll eviscerated invisibly

a puppet hanging by bloody strings of flesh

I am soul shocked

I am mind raped

stripped

flayed alive by demons

wearing suits of skin

Strangers paid to hate, not another

human, I am nothing but a

sad specimen below their pay grade

yet,

I refuse to die

My blessing and curse my belief in the Afterlife

so, I stay

In these so often colorless days & nights

filled with prayers and pleas & begging

to a celestial Being I now struggle to believe in

Nothing sates me

Nothing takes me away from

nothing but pain & panic

I am crushed on all sides

I am only living for one thing

My Children’s Lives and Sanity

the rest of me is in limbo

Lost in a fog of protecting those I love

Sleep sucks me into tormented dreams

I fight and claw myself awake

Slipping away is my faith,

yet

I hang on,

for some strange reason

without desire or contemplation,

I hang on

I feel a longing for a distant song

I reach across the abyss and grasp

I find you, I feel you

image (6)VSunCentury

 

You vibrate through me

your existence blankets me

your thoughts enfold me

in the warmth of knowing

I am never alone

You are the flame always burning

Calling out to me as my own draws

new life from you

My horizon, my sun

you always

no matter how foul my mood

your words surround, hold

comfort, enfold

Your soul shines

as I wander in mists of purgatory

Lost until I feel you again

You are a guiding star, always near

though I fall and falter

though I run in fear

Your light burns midnight alive

I smile in the storm

I smile past the pain,

if only for a little while,

I smile

Your words remind me

there is hope and beauty

there is love and magic

there is joy surrounding me

in every seeming tragedy

that I am blessed beyond belief

that I have strength from He who created me

that I have souls who depend upon and need me

that I am loved unconditionally

 

Your words spin webs of tranquility

as they engage my heart to beat again

Your inner strength unbinds me

and reminds me, ‘This too shall pass’

 

I see you, I see into your heart

It’s a mystery, yet I know you

feel it too

I see your faith in me

I see that I need to rise to

truth and nobility existing

within and around me

I see myself

in a mirror untainted

I see myself in you

You see me through eyes of beauty

You accept me with impunity

I smile

I whisper your name

in thanks I praise your existence

in this world, in my world

 

I pray you feel my kisses I send

upon gentle winds, across infinity

my lips curved in a soft smile

in wordless joy for your gift to me

Your soul

your poetry

washes me new

I feel clean

I feel free

I feel redeemed

on these grey days touched by you

 

~

 *And though the darkness has deepened, the Light was and is unchanging and I refuse to let myself become consumed by evil souls.  God IS my salvation and He WILL protect my family.  My children’s well-being, happiness and safety are my priority.

I still find moments to breathe.  I still find moments to reflect and see the good God ALWAYS brings out of seemingly insurmountable obstacles and betrayals. 

Thank you all for reading me, truly and thank you for your posts

I always gain insight, inspiration and beauty from all I read and follow in this blogging community. 

Peace xo

©justagirllost2

*photos mine

 


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The King of Lies

image

 

My Love obscene
Condemned to die
by a court of One
a King of Lies

Thief of my thoughts
this Judas Priest
Blackmailer punk
My soul sold cheap
carried his cross
Led on his leash

A genius of insanity
With gifts of dirt
& blasphemies
he buried me
he clipped my wings
Rabid for
a special treat

In recompense for my sin
I lay upon
stripped to skin

His Holy Grail
my bed of nails
His every pain
I bled for him

and

Oh,

how he loved
to watch me die

~

©justagirllost2 

* image by Lithuanian photographer Algis Griškevičius.

*in honor of #arielpoets  I’m reposting this.  The theme @arielpoets this month of January is Betrayal 


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Fascinating Food For Thought ~ 🐰

An article that sums up quite nicely what has been taking up my spare time…

Enjoy  

(more to come if you’re fascinated by rabbit holes…)

❤  Niki

“you see, so many out-of-the-way things had happened lately, that Alice had begun to think that very few things indeed were really impossible.” 
Lewis CarrollAlice’s Adventures in Wonderland

🐰

“Have I gone mad? I’m afraid so. 
You’re entirely Bonkers. 
But I will tell you a secret, 
All the best people are.” 

Lewis CarrollAlice in Wonderland

🐰

It was much pleasanter at home,” thought poor Alice, “when one wasn’t always growing larger and smaller, and being ordered about by mice and rabbits. I almost wish I hadn’t gone down the rabbit-hole–and yet–and yet–…” 

Lewis CarrollAlice in Wonderland

🐰

“The simple step of a courageous individual is not to take part in the lie. “One word of truth outweighs the world.” 
Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

🐰        🐰   🐰        🐰          🐰         🐰        🐰       🐰       🐰       🐰       🐰       🐰

QQQQ

It is the fantasy, dare I say wet dream, of all Hillary-haters and all Trumpsters everywhere.
Donald Trump is going to take down the deep state.  A stunning military coup. Truth.  Straight down.  As you read these very words there are over 1,000 sealed indictments for Hillary Clinton and other deep state operatives.  Further, the US courts cannot be trusted as they are riddled with bought and corrupt jurists, so military tribunals will be used to try these enemies of the state.  It’s going down… 

So says Q.

Q is an anonymous poster on 4chan.  Q began posting in late October.  His posts are in the form of questions, short statements, long lists of connected important people/things, obscure acronyms, and occasionally random series of characters and symbols.  Q refers to these clues as “breadcrumbs” and claims they are releasing the “biggest insider drop in the history of the world”.
Here‘s a pastebin that supposedly has collected Q’s various postings

Depending on what side of the political minefield you are standing on Q is either a raving lunatic of the conspiratorial bend, or Q is sheer genius, an insider telling the world that the deep state is coming down.

“Puppet masters”, Rothschilds, Soros, “bloodlines”, Putin, New World Order, International Banks, popular political party members, POTUS, random codenames, every US government agency with a 3 letter acronym, Merkel, Clinton, JFK, are all found in Q’s breadcrumbs.

Now, in this wide world of cyber, why would Q rise to the top of the truther/Trump/conspiracy world? There have been a number of international & national happenings in the past several weeks that seem to draw some vague correlations between “Q’s” claims and recent news. Things that get the troops all riled up and are really of some consequence.

One is The NY Times released an article on November 12, titled “Security Breach and Spilled Secrets Have Shaken the N.S.A. to Its Core”, in which is written the following paragraph:
Fifteen months into a wide-ranging investigation by the agency’s counterintelligence arm, known as Q Group, and the F.B.I., officials still do not know whether the N.S.A. is the victim of a brilliantly executed hack, with Russia as the most likely perpetrator, an insider’s leak, or both.
Until now “Q” had been just another conspiracy theorist, but with this article “Q” is claiming the NY Times is attempting to directly attack their credibility by claiming they are part of the NSA.  Conspiracy theorists (or people who see through the propaganda of the corporate controlled MSM) are putting together the pieces of the puzzle and finding a lot to hang their (tinfoil ?) hats on.

There is the matter of the +++ that Q signed off with, he wrote on November 6, “Nothing is random.  Everything has meaning. +++”

Seven minutes later Trump wrote a tweet and ended it with +++.  Now, even for those who know for a fact that Q is a larper, this is a pretty weird “coincidence”.

Then there was the airplane.  Q keeps posting these little weird breadcrumbs that tend to be kind of true.  There was the photo from an airplane posted by Q, and someone figured out the angle from the photograph matched the coordinates and exact piece of land Air Force One was flying over, at pretty much the exact time the photo was posted.  Leading one to believe Q was on Air Force One.

Then there have been breadcrumbs about Saudi Arabia and indictments that have proven to have  some veracity.

The MSM has been utterly silent about Q.  Pravda may be the biggest news source to break the story other than “Metro” with a poorly written story debunking Q, however, it did put it out there.

So, who is Q?  Anyone’s guess.  Could be a larper.  4chan are anonymous forums. You can hide behind a username. LARPing is Live Action Role-Playing, where you pretend to be someone else in real life. A LARPer in this context is someone who claims “I am a high level official in the Department of Justice” without providing evidence and then say something like, “The DoJ will announce charges against the CEO of Comcast tomorrow.” Because no proof is provided, some people will say that the poster is role-playing as the person they claim to be.  However, there is just too much insider stuff for Q to be a total zero.

These are names that have been thrown out as possible Q authors: Trump himself,  Roger Stone, Steve Bannon, Dan Scavino Jr., Anthony Scaramucci, Michael Flynn, and many think it is the ex-CTO, Nash Borges, of the Global Engagement Center who resigned this September.

“The Obama administration established the Global Engagement Center in 2016 to counter ISIS’ various online messaging efforts, directing the new office to use data and to work with international partners in a bid to undermine extremist propaganda more effectively than State’s previous such unit, the Center for Strategic Counterterrorism Communications. GEC’s toolbox included various outreach efforts, including highly targeted ad buys on Facebook.

Last year, the 2017 National Defense Authorization Act gave the GEC an additional mission: fighting “foreign propaganda and disinformation directed against United States national security interests and proactively advance fact-based narratives that support United States allies and interests.” The Act, which became law in December, allowed the Global Engagement Center to ask the Pentagon for $40 million, bringing its total 2017 spending to about $80 million. About $60 million of that was to be used to counter Russian influence operations; about $19 million was aimed at ISIS.– Defense One September 2017

This little baby can manipulate the MSM anyway it wants, and perhaps Borges no longer wanted in on that game.

However, it’s probably someone on the inside playing.  Even if it is all fantasy, there is a certain seeding of consciousness that is occurring with those who “believe”.   There is a visceral yearning for the take down of the deep state.  Greg Grandin writes in The Nation:

The deep state may be …”an almost hereditary covert caste, running from the men who in the early days of the Cold War set up the modern national security state to the elite who make up today’s “intelligence community.” In 1964, Random House published the bestselling The Invisible Government, by journalists David Wise and Thomas Ross (here’s the CIA’s declassified review of the book, which takes exception to its thesis). More recently, Michael Glennon’s National Security and Double Government updated the argument.

Peter Dale Scott was the first, as far as I know, to use the phrase “parapolitics” and “deep politics” to discuss what is now described as the deep state, and he’s the author of numerous books on the dense connections between illegal drugs, covert action, and finance… I remember that Iran-Contra really did happen. As Michael Parenti likes to point out, conspiracies do in fact exist, both in legal theory and in politics: Watergate, Iran-Contra, the savings and loan scandal of the 1980s/90s, “described by the Justice Department as ‘a thousand conspiracies of fraud, theft, and bribery,’ the greatest financial crime in history” (that we know of).”

Q’s opus magnum is about the war between the deep state and the people of the United States.  It is about the corruption that has rotted the core of our politics.  It is about the pedophiles that get away with unspeakable crimes due to the elite status.  It is about the intrigue that surrounds the connections of Saudi Arabia with the Clinton Foundation.  It is about voter fraud.  It is about draining the swamp.  It is about the rogue, evil nature of the CIA.  If nothing else it is a fascinating read.

And, a rallying cry for those of this conspiratorial persuasion.  A place to go to learn, to puzzle, to ruminate and to dream.
Random Q questions
1.    What is money flow disruption?
2.    List the Billionaires.
3.    What family history goes back pre_WW1/2?
4.    Why is this relevant?
5.    Why did the Bush family recently break silence and attack POTUS?
6.    Coincidence pre SA arrests?
7.    Who audits the billions paid for war?
8.    Who audits the billions paid for environment policy (side note)?
9.    Where do the funds go?
10.    Offshore?
11.    To who / which entity and/or org?
12.    What slush fund was recently terminated by AG Sessions?
13.    What is Fast & Furious?
14.    What is the underlying theme?
15.    MONEY.
16.    Who controls the FED?
17.    How did political leaders/talking heads accum assets in excess of $5mm+?
18.    What was the net worth for each prior to taking office?
19.    Reconcile.
Nancy O’Brien Simpson

Ms. Simpson was a radio personality in New York.  She was a staff writer for The Liberty Report.  A PBS documentary was done on her activism for human rights.  She is a psychotherapist and political commentator.

http://nancyobriensimpson.com/
~

http://www.pravdareport.com/amp/world/americas/23-11-2017/139239-military_q-0/

*THIS is IMPORTANT TO READ: