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See what happens next....
One day people will take off their 3D glasses and really see me.12D me. They'll then have a massive epiphany, realizing that all this time I was never playing their damned stupid Game. I was predicting and teaching,
awakening, enlightening and prophesying.
And at the same time, slapping off those
irritating and pesky mosquitoes, leeches,
ticks and other parisites plaguing
the lightworkers of the world.
"THE GAME" IS A TERRIBLE SICKNESS in this world. A plague, pandemic and deadly disease. A gross symptom of fungal-infected brain-dead collective zombiness.
I'm NOT interested in competing, never have been. Set up and framed by those running the damned thing. I never asked to participate and was never asked if I wanted to participate.
I'd have said "NO! Never! It's not for me." Simple and true.
That's why I feel psychically, spiritually, physically, emotionally and psychologically raped by the world's continuing insistence I'm playing their Game. I'm not. Hear me now. If you refuse to hear me, you're one of the rapists.
In fact, I've never known a thing about it, nor been informed about any of it's machinations. Figured things out myself. At the time it all began, my so-called 'spiritual teachers' and 'friends' denied and lied lied lied about it happening, about the existence of The Game. Trying pretty hard to make me look crazy. Big fail.
So not only was I badly betrayed, always painful, I was set up to fail bigtime - despite not ever wanting to play, compete nor compare. Called a Loser, even tho' I wasn't playing.
All so damn weird.
The Fog Machine
Yet somehow, moving confusedly thru the murky grey clouds emanating from their Fog Machine, I still managed to work out some of what their Game was about, and was able to stay alive whilst I next figured out how the hell to get out of the horrible thing ...
The Mindless Mass Media Machine
Now, next to the Fog Machine sits the gunmetal-grey Mindless Mass Media Machine, somewhat worse. Set up by the elite Vampire and its minions, the Media Machine plays havoc with its target's self-image. For some reason, women get hit with it a whole lot harder than men.
The Mindless Mass Media Machine gives itself free rein to constantly comment, ignorantly + derogatorily, on our:
Eyes, lashes + brows: CONTROLLING/MODERATING OUR GAZE
Dental work, teeth + lips: CONTROLLING/SILENCING OUR VOICE
Hands, fingers + dexterity: CONTROLLING/BLOCKING/LOCKING DOWN OUR CREATIVITY
Hair: BASING OUR VALUE ON ADHERENCE TO MAINTAINING SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE HAIR
Breasts: SEXINESS IS EVERYTHING, MOTHERING IS NOTHING.
OUR CHILDREN ARE NOT OUR OWN, ACCORDING TO 'THE GAME'. THE WORST AND BIGGEST HEARTBREAK OF ALL.
UTTER VIOLATION + DEGRADATION OF THE TRUE FAMILY. PRESSURE TO WORSHIP THEIR FAKE INTERNET 'FAMILY'
(ACTUALLY A CULT).
Botoxed or wrinkly; underarms; thighs, kidneys; stomach et al: VALUE BASED ON YOUTHFUL APPEARANCE EVEN IF FAKE
Pubic hair, shaved or not shaved: CONTROLLING OUR SEXUALITY + OUR HAIR!
Vaginal color, texture + 'attractiveness': CONTROLLING THE FREEDOM OF OUR CVNTS; NEGATIVE JUDGEMENT OF DIVERSITY
Prettiness or 'ugliness': JUDGING OUR WORTH BASED ON APPEARANCE + COMPLIANCE WITH SOCIALLY EXPECTED NORMS. THREATENED BY NATURAL BEAUTY.
Single or Married: CONTROLLING OUR RIGHT TO AUTONOMY + INDEPENDENCE. ENFORCED COUPLEDOM.
'Nice' or 'Bitch': CONTROLLING OUR REACTIONS TO ABUSE
Aged or Youthful: ASSESSING OUR RIGHT TO LIFE BASED ON AGE
Weak or Strong: SOCIAL USEFULNESS GAUGED BY HEALTH
Sexy, Athletic VS Intelligent or 'Nerdy': OUR INTELLIGENCE IS JUDGED WORTHLESS; APPEARANCE IS EVERYTHING; KEEPING US IN OUR PLACE, LOCKED DOWN + BOXED DOWN.
Tip of the iceberg (and by now we're getting pretty icy!)
Worst of all, they think they have the right to publicly comment on our overall body shape and size. Yes, if you put on a kilo or two, suddenly you're Ten Ton Tessie, or if you lose a kilo or two you're Anorexia Annie. Can't win.
Deep Fakes widely circulated online by the Mindless Mass Media Machine of ballooned body size of their favored targets are de rigueur.
To be honest I'd like to invite the media, paparazzi and press-gang to kindly fuck the fuck off when it comes to women's bodies. Just fuck off.
It's going to take a looong time for women to get over this terrible era of body-shaming no matter what shape or size. Unless of course you're lucky enough to be labelled 'little miss perfect'. But honey, nothing lasts forever.
Put the women's bodies down, Mindless Mass Media,
and back away slowly ...
LEAVE MY BODY ALONE Anita Kunz 2006
Remember this, darlings:
No-one ever told me a thing about it! The Game, that is. Nothing! So how could I possibly compete under such circumstances anyway? Complete bitches, right?
It's NOT my thing! I'm not here to play them, kids!
Notice 'The Game' hasn't improved the world in any way, if that was ever their plan. Nor their 'Life' Blood Maiden sacrifice girls. Yet another sick aspect of their Game I was never informed of in any way, shape or form.
It's no Game
It's too dangerous, life and death deadly. A mere ruse for Satanists to insidiously get people to do bad things to one another. Thus becoming one of them.
What does that say to you about their ethics and integrity (or lack thereof) and the truth about the Game Plan?
No, the world is much the worse for it, and those running the thing are utterly corrupt. Basically evil. Satanic, sociopathic and sadistic.
That's how I see them with my Dhamphir eyes.
Remember this too, darlings, the Dhamphir senses and sees danger. Seeing things others can't. Like when the Vampire is about to chow down.
Where others see a pretty girl/woman or boy/man flirting and offering 'love', glamor and seduction, the Dhampir sees a pending shark attack. Usually fully correct too.
It took me a long while to trust my intuitive abilities again after an Australian psychic abused my gifts thru lies and denial. Took a while to get over that, it did. As she intended.
But I see pretty damn well now, people. And now I'm waiting for the world to trust my vision.
That'll be a very good day.
The Game of Life
"Where did it all start?" people ask, "coz theres always been a Game of Life," revving up their argument in favor of it.
"Not like this one! This version of worldly Gaming is the most toxic evil thing I've stumbled across in a long while. Not since the Roman days really, on this planet..." I reply.
"Where I come from, my favorite place in space - because I've dwelt in many times, places and dimensions - we don't play games, there's too much to create, too much work to do."
I lean forward to make my point. "And it's been shown to be downright destructive, unraveling the fabric of social cohesion faster than a nuclear explosion. An extinction event waiting to happen, right there in front of your eyes!"
***
They laugh in mocking disbelief, all the while knowing I speak God's truth. "Where the hell do you come from?" they ask indignantly, "What kind of a weird place doesn't play Games?"
'Oh my God!' I silent react, 'The all-important effing Game! As tho' there's something wrong with such a state of affairs as having NO GAME!'
"Oh I'm definitely not from 'round here," I answer out loud, "Where I come from there's no need to be a predator, no need to compete, no need for getting power over another."
They stare at me as tho' I'm insane. A dreamer of impossible dreams.
***
"Where I come from," I continue,"we help eachother be the best 'me' we can possibly be. Celebrate each other's wonderful achievements - no comparing or competing. Another world, honey."
I make my last, most important point, hoping they take it in. " When we stopped playing The Game on Forest World, we finally had the time, focus, cooperation and community cohesion to heal our world on every level. All worlds need healing at some point. The world I speak of - in another dimension - is insanely beautiful, gorgeous and glorious. The Game was poison."
They look away, not daring to let such beautiful thoughts into their closed and heavily controlled minds.
***
After hearing such sacreligious ideas (blasphemous to their great stinking lord of darkness that is), they somehow quell their gag reflex, taking off to self-medicate as fast as possible
Leaving me in blissful peace to continue creating and enjoying life in my own way once more.
Here's a thought.
If they'd stayed instead of running away to drink and smoke drugs to shut down their heart, soul and mental capacities, thus smashing their dreams - and mine - to smithereens, I'd have said this to them:
"Instead of seeing all I'm doing as some other version of 'The Game', still competing and comparing, no matter how obscurely, I'd ask you to let all that go.
"Shift your understanding. See my work, my writings, all of it, as Predictions and Teachings. An invitation to dialogue, a mutual sharing of knowledge, wisdom and ideas.
"Imagine I'm NOT playing!
"Recognise what you're really seeing here. Appreciate another way. Reframe our world into better days.
"I'd prefer that. Truly."
***
Then as a mark of respect for me, I'd have asked them to not bow down nor grovel, no need for any of that, but simply shift their way of seeing and thinking. Change gears to access a whole other dimension.
"Bravely enter the beckoning Stargate. Slide swiftly, faster than the speed light thru a cosmic wormhole to my place in space, falling gently into my world thru a gorgeous opalescent portal."
'Find me in that secret sacred place where I create,' I'd have added silently. Hoping any telepaths out there might hear.
"Another world. My world. You're very welcome." My heart wide open to those who dare. Dare to venture forth from the dying Games World to a verdant, lush and abundant Forest World.
SOURCES
Synopsis/underlying concept of this article:
STOP THE GAME!
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