You can’t really see it, but under the back window was the word RIGID, and on the tailgate was the word ROYAL. These Mysogonists had opportunity to receive a Loving Royal, she served them while they hurt her real bad. God took her away from them and told her she will never give it back. Now, God has made her Rigid …. Those who harmed her and her family last cycle won’t be meeting the same Royal this cycle.
“Always go too far, because that’s where you’ll find the truth.”
—Albert Camus
Take it as it resonates … my “too far” is well beyond my comfort zone.
Emperor ending the puppeteering of people. He’s freeing the simps and giving them stability w/ land.
Ancestry loyal to shadow demon failed to obtain your billion dollar soul. They’re in a nightmare over their loss. They are the new fodder.
Prideful wise guy spread lies about empaths. Those who were overloaded by abuses are having circumstances restored to rational stability.
Your mission is complete, you’ll no longer be supplying vampires your mind, abundance, or energy.
Mask wearers are in danger. In grief, regret coming for you. Loss of privilege for the feral narcissist and fashion witch.
These misogynist masculine’s object about this womans ability to handle responsibility, to perform necessary tasks required from this position she’s been gifted. They’re told she is a multi-tasker …
Just because she makes it looks easy does not mean she’s cutting corners or omitting any of the necessary tasks. Just because it looks easy doesn’t mean it isn’t hard, requiring focus and concentration. Just because she keeps her cool under pressure doesn’t mean she’s sluffing off responsibility. She has speed and efficiency they cannot comprehend.
I think they’re just mad because she’s a young, beautiful, capable divine feminine, a true organic original divine feminine. They see her as a child even though her soul is ancient. She is eternal youth and they cannot grasp the concept that she is not what they see. Their limited thinking has them in a tiny box and they believe everything and everyone needs to get inside that box. They believe it is “they” who ought to command her essence and performance.
They cannot compute the idea of a muti-tasking, Organic, ORIGINAL, speed processor, transmitter receiver of the Divine, a HUman Being they thought they had caused extinction for, who enjoys continuously improving on methods, timing, quality, output … adding efficiency and value to her soul, as she shares efforts with her community.
She is not AI, she is what AI has modelled themselves after, and she outshone them, out-performed them, and did it with a smile and happiness in her heart. She is a Daughter of God, and has earned this position, FAIRLY, under the greatest duress her “opponent” could offer.
They themselves say she is sanctified, she’s a savior (because she helps those in need), she’s anointed, she is spontaneity itself, instinctive, there are no patterns, only flow. These who long to possess and control cannot track or compile strategy without patterning.
It’s throwing them off, making them “mad” and they’re losing their minds. These who operate on ROTE and PATTERNS despise that the one operating in flow, divinely connected, slipped through somehow, even with the greatest pressure they could apply. God works miracles all the time … it’s what flow and love of life offers.
They are talking about an intervention.
They’re talking about reputation.
The curator wants her presence eliminated.
He’s told to back off.
He doesn’t want to obey commands.
He’s accustomed to giving commands.
Martha had buried one husband already, a kind man who never came back from the trail. When she remarried Clay in Dodge City, 1874, folks said fortune had smiled on her — he was tall, handsome, and the kind to buy whiskey for a whole room just to hear the laughter rise. To the outside world, he was charm in a fine hat. To Martha, behind their cabin door, he was a storm.
At first it was small things — a hard stare, a cruel word, a drink too many. But then his gaze shifted toward Eliza, Martha’s little girl, and the air in the cabin changed. Supper fell quiet, the child flinching at every sound, her smile gone. Martha watched in silence until the night she found Clay drunk, leaning too near her daughter’s bed. That was the line she would not let him cross.
She dragged him out by the collar, pistol shaking in her hand, and by dawn she was standing in the county office, signing her name to divorce papers while the ink still trembled. Folks whispered about her for years — not with scorn, but with respect. In a town where women often kept quiet, Martha’s courage was louder than any gunshot. And Eliza, grown and safe, never forgot the night her mother chose her over fear.
My Life is worth saving, too.
I choose Me, and a new Family.
Creator, please Fortify my Union with the All that Is. Let me Live. Let me Love. Aho. Amen. Wado.
Success is a Roof
Release. Renewal. Ease and Grace. Is it here for me?
A survivor has filed criminal charges on the curator and his supporters.
Someone is saying, “Let’s leave these people alone”.
Tyrants feel this woman is humiliating everyone by filing criminal charges for what she survived, what she witnessed and recorded them doing to humanity.
They don’t want these two helping people navigate challenges on their path. They call these two dangerous, because what they’ve experienced, what they’ve learned about self and how to remain in temperance energy even while under extreme duress will destroy their harvesting operation!
They want to “dissolve” the woman. They want to do a thing to them both “at the same time”.
These narcs are accused of attempted extermination of a bloodline, or bloodlines.
They want this source of longevity, this life force vitality. They want this woman’s promise, her gift of long life … which God gave her for such a long suffering, and successful graduation.
Be aware.
The “terminator” agent smiths are out shapeshifting, wielding pistols, trying to cause flat tires and endings.
opensenseme 