Following 5 years of shit that I won’t go into here; I was
given 48 hours notice that the Great Spirit was providing for me a 1 week trip
to Egypt with free travel expenses from Wales. Needless to say, I was on a
high. An hour later I was walking to my conapt from town, having been to
library to research on their internet if I needed any inoculations, and I had
followed my instincts as always; the word ‘Prana’ means both ‘instinct’ and
‘life-flow’ into a second hand bookshop where I had picked up a book called
Temples, which had some beautiful photographs from all over the globe, and some
information that I knew I would later need.
Because I was so high, I caught the attention of the local presiding deity of the dominion of Zooport and so I was set upon by an evil spirit of a malignant city with intent to bring me down as hard and fast as it could. A White meets a Black so as to balance whatever the zone regards as upsetting to its stability, whatever level that is at and whatever form it takes. Which in Zooport means accepting that 9 out of 10 denizens are abusive and regard other people as their energy donors; the common language, the hive-mind mainframe, is depressant.
I encountered Gary the smack-head who I did not previously know and he told me he was about to kill himself. He explained that since he had got off drugs, the other druggies wouldn’t leave him alone and they had this very morning robbed him of the little things he owned during a break in.
I had by this time already got my nvq level 2 counselling qualification because so many people come to me with their problems and needing advice. Professional counselor would be fired for malpractise for giving advice, which is something a qualified counselor is trained not to do. A properly qualified counselor is allowed to listen to the persons problem, re-iterate it in different words so they know that they have been listened to, and tell them that it is okay for them to feel that way given their circumstances, and charge them money for it. Which in my real life experience does fuck all by way of sorting people out when they need counseling.
Gary needed help and after fifteen minutes of heavy discussion had used the very strong domination technique known to heroin addicts whose sense of purpose and control is energized by the depth of focus that is the need of their addiction; he had persuaded me to write in the front of the book of temples these words;
“to my good friend gary, I hope everything works out, much love” = MISTAKE!
followed by my name. I did it because at the time it seemed the quickest way to get him off my back so I could get on with everything else I had to do, eg; find my passport and check if it was still valid.
Gary appeared to need this positive input and told me what to write. It went against my instincts but he is persuasive as city vampires can be. I have since then studied intensely into protection from psychic vampirism, how not to be manipulated, defense against remote programming and similar.
Because I was so high, I caught the attention of the local presiding deity of the dominion of Zooport and so I was set upon by an evil spirit of a malignant city with intent to bring me down as hard and fast as it could. A White meets a Black so as to balance whatever the zone regards as upsetting to its stability, whatever level that is at and whatever form it takes. Which in Zooport means accepting that 9 out of 10 denizens are abusive and regard other people as their energy donors; the common language, the hive-mind mainframe, is depressant.
I encountered Gary the smack-head who I did not previously know and he told me he was about to kill himself. He explained that since he had got off drugs, the other druggies wouldn’t leave him alone and they had this very morning robbed him of the little things he owned during a break in.
I had by this time already got my nvq level 2 counselling qualification because so many people come to me with their problems and needing advice. Professional counselor would be fired for malpractise for giving advice, which is something a qualified counselor is trained not to do. A properly qualified counselor is allowed to listen to the persons problem, re-iterate it in different words so they know that they have been listened to, and tell them that it is okay for them to feel that way given their circumstances, and charge them money for it. Which in my real life experience does fuck all by way of sorting people out when they need counseling.
Gary needed help and after fifteen minutes of heavy discussion had used the very strong domination technique known to heroin addicts whose sense of purpose and control is energized by the depth of focus that is the need of their addiction; he had persuaded me to write in the front of the book of temples these words;
“to my good friend gary, I hope everything works out, much love” = MISTAKE!
followed by my name. I did it because at the time it seemed the quickest way to get him off my back so I could get on with everything else I had to do, eg; find my passport and check if it was still valid.
Gary appeared to need this positive input and told me what to write. It went against my instincts but he is persuasive as city vampires can be. I have since then studied intensely into protection from psychic vampirism, how not to be manipulated, defense against remote programming and similar.
The best advice I can give anyone is to;
“Always trust your Instincts; above all else!”
I have no evidence of it, but my instincts tell me that my
putting that message into that book is why I later received a whole ton of shit
to fall on me, which has been used to manipulate my life in various ways by
other energy vampires, from tramps to cops, from masons to druggies, as it is
regarded by manipulators as proof positive that I am evidently a heroin dealer
and heroin addict which is only a part of the slander campaign that has been
spread around about me, basically because people are envious of my success. I
have not ever taken heroin, nor do I ever intend to. I was once offered it by
someone I didn’t know at a party I went to as a student, and I have counseled
people who have been trying to get off it after they went cold turkey; my
advice to anyone in that situation is fuck ‘em. Heroin users and ex heroin
users are cunts, even decades after they have got clean; it turns people into
some of the worst type of vampires and cleverest manipulators, permanently.
In Holland, the statistics are as follows; the number of people taking heroin ten years after decriminalization of cannabis was the same as it was before decriminalization of cannabis. The average age range of heroin users ten years after decriminalization of cannabis is ten years older than it was before decriminalization of cannabis. Conclusion; the same individuals taking heroin before decriminalization of cannabis, are the same individuals taking it ten years later, more or less overdoses and a few newcomers. In Britain where cannabis has not been decriminalized, the average age range of heroin users is static decade in and decade out.
In Holland, the statistics are as follows; the number of people taking heroin ten years after decriminalization of cannabis was the same as it was before decriminalization of cannabis. The average age range of heroin users ten years after decriminalization of cannabis is ten years older than it was before decriminalization of cannabis. Conclusion; the same individuals taking heroin before decriminalization of cannabis, are the same individuals taking it ten years later, more or less overdoses and a few newcomers. In Britain where cannabis has not been decriminalized, the average age range of heroin users is static decade in and decade out.
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