Wishing for Change. Feeling like a Slave to the System.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Starting to be a recurring dream: I keep forgetting to attend Math class and forgetting to do the homework, all semester long. I wonder if I’ll have to retake it. I wonder if it’s really necessary.

Dreaming within a dream: I woke up in the middle of the night. (Actually still dreaming, here.) My bed was over by the computer desk, parallel to it. Dark in the room. Sun was not yet up. 3:34 or 3:45 AM. I hoped to get back to sleep before my alarm went off. I didn’t want to go to work/school/whatever. Worried about attracting Reptilian presence with sexual energy. Gathered love energy around me, for protection. I thought about skipping class/work, so I could sleep in. My alarm was set to go off at 4 or 5, I think.

Earlier, I saw Russian words; I wanted to look it up online, but didn’t know how to type the letter in the middle. It looked like a tall pi symbol: π

Blackbird singing in the dead of night;
Spread your wings and learn to fly;
All your life;
You were only waiting for this moment to arise. (to be free).
—Beatles song

I wish I had a teacher. A mentor. Someone to help free my mind. Like Morpheus, in the movie The Matrix. Then again, what if I am the teacher? What if I am a “Morpheus” to the younger, future generations? Still. I am not the first. There are others out there, who know more than I do. I wish I could make real contact with them and learn from them. I feel like I am guessing blindly, all the time.

Internet is down. Kind of forcing me to focus on myself. I suppose it’s for the best.

My path is hidden from me.

If there is no teacher… if there is no path… then maybe I just need to become my own teacher. Become my path.


A young black man (15–23?) came to my door to get me to sign up for magazines. They were the usual bullshit magazines of America. I joked: “The only magazine I’d be interested in is the one that talks about bringing down the Federal Reserve.”

He replied, “The who?”

“The Federal Reserve,” I repeated. “You can look it up online. It’s a pretty evil organization.”

I said I wasn’t interested in the magazines and he left.

I was pretty damn shocked that he hadn’t even heard of the name. I mean, I don’t know all the details, of course, but I thought at least everyone had heard of the two words “Federal Reserve” before. Wow.

Those are the people who are asleep. The Sheep caught and controlled like cattle. Those are the ones who might go insane, unable to handle the truth to be revealed in the next year or so. Those are the ones who’d never even consider that buckets of US Dollars might not buy a loaf of bread someday.


I wish I could fly without machines.

I wish I could live in the trees peacefully, in balance with nature, without bills and taxes.

I would have free energy, not burning trees’ wood, not using gross [disgusting] oil, nor animal fat.

How? How do I make this come true? Wishing isn’t enough—nothing has happened so far. Action is needed. But what?


Desire for a group fades.

Desire for a boyfriend fades.

I’d still like to have my own land, obtained in an ethical, free, moral way. Not a slave way. Forever a slave to the System. Slave No More!


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