College of Matriarchal Love, Core Tenets, Uncategorized

Mommy Fearest Homestead

Chapter 8 1-22-22 Mommy Fearest & the Homestead Farce

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          Our time in the city {Newark, NJ} was over. Mom & Dad had enjoyed the limelight in our Lithuanian Community, much of it based with the Church. Dad had started a ‘SaturdayCulturalSchool’ for the kids. There were paid teachers, we all met at the Church of the Annunciation auditorium. I loved it. Later it shrank into one class, the kids in my family & a couple other families, that was it – don’t know why – Maybe the fee parents had to pay. Our teacher was not Dad but a nice Lithuanian man, it was like a ‘one room schoolhouse’ where all ages were taught at the same time. The location was a room in the church.

          At the same time my Mom had become a director of the Lithuanian pageant/play for Christmas, with all us kids in the family & teen Lithuanian thespians.

          I had a good part in the play, my bro played a crow, cawing in Lithuanian, ‘Bus maitos, bus maitos’ – his only lines, meaning ‘There will be karma, there will be payback.’

          All I remember mostly – I was 6 – is there’s a Christmas tree on stage with baubles. I get a stool, climb up to one inviting bulb, squeeze it & & break it, look at Mom in the wings if she approves – she nods yes – My attempt at drama. We did our play in two different Lithuanian settings, I recall walking around the audience in pajamas after my scene & a grown man sees me & exclaims “Ahh!”, I get scared & run away.

          I’m not sure who organized our yearly cultural event, where each child was required to prove abilities & talents. Some sang or played musical instruments, I always recited poetry. My best gal pal Ruta read from an adult Lithuanian book, like a 6-year old reading Shakespeare. 

 

Below myself age 41 enjoying a farm in Connecticutt. Soon after I bought my own acres upstate NY in part a replacement & replica of the farm I enjoyed as a child, except my newfound Paradise is even greater & no family abuse – although there is the socital abuse one suffers by being in the adult trade – ostracism.

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          Time ripened & as it did, all patterns fell into place; Mom had her usual affairs, first with the young priest but threw him over for the Church organist. That was the beginning of the end.

          Mom said the priest ‘denounced her’ from the pulpit. I doubt it sincerely, he probably gave a sermon on adultery or deception – he could not have said her name. She knew she was guilty so felt it. The priest was guilty also, I think the problem was getting cuckolded with the organist, Marius Bernotas, so his shackles were up.

          From then on in I heard Mom & someone else in the family say ‘The Priest is Crazy.’

          I told that to one of my Catechism buddies as a secret, she blurted it out to the Nun Superior, the nun demanded where I got such an idea, I cried & said ‘so & so’ & by the time we got home I was hysterical in tears, blurted it all out to Mom. Now she knew it was public knowledge about her & the priest, there was scandal.

          Wherever Mom went there was drama. She did not get along with people – arguments, fights. Her affairs were legend, getting pregnant four times while still with Dad.

          The older lady & husband who sponsored us from Germany were going to set us up with a house & equivalent of 50k today – a distant relative of Dad. But Mom couldn’t get along with her & forfeited that, we went to live in a little house in Kearny next to the rr track – the wrong side of course, with a tiny garden behind, the 90 yr old man stooped down & showed me his plants under upside down jelly jars. The 5 yr old was impressed.

 

          It was after that we got involved with the Church in Newark, I recall a storefront in Kearny with us a few floors up, then Delancey St. in Newark, then Van Buren St. 3 floors up, next to the library, my room looking right into the window of the children’s section a floor below. That was the last of our city dwellings, Marius Bernotas had moved in with us & had his own room. There were fights over the paternity of the last baby, a girl. We no longer had much quarter with the Church, but Dad did get a loan from the old Priest for $500 {today would be $5k} to buy a farm. I recall seeing the receipt in his archives, still have it if I dig. Dad kept a lot of things, that’s how I know the teachers in his school were paid.

 

          OK enough said on that era. Now we move to this farm, which was a quasi-homestead or intended that way, where I believe Mom intended to live out a life like the Old Country, being semi-independent from the fruits of the fields.

          RD #3, Freehold New Jersey, MonmouthCounty, on the corner of a dirt road named {I think} Eli Harmony & the house right up to a paved road whose name I can’t recall.

          The question is, what was Mom’s intention with this quasi-homestead? Family wise, psychologically, she had this new bf/husband, Marius Bernotas, with whom she cuckolded Dad, but being a master manipulator/liar she convinced Dad they were platonic & nothing was going on with him & her at the farm.

          Dad did not move with us to the farm because of employment. Not sure where he worked, if it was still at the awful hat factory laboring nights when we lived at Delancey St.

          It was believed by all – certainly Dad & myself – that he was going to move in with us soon. Mom assured me of this, as he was my everything. He visited periodically {by bus, he never had a car or drove} puttering around here & there, working, helping repair things, reconnoitering in the swamp planning a Boy Scout Camp, & the two arguing incessantly – where I was dismissed each time they chatted like ‘go feed the dogs’ or do this or that. 

Below, Mom on the left, Aunt Ara on the right, Xmas time in the upstairs Uncle Henry built, – it did not have the ambience that the downstairs, furnished by Mrs Grant of Wacabuc, had.  Notice the clutter of house plants.  Mom & Ara are in their 50′s, this was one of Mom’s last Xmases, I wasn’t there. 

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          After much distance & years I’m able to put together the pieces of why, how, what for. I think she kept him ‘on the string’ for two years, placating him & lying about what she wanted. She said he was to move in with us & we would all work together running a profit-earning farm & he could have his Boy Scout Camp.

          (Dad was a Boy Scout leader at the time we were in the Displaced Person’s Camp in Germany. I am told it was not a confined atmosphere; people came & went whenever they wished – we had site-seeing trips to castles & such – & Dad even took the Scouts on a trip to Paris!) 

Below Dad & his Scouts, he’s in the middle with glasses – we who read & study every day end up with glasses,  bro Jimmy is below – he must have been about 4 – We were at the Displaced Person’s Camp then – it wasn’t a prison, we went many places – Here it’s explained how Dad wished to set up a Boy Scout Camp on our land near Freehold – we had 10 acres, a good deal of woods & swamp

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          These were dreams that Mom used to quell Dad & myself: Dad, so he would keep the money coming although there was another man – me, because she knew it would break my heart to lose him. I was 8 when we moved there, by age 10, 5th grade, it became known Dad would never be with us again & I lost all passion for life. I could no longer draw, lost my faith in God temporarily, my vision even went bad. I was the only one in my family other than Dad to ever wear them, & they got worse & worse as I read non stop.

          But to go back to my original intention in this chapter regarding the homestead & what Mom planned, why she thought she could achieve it, why she failed.

 

          A homestead or farm-for-profit is a business of selling. There are several facets to a business – one is having a product, two is selling the product. You can have a product & it may be great, but if you don’t have step two – a market– your business fails. That’s why Mom’s homestead failed. She could produce the products – fruits, vegetables, berries, eggs, but she was unable to market properly.

 

          And so, she – with the help of all of us, Marius in particular {he went to the swamp, I went with him at times, to get water – we had a barrel with wheels – it was cumbersome & back breaking} – grew the most wonderful products. Our foods were better than in the market. But what she did not do was go to the markets – whatever they were – outdoor, indoor market’s, farmer’s markets – & arrange sales ahead of time.

And when the food was ripe, from corn to strawberries, peaches, melons, turnips & tomatoes, you name it, she & Marius randomly went to markets & tried to sell them, & most of the foods were rotten before sold. It was such a monumental tragedy to see that waste.

Of course, she canned, dried, preserved enough for our family through the winter, but where was the money you needed – as you always need money for, say, the jars to preserve food in, the sugar to make preserves, etc. You have to have both products & cash.

 

How a Business Succeeds

 

          Years went by, as a grown woman I was at loose ends around 1987 when my stripping career was getting rough. I was tired of it, never had any money to spare & I wanted to quit – But what to do next? Most strippers either went into prostitution or got married. I could do neither as I was celibate by 1978, a promise to God.

 

          By 1985 I was thinking what next – how do I survive? By good luck Annie Sprinkle, the porno lady, hired me for an article for one of her magazines. She took polaroids & gave me a free add & even paid me. That article I could call the beginning of my mail order business, as I got about a hundred letters & got a hundred customers.

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          I’ll make this short as I spoke about this business elsewhere. I gathered a mail-order list of men who wanted to buy my pictures & later videos. It started out with fans, but branched out, because I discovered a place I could advertise for free – in underground domination, fetish publications, newspapers & magazines. They would give you a free ad if you send them an appropriate picture. I did this & the biz began to grow.

 

          It started with just images of me, which they paid well for, then videos of me dancing. After a year or so I hired other females & males for photos & videos. Then I’d send the pictures to magazines, for free, even big magazines like Hustler Erotic Video & Gent, & the exchange was pictures for free ads.

          This worked. I produced a product. The product was pictures & videos. I obtained a market – the market was men who wanted my product, & by 1995 I had a list of 3k paying customers. This was successful & lucrative & I bought my property upstate NY in 1989 with the money, & I lived high off the hog with this for ten years.

 

          What Mom failed to fathom was the market. You have to spend almost as much time with marketing as you do with production. They spent 95% production, 5% marketing.

 

          Again, you could be the world’s greatest actor or singer or dancer, but without promotion, you can’t get a following, you can’t draw a crowd & make money. For all sales, marketing one way or the other is as important as the product. Indeed some people don’t do much marketing, but its word of mouth. They have a product or service so great that people rave about it, & that’s marketing one body to another.

          As I thought about Mom & her wasted efforts I feel pity. During this time, when I was age 10 to 15 when we moved out of there, I knew the greatest poverty & discomfort of my life.

          When Dad was with us, & also Marius moved in, we had all we needed. Never did we suffer or lack money for food. But now I recall with pain, going to this local general store that had groceries, Mom asking the old Jewish man again & again to borrow the money for our stuff. He always obliged, God Bless him. But where was Dad? That’s what they argued about.

          Once Mom gave him the slip, which was about 2 years down the line, he knew they were finished, I think he was stingier with money. Why would Mom have to borrow for food? Dad’s children were now wanting, he could have stepped up to the plate, but he didn’t. I can only surmise as an adult why she hated him so much.

          He might have excused himself with the thought, ‘She left me for another man, let him carry the weight.’ But the weight was too heavy.

          Eventually Marius did less work on the farm & got not one job, but two. I don’t know when he slept. He even found a church to play the organ for Sunday Mass. Mom got a job at Brockway Glass Factory. She took us kids there once. Between the two of them & whatever Dad sent, we barely made ends meet.

 

                     The Next Man Improves Our Lifestyle

 

          When Mom broke up with Marius, there had to be another man, there’s always another man to provide. It turned out to be the Chevy salesman in Freehold. They went to buy a car, they bought a balloon for cheaps, which my dumb bro drove into a ditch in the field where it stayed. Then they got a decent car & I recall Marius teaching Mom to drive, & wow, was she daft. He says ‘turn left’ into our driveway & she turns into our wheat field where I feared her going into the 8’ deep garbage hole.

 

          Anyway, poor exhausted, maddened Marius is gone. First he was thrown out of the house & lived in the garage, then good bye. Now this old, paunchy man named Mr. Riley appears & starts visiting. Because of him our lifestyle improved. Here we now got central heating & all the windows replaced with storm windows. What a difference! The house was warm – no more wood furnace in the living room & coal/wood stove in the kitchen – Everything so convenient. And a big plus – hot water! How awful it is to live without hot water, how do you take a bath? No wonder Tibetans stink, no running water, no hot water, freezing climate.

 

         And so, despite all her talents at agriculture & homesteading, despite the great help from Marius, Mom could not cut it as a farmer & eventually got a job as a chef with the Salvation Army Retired Officers, & went from there to a life of gastro-success. Dad continued partially supporting us until the day I left the house & went to live with him.

          So much for living off the land. I sincerely believe it takes at least 3 strong & skillful adults to run a homestead or a farm. Two cannot do it. It’s just too hard. Yes you can try, but wow, will you suffer.

 

Channeling my Mom, who I call Mommy Fearest. My question: Mom, did I get it right about your intentions for this Homestead/farm? Explain in your own words.

MF: {Mommy Fearest} I wanted to find a place where I could be independent, support myself & the family with some help from Marius & your Dad. It was harder than I expected. No matter what I did, how hard I worked, I could not make money from it.

You said it right when you explained the marketing situation.

ME: How did you feel about Dad? Were you lying to him for two years & was it because you wanted to get the max amount of money from him, to keep his hopes up?

MF: You got that right; I had no intention of having him live with us. Picture it this way. I now have a new husband, Marius. I could lie to Dad about what went on because he was not in the house all the time. I could be with Marius when your Dad was at work. But now, he works at home, helping with the farm. And he sleeps with me in the bed.

How am I going to be with Marius unless I was practicing polyandry & they both agreed?

I could not have my cake & eat it too; it had to be one or the other. I didn’t love or desire your Dad any more. He turned me off, I wanted no part of him, but of course I wanted him to support the kids. This is mostly what we fought about. It was stressful lying to him for two years then in the end, the truth had to come out.

 

ME: Explain why you hated me so much.

 

MF: It wasn’t just because you loved your Dad. There were two other reasons. One was, you were sexy & desirable to men & they all asked about you & wanted you. So I was jealous. Besides that, you were virtuous, I was not. Those who are less than spiritual hate those who are, as it makes them feel inferior.

ME: From Heaven some months ago you appeared to me offering me something. I’m not sure what it was but I wasn’t that interested. Could you explain that more clearly as it’s nebulous to me, what you wanted?

 

MF: I wanted to tell you that I was sorry, to offer you my love from Heaven.

ME: I’m glad you’re sorry & I accept your love from Heaven, but I’m not keen on spending any time with you when I get there. I might say hello briefly, that is it. So you will understand.

 

MF: I do understand, I don’t deserve you wanting to spend any time with me there; you will have other things to do.

ME: Indeed, my ecstasy in Heaven & you don’t seem to blend. I am happy you were saved, of course, I would not wish Hell on anyone.

Now another question. Weren’t you ashamed at any time of trying to frame me for stealing Mr. Riley’s credit card?

MF: As you know, my personality, people like me – psychopaths – we have no shame. We just do what we want to do & that is it – no morals.

ME: OK Mom, over & out. Thanks for the good you did.

 

PS I recall an anecdote of where I was when finding out Mom had 6 months to live. I was at a theater in Providence, Rhode Island. It was a lonely, desolate place in a large building the owner owned where he had a sort of ‘entertainment center’ with room & billiards, only no one was in it except my two co stars & their ratchet boyfriends. And there were a few rooms – he gave me one of the best, it even had a phone. No one but I got the room with the phone, the ratchet fellows begged me to use it but I refused because it was then super expensive to do long distance, I was the caretaker of the phone, I did not want to incur an expense on the owner. But one of the creeps persuaded me it was an emergency & the call would be local. As soon as he dialed I knew he was a liar as he’d called his Mom in NY – he spoke in Spanish. He threw 5 buck at me, which I later gave to the owner. So maybe I overreacted.

 

Anyway I was told by a relative Mom had been diagnosed with 6 months to live – she got lung cancer. I always went to Church, including Holy Communion, at every place I worked – even if I had to go without sleep for early bird Services. In this location the Church was but a couple blocks away. Every day after the Matinee there was a service, & every day I went. After the service the place cleared out but I stayed one hour – as I usually did – for prayers.

 

Those prayers then went like so: Do Not let Mom go to Hell, I will pay for her sins. I received Holy Communion for her every day, said the rosary for her as well.

Years later I had a vision, where I saw her as an infant, dressed in blue & white with a blue & white bonnet, in a baby chair, chubby, bucolic. God said to me,

“Your offer to pay for her sins gave her the Grace to make a final repentance {while she was dying in the hospital}. She was saved from Hell because of it.”

ME: Mother God, did I pay for her sins?

MG: You paid for a lot of people’s sins, lol.

ME: No wonder life’s been so much fun. 

Below I can’t find the article spoken of, I have it in print files but can’t find in the scans, but here’s some articles from my dancing days – as you can read, they are making what I do into a joke.  Oh well, they say no publicity is bad publicity in show business.  And it says ‘West Warwick RI” so this might have been the theater only this is UPI – they contacted me – not the local paper I spoke about.

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          There were other anecdotes. The townspeople of Providence noticed my treks & presence in the Church each day. When the Providence paper interviewed me, they had me down as a saint – The name of the article ‘He said he saw an Angel.”

          The article referred to a local man who maybe worked at the station. He heard about me & asked God was I for real?

          That night he was awakened by a woman standing near his bed & she told him that I was ‘for real.’ Can’t recall her exact words or her description.

          And I have no idea who the lady was as she could have been the Holy Mary, a saint, an angel, or my God Self, but his prayer was answered.

 

          On the other side of the spectrum when I returned to New York I got a call from my Aunt needing help for something, to get my half sister to sign a paper regarding money from social security, which she refused to sign. I was to persuade her – she still strongly looked up to me – I practically raised her. So, that mission was accomplished.

          While there Aunt Dagmara {Ara} took me to see Mom at the hospital where she was dying. I asked her if I could pray for her, she said alright, & I did pray.

          On the way home in the car, Ara driving, she told me how dare you pray for your Mother? God will not hear you – YOU SELL YOUR BODY.

          She held a cigarette in her right hand & it was shaking from rage.

          I will now channel Aunt Ara. Ara, why were you in such a rage? Did you really believe I sold my body & God wouldn’t hear me?

 

          AA: {Aunt Ara} We were all ignorant fools & because of this & other reasons, most of us hurt you. Bringing it up is not pleasant for you. Do I apologize? You already know I’m in Heaven & so of course I see the error of my ways. How can our apologies help you now? God saved you from us; you saved yourself by loving God. Just be glad it all ended & you’re safe. You did not become an addict, derelict or failure because of what we did to you, God sustained you but we went to our graves as transgressors & paid for what we did.

 

          ME: Ara, how do you think my life story & movie of it will fare?

          AA: It will be a joke on us so to speak, because all we did will be like comedy, where Mommy Dearest took the wire hanger & screamed & beat Christina with it. We will be seen as shrews, ignorant bitches, abusers – mostly your Mom but I will get a piece of it. We will all become characters in your life story at whom people will twitter & wince, shake their heads, laugh & cry. Your pains will become your profits, & we gave you the material.

 

          ME to Mom: What do you now think of my life story & the subsequent movie/movies to be made?

 

          MF: {Mommy Fearest} You now look at us as clowns, which when much distance passes, the wounds are healed, we were. Ugly clowns who hurt people give some a big laugh, like WTF? What kind of human does that? You have more incidents of our absurdity than Carter’s got pills. But you lived through it all, all done, the past is gone, the future looks bright.

          What do I think of our future films or movies or TV stories? It’ll be a sensation. You will thrive. You will finally get the recognition you deserve, which no one gave you. Prior to this, when they interviewed you they often made fun of you, saying things like, ‘Her elevator doesn’t stop at the top.’ But now, when the entire spectrum of your life is shown, you will be a subject for college courses, book reviews, movie analyses & more books. You will be heralded all over the world for your activities & insights & us? Most of us will be in the lowest places in heaven. When you die your real happiness will begin, you’ve already seen your place & it is glorious, you can’t wait to go there again, it isn’t too long Yes, like Padre Pio said, life is so long. That’s how it feels to you you’ve suffered too long.

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          ME: OK Mommy Fearest, thanks for having us watch ‘Life is Worth Living’ with Bishop Fulton J. Sheen {now venerable} every week. As you know, the last 3 weeks of your Purgatory, he was with me & assisted me in your cleansing & rise up into Heaven So good works do pay off. Over & out.       {End Chapter 8}

 

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College of God & Love, College of Matriarchal Love, Core Tenets, Uncategorized

50 Souls lifted with Rev King!

 

We get FIFTY SOULS up on Rev King’s Day!

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1-17-22           This is about Rev. Martin Luther King Jr – it’s his feast day!  See

two other dreams below, both include Purgtory issues, one about my Lover

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I’m recalling this from yesterday. I go to an old haunt – the ‘Italian American Civil Rights League’ where I used to work. As I enter, I’m not a member of their club or clan, but I have permission to be here & I have been given – don’t know by whom – an apt below this level, which has an entrance in the far corner of this room – it’s just big enough for a person to lower themselves in & I suppose there’s a staircase or ladder. Once you go in the place it’s a nice apt, but I don’t actually see myself going in.

 

          *** {Apt I am given below, although I’m not a member of this org or club: This is my ability to enter Purgatory, which is a level below – given me by God.

          Looking for my wardrobe is looking for my lights or Anointings, {which are tools} which it seems some other workers have stolen. This might not be as bad as it sounds, I have a suspicious this is about a Great friend of Mine, Rev King, whose day this is. I’ve had a couple Souls in Heaven work with me before as partners – I recall Errol Flynn got his last wife & last girl friend – Beverly Aadland – into Heaven in partnership with me.

          This is a great revelation I did not see before until this moment. Here the Rev. King is in the next room – my Anointings symbolically are missing which means they are being used or someone else is performing with them. They are silver & gold, which are lights of great love. {see below} We shall see what happens.

          The men who are here on this level might be Purgatorial Souls as they are super ugly. To put it in other words, I am in Purgatory – there are various levels. I did not enter my spot on the lower level, I’m on this one, whatever it is. A couple guy here are not ready apparently to ascend, their souls are not clean enough, so they are ugly.} ***

 

          I am somehow concerned with the light grey standing wardrobe in this room which had my costumes for dancing – I’m supposed to perform. But the costumes are gone, all but one, the one left is a plain black low cut mini dress. {Symbol of funeral, Purgatory} The one I have at home has rhinestone strips but can’t recall if this one does. The dresses that are missing are glamorous, like maybe one all silver lame & the other gold – full length with see through robes – & I tell the men sitting here someone has stolen my costumes!

          I look at the men & tell them it isn’t them, it’s gotta’ be the other dancers, who are also booked to perform here. This is EXTREMELY UPSETTING.

          The two men I look at here against the wall on a sort of day bed are grotesque in ugliness. There’s a sense of yellowy skin & Afro frizzy long hair piled not hanging, but standing on their heads, both different but similar, they are like runts in their bodies, just ugly as can be.

          Then I’m sitting on some sort of day bed in the middle of this room & there are two males to my left & they are bowing to their knees, because a personage in the next room is going to walk past here on his way out.

          I ask them who the person is & a guy says,

          “They got the GOVERNOR to come out here!”

          Wow, I think, & I also bow in anticipation of honoring him.

          How did this little place ever get the governor to come out here? I look in the next room & see even though it’s not a big place, they did their best. They set up two huge banquet tables with all kinds of food I believe, each table can sit maybe 25 people – so in this medium room they got about 50 really serious people to honor & fete him, so that it was worth it for him to come out. In other words, it’s not quantity but quality of people honoring him.

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          *** {This is REMARKABLE & thank God I decided to type this out today as when I dreamed it yesterday I didn’t have a clue what it was about & this is wonderful beyond words.

          The governor is Rev King. He is here in Purgatory & so am I, although we’re in separate rooms. I’m in one room with a couple souls not ready to go up, another 2 persons, maybe souls, are sitting to my left bowing in anticipation of his coming by.

          I’m asking how on earth did you get such a big person to come down to Purgatory?

          And then I see what it is. Two banquet tables are the Love Feast or Holy Mass as well as acts of love, prayers, that were transmitted to the Souls. Rev. King USED MY ANOINTINGS – to partner with me in SETTING FREE THESE SOULS or having them rise up into Heaven.

          According to this it seems like we got a good number, 50 or more souls, to rise up into Heaven in honor of his Feast Day! Wow

          These are special clients of Dr King – his not mine – that’s why I’m not in the banquet room but I can see it. These are people who loved him or were dedicated to him! I am so thrilled!} ***

 

          He’s at the farther table his back to the wall, & wow, is his face hideous. Not only that, it has a fresh BULLET through his head.

          His face looks like that guy who was attacked by two runaway chimpanzees. They bit everything off his face – his nose, ears. They bite off anything that sticks out. And the guy’s face was all swelled up, you could hardly see his features. But the governors face is so swelled it’s even worse than that guy, it’s really swelled to 3 times, like sausages of flesh under his eyes, here & there, all these sausages of swelled flesh & that bullet hole. He’s talking to people.

 

          *** {His appearance: This bespeaks of his terrible sufferings & final martyrdom. His face destroyed, grotesque, is the calumny, insults, cruelty poured out upon him – his face is his identity – they are smearing his reputation or who he is. The wicked humans who did this were subhuman, like some chimpanzees. The bullet is of course the bullet he took.

          From Wikipedia: “The bullet entered through his right cheek, smashing his jaw,” – I never knew where the bullet/bullets entered his body & just now, a day after the dream, I looked at Wikipedia & find it was exactly as I saw it in the dream – in his cheek.} ***

 

          I am bowing then waiting for him to exit but he doesn’t come by. I look at the room & he & most people are gone. {Could be the few people still there might be the Guardian Angels of these people, who remain with them in Purgatory, but when they ascend, the job of the angels is over.}

          “Oh,” I said, “He went out the other exit.”

          I see another plain door going from that room he was in.

 

          *** {Room is empty – he exited out another door, his room, not the one I’m in. The Souls he ministered to her, in partnership with me, exited Purgatory into Heaven! Hallelujah!} ***

 

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1-18-22-Dreams: He Needs Me Bad – I Win in the end – Saint Martin Luther King Fete!

 

          I’m on the street at night standing next to a male dressed in black. His jacket looks like vinyl, loose, not tight, & a bit later I see it sticking out or buckling in the middle of his torso. It’s a casual jacket with zipper, thick, might have some kind of winter lining.

 

          *** {Man in black: I already know from a quick view of this dream this is my Beloved Bob. He is in the deepest depression re me! It can’t get any worse than black. Seeing it buckling or sticking out from his torso later indicates the heart so he’s broken hearted at us not being together.} ***

 

          I know this person but I have ignored him. He’s never asked me for anything, but this time he asks me to buy him a beer. He seems needy like, forlorn, not expecting me to pay attention to him or give him anything. He thinks I’m a busy/popular lady & I go to the bars having fun but I ignore him because he’s not worthy. This is the FIRST TIME HE REACHES OUT TO ME. I’m not sure if I find a beer some place & give him it but then he adds that it would be nice if in my busy schedule I could take him to the bar & buy him one or more beers there. Its closing time, not much time left, maybe half an hour, so there won’t be much drinking.

 

          *** {Buy him a beer or beers. First time he ever asked me for anything. The beer or alcohol represents inebriation or a feel good state. He’s asking me to make him feel good. The fact that he never asked me for anything before is because he never had to. It was always there & he took it for granted. Now he no longer takes it for granted. He realizes he has to do something to get back my love – or more precisely, to see a demonstration of my love which is affection & sex!

 

          Real life: Because of this dream I checked his social media – which I’ve not checked in a week. He wrote a poem that had some telling statements like so:

 71BLYEiUC8L._SX425_ H20776-L122741254 the-abduction-of-europa-noel-nicolas-coypel the-abduction-of-europa-jean-baptiste-marie-pierre 81O2H4eaXkL._SX425_ 1544_2 Noël-Nicolas_Coypel_-_The_Judgement_of_Paris,_1728

          “Make amends – better late than ever”

          “Where you been?”

          “Suicide for the things I did”

          “Trying to get in touch with you” me: {you have my # asshole}

          “You been with everybody” me: {You’re imagining things, it’s in your mind, not mine. I’ve been writing books. Haven’t been out in two years!}

          “I’ve got love four ya” me: {all it takes is repentance & make things right. Not just write poems, do something. I’m not chasing you any more.}

          “You play in the dark” me: {You imagine things. What I do is on my sites & Amazon books.}

          me: This can’t be about his live-in female, it’s about someone who isn’t there. She’s right there with him, he’s calling out to someone that’s missing. Wanting to see her. Thinking she’s with other men, thinking of regret over how he’s been, etc. Saying he loves her. So it’s about a female he loves, not his live in. Unless it’s someone else besides his female, it’s me, but if you look at my dreams as evidence, it’s me.          Mother God, add something:

          MG: Alright, it’s a beginning. He’s getting there slowly but surely. What will it take, emotional dynamite? He can’t get any more depressed this says. So get out of your depression by taking a chance, call the lady you love, try to make amends. Talk to her, not social media.

          You still have that fake wife. You have to do something about this – can’t have it both ways. Not like it used to be.} *** {End real life part & channeling}

         

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          Before I take one more step I see he’s holding a MUSICAL INSTRUMENT – of what kind, I don’t know. It’s large like a guitar, but it is in the form of a dull goldeny color, the surface worn here & there, underneath a hint of BLUE, & it’s a METAL FOLDING CHAIR that he’s holding folded up.

 

          *** {Musical instrument, folding chair, large:   Is his penis. He wants to make music or make love with me. Music sets a mood, a feeling, puts a person into a vibe. A chair is a position or seat. It’s a place he’s been occupying or a position he had with me as lover. But now it’s folded up or ended. I see blue where it’s worn out – this is sadness. Goldeny, now dull, is the love that was there.} ***

 

          It seems, without words, he’s asked me to stay at my apt for the night – which I share with another lady & a male – & for some reason he wants me to take his instrument there first & park it, then later we go there. Perhaps he didn’t want to take it into the bar, I don’t dwell on that.

 

          *** {Take it to my apt, he wants to spend the night there: It all happened in my apt – He’s asking to be with me again & make love. It’s all he thinks about as far as our relationship but I can no longer do this, in real life, unless we have a genuine, total relationship. He’s longing for our togetherness.

Who is the male & female I’m sharing this apt with? There are no humans living with me – the persons I relate to the most are Jesus & Holy Mary, so it must be them. I am in an exquisite relationship with them right now, saying many prayers & celebrating Holy Communion every day. And this apt is my wonderful present state of consciousness.

My Mom being missing is strange – that would be Mother God within me. This might be saying that when I defer to Jesus & Mary in constant worship I am in their consciousness rather than my own private ‘me & my God’ personal state.

It seems amusing that Jesus is concerned in this dream about Bob – like maybe He’s worried about falling down to his level again? But Holy Mary is not concerned, she knows everything is alright, I won’t fall down again.

Myself wondering where to put him in my apt or consciousness? Somewhere more remote from a higher or lower place? Across from my God Self? In the end I opt for a room fairly intimate, as we share the same rest room. I was afraid it might be too close, but I’m taking that chance. What does this mean? I accept him because he’s reached out to me for th first time – into a fairly intimate state. Not 100%, which would be the same room, but close.

The empty bedrooms in this apt being so cozy, so private, so comfortable & delightful, is the spiritual state I am in & offering to share with my Beloved.} ***

 

          As we walk toward the bar area, where we’ll stop at the corner & the bar is to the right {everything is blackish around us, no colors of any kind anywhere, a feeling of the streets or buildings glistening from a rain}

 

*** {the rain, everything black: His state, crying tears & depression.} ***

 

– my apt is across the street – a thin man stops us. He’s an enemy of this guy & he wants to DISCOURAGE ME from being nice to him. He says something negative, then he disappears like walking through the door & wall to the right. His clothing is he has on a fitted leather jacket that is sort of RUST with some kind of pink hue seeming to radiate from underneath the hem of it, the pants are maybe a dull mustard – it’s vague, but they’re not black, just a dull but matching color. The feeling is he’s dressed like a ‘dandy’ but I tell the young guy,

          “He’s YOUR ENEMY.”

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          *** {‘dandy’ guy: The demonic trying to stop me from loving Bob, perhaps reminding me when Bob was a Casanova the time we were together. He’s anti-Christ, anti forgiveness, & the fact that he goes through walls means he’s spiritual, not a living person. He’s reminding me of the women Bob teased me with like talking to them, giving them his phone & asking them to call him while with me, he refused to give his phone. Things like that which were cruel made me feel great pain – rust is when things get old – he’s reminding me fo the past. The pink hue is vagina. But this is today, not then. I’m not going to hold on to yesterday’s pain when there’s repentance on his part. It’s a temptation.} ***

 

          I then want to immediately attend to putting the guy’s instrument into my apt & prepare him to be there the night. I see there is my apt, then one beneath it & above it. Where shall I put him? At first I was going to put him in one of the other apts, but then I reconsider & think my place is so huge, has so many beds, it’s wonderful, so why not let him be here? {At least 6 bedrooms}

          To the left of this extended apt I see my male roommate who is kind of hovering as if in the air observing me, concerned. Past him is my Mom’s room – who’s absent right now visiting somewhere. Across from her room is a wonderful out-of-the-way bedroom. These bedrooms tucked away in corners are so neat. The beds are low, they are double & have thick rumpled comforters in nice colors & prints. They are totally private, out of the way, like you could be there & no one notices you. But I decide not to put him in this room & look to the opposite side.

          On the opposite side is an almost identical room & what’s different is that here its right by the bathroom I would also use. It kind of makes him closer to my protection. It seems I was so distant to this guy but suddenly I changed into this – because he reached out to me I guess. The lady who shares this place is approx in the middle of the apt in front of me – having this other guy here doesn’t catch her attention. I don’t see any more after this.

          MEANING: This dream is about his repentance & reaching out to me, & my acceptance, putting him into a good place in my consciousness.

 

1-17-22—Casanova betrays me but I win in the end

 

          This was yesterday – let’s see how well I remember.

          There’s a tall, attractive young man I’m talking to who I tell,

          “I can make you a star….there are ways….but you must cooperate.”

          I’m not sure I really want to go to the trouble of all the work it takes to make a person famous, I’m considering it. Perhaps I’m waiting for his reaction to see if he’ll cooperate or appreciate it, but nothing is forthcoming. He’s neutral, like he thinks,

“OK, maybe she can or can’t. But I’m not going to do anything about it”

& he doesn’t. So he fails that test.

 

Next we’re out in the street, & its daylight, a nice day – a broad horizon. He’s wearing a white t shirt & white Bermuda shorts & carrying a basketball.

 

*** {Handsome guy I make an offer to but he fails to cooperate. Then he’s in the streets with a ball: This reviews how Bob & I were long ago, when I hoped to help him in a career, but he did nothing to help himself or work with me to help him so it failed.

Instead he worked the streets ‘playing’ or ‘balling.} ***

 

He meets one young lady who wants him because of his looks, then another. I see like two separate incidents. Each time he passes the ball to a male friend & goes to make love – the second time not one but two females want him, he passes the ball again to a male friend & goes to make love to them.

 

The next scene I am talking to him & his skin is darker than before. He’s still wearing white, sitting down leaning forward & listening to me. I explain to him I don’t judge him about the two females because I’ve done it with two males. In fact, last time I had two guys in tow – college age – I was so drunk I fell hard & dislocated my hip – & now my dancing days are over, etc….What I didn’t like was another item but I’m not sure what. Was it passing the ball, being deceptive?

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*** {Passing the ball: Not sure what this means but I’m guessing if the ball is balling, he’s lying about the sex he did – says another guy did it, does this twice – being deceptive, as if another guy did the balling, not him.} ***

 

In the next scene there is something like this: I have a boyfriend, but I’m also interested in the guy mentioned but don’t want him to know, & he’s hanging out at this apt that I now visit. The one I am visiting suspects me of having another boyfriend but he isn’t sure.

 

*** {The guy I desire plus I have another boyfriend: Is one & the same guy. He suspects, imagines I have another one & I let him think what he wants. This is part of the ‘game of love’ because he’s playing games, so was I.} ***

 

To get into this place there’s a window higher up & a landing in front of it, covered with some cups & glasses. I have to go on all fours over this white partition & enter the apt, & there I sit down with a lady friend to my left. The guy I desire is sitting left, there’s a few of the local hoods hanging here – 6 or 7. I might add the apt is rather sparse, not like it was before.

 

I sit there smiling, then say that I must go see what my bf Mike has to say & I exit. When I go to the street I stand in front of a bar or some place but he’s nowhere around.

 

I return to the apt & at some point I’m telling this guy how even though I can’t dance any more I am flexible as anything. To prove it I stand up & hoist one of my legs up to the ceiling.

As I do so, to my surprise there’s an audience of both males & females, we are IN A NEW PLACE & all these people APPLAUD WARMLY. I’m so pleased I do it again with the other leg, everyone again applauds warmly & I see a female in particular smiling at me. She’s wearing blue, is middle aged. All these people are good people, not like the guy I’m infatuated with & his crowd. Then I decide to go all out & I dance gracefully & beautifully & move down the room like I’m center stage, floor level, & there are more people surrounding the room farther down, all sitting. I dance & even arise into the air & completely go around in the air & land softly on my feet & the music hits a crescendo – mellow music – & I stop with a perfect step to the end & everyone applauds.

I was wearing a top that was very loose on the bottom – it’s translucent & you can see my body through it, the rest of it is translucent also & I’m not sure what kind of shoes I have on, maybe heels. But it seems it wasn’t only my dancing, it was my body they could see as the light shined through my outfit & I have a perfect body. The scene with the guys just evaporates.

 

*** {The new place: I’m no longer in the old consciousness where I was hanging out downtown as a Cougar, obsessed/in crazy love with Bob. I am now keeping to myself, celibate, writing my life story & ministering to Souls in Purgatory.

This is a place where I am greatly appreciated. People are applauding. They could be those who read my articles about Purgatory, & the Holy Souls themselves, which is totally different than the Purgatory Bob & the people downtown put me into. It’s the difference between being miserable, being abused, &being loved – Hell vs Heaven.

My outfit being see through & they seem to be amazed at my body {they see the breasts especially which is love} as much as the dance, represents my spiritual state as well as ‘performing’ or acting out rituals of love, like the Holy Mass & praying. Possibly the spot where I rise into the air & go around in it without touching the ground is the Holy Mass or Martyrdom – that act of Our Lord being the most difficult, & I recreate it.} ***

 

c4BuZTg images (30) dce8693b71ee06332f358229f410cad2 cat-dog Funny Kitten GIF • Kitten annoying patient Dad chewing his ears. Play with me! Funny Kitten GIF • Crazy kitty ready to fight in a weird position! Brave and fearful at the same time [ok-cats.com]

         

         

College of Matriarchal Love, Core Tenets, Uncategorized

Escape Torture 4 Prosperity & Paradise

Chapter 7    Grandma – Germany

Escape Torture, Embrace Prosperity & Paradise    written 1/16/22 

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          When we moved to Middletown I was 15; there were 4 bedrooms. Instead of giving me my own room, which anyone would desire, Mom kept one room EMPTY rather than let me have it. Situated in between her room & mine, it was as plain as could be & unless the door was closed you could see into it from the middle floor {split level house had 3 levels} so it wasn’t a great room, but it was a room.

          Her excuse why I could not have it, shoved into a bunk bed with an 8 yr old? It was ‘for Grandma’ she said. How often did Grandma stay with us? Twice in my lifetime for a month.

         Upon her visit to Middletown, occupying that precious room, she sort of ‘cracked up’ almost crying & said she could not stand how Mom & I were & demanded a reconciliation, & forced us to face one another give a hug & tell us we loved one another.

          For me the touch of Mommy Fearest was an ordeal. How would you like to hug someone you know hates you & wants you dead?

          We both went through the motions – Mom had to obey her Mom, me—what else could I do?

          But did it help? Was it what was needed? Of course not.

          What was needed was for Grandma to check into the situation, ask some questions & see why the cold silence. Why would two people not speak to each other?

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          And so, Grandma was looking at the surface of things – that we were silent. But she pulled the same stunt the rest of the adults did – ignore the elephant in the room. As I explained before, I had a Dad who supposedly loved me, who was deserted. I begged to live with him since age 10 – I said I felt suicidal – but he insisted I had to stay with Mom. It’s a long story told elsewhere. There was Auntie Ara, Mom’s sister, who could have figuredwhat was what, but she sided with Mom. And my Uncle, who knew the truth, only once in our lifetime said one sentence to support me, that Mom did not do right by me, but nothing else to anyone else. So no one – not one human in my life – alleviated her abuse, some added to it. {That includes counselors at school she fooled, & I had no way of defending myself, I simply could not articulate the situation.}

I shall channel, first my Mother God. What was the rhyme or reason behind Grandma’s forced reconciliation?

          MG: {Mother God} You were ‘at war’ with your Mother, but it was she who assaulted you, you explained elsewhere how she made a pact with your brother & another soul to help her ‘control’ you – which meant demoralize you, make you a pauper.

          You reacted as any human, after multiple assaults you stopped trying to be nice. She only spoke in the negative, between that there was silence. One could ask why? You explained before it was to do with Dad. The rage she had for him was turned on you.

          Grandma was a witness to hostility, she wanted it stopped. Go ahead & ask her why.

 

          ME: Grandma what was it about?

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          GRANDMA: I saw & felt the coldness & it was an icy wind blowing through the house; I wanted it stopped for my own comfort. No, I did not question you or her, no, I did not dig deep. Yes I knew Regina was some sort of a psychopath, she was my child.

          I was the one who told you she was like that from day one. She had to have control over things, & if not, there was revenge. She tried to break up your Aunt & Uncle by paying a girl to seduce him. She said she would ‘fix her up like a doll’ with a new wardrobe & accessories. Except it didn’t work & Uncle Henry hated her from then on in.

         

          ME: Did you have any idea that Mom was abusing me & her reasons for it? Did you suspect but chose to ignore it anyway?

 

          GRANDMA: Of course I suspected there was more to the drama. It’s obvious there were reasons. But I chose not to dig for my mental safety, just wanted to read my Russian newspaper & dream of other places, help with the dinner, bear out my time in the Circus until I could escape & go back to the paradise of North Salem {her daughter Dagmar & Uncle Henry.}

 

          ME: OK so now you’re in Heaven & you must tell the truth. Aren’t you sorry you didn’t help me? My sore point is that none of the adults helped. That adds salt to the wounds. Weren’t you being selfish?

 

          GRANDMA: I wasn’t a firebrand like you. I was a nice person, but that was it. I was more worried about the boy next door trying to feel your breasts than the pain in your heart. I was shallow, like 99% of all people; I was not a saint, a healer, a do-gooder or activist. I wanted to be left alone & live without conflict, at least in my old age.

 

          ME: On Grandma’s side I can imagine why she wanted no drama. Her eight brothers were killed by the Bolsheviks {the fought with the Czar, Bolsheviks were Communists} & her husband was assassinated in their own home. They fled to Germany, were displaced persons & lived in a camp, & were lucky to passage to America. So that’s enough stress for one lifetime. But does one’s own past pains make them impervious to those of others?

 

          GRANDMA: I’m sorry I didn’t help, but I wasn’t capable.

 

          ME: What you did was put a band aid on a wound that was festering, that needed air. You didn’t help heal it, not a word. You didn’t even comfort me against her, you just wanted that fake truce.

         {Is this how women where men are abusing the children, they just let it go, let it be? Sometimes they don’t see it but they suspect, & instead of digging they turn their back. So abuse goes on & on.}

          She mentioned the boy who was trying to feel my breasts. When we moved to that home there was a neighbor with a boy a year younger than me. Being horny like all young males he tried to get to know me. There was a small tree behind our house; he climbed it to see inside my bedroom window. I caught him one day looking outside – that was before I knew him. Somehow we met.

          Yes, we had a garage & yes, we were there alone, Grandma was in the bottom living room where there was a door to it. Every time the boy & I dallied he tried to feel my breasts. And over & over again she opened the door exclaiming,

          “What are you two doing in there?”

          Hanky panky, of course. Old women have been through the deal again & again. Young people think they invented sex but it was old hat right after Adam & Eve.

{A pet peeve of mine on that is the elders of our society are obsessed with preventing sex. Let teens do what they do. OK, pregnancies occur. In Matriarchal days it didn’t matter. Look at the Mosuos in China, a Matriarchal society, where the males visit the female – then go home in the morning. It’s called ‘Walk-in marriage.’ If any child is born, it stays with the Mom’s family. The men are not the leaders of the family but they do have 2nd place. To me, this system works. But here it’s convoluted & so, everyone is up to their gills when a female is on the road to sex because the system is hard on her. It forces marriage from guys who don’t want it – & many women are abandoned, alone, left to poverty – as what do you expect? A woman having a child/children but also having to work full time to support them? How could that be? That’s why our Patriarchal society is filled with orphanages, that’s why the old days of England, the streets were full of ‘waifs,’ thousands of homeless kids, begging, stealing, suffering in the streets.

I just might add here that affection & sex is healing/ comforting. In a Matriarchal setting as described, there is no punishment for affection & sex – It is taken as a natural, inevitable process – the man leaves in the morning, the children are cared for – no poverty, no waifs in the street.

 

Grandma’s Early Life

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I only knew Grandma as an older lady & she acted the part. Her hair was always in a bun – not because she wanted to look like Grandma Moses but because she had Asian hair to her waist, thick like that, & a bun works. But coupled with the kind of dowdy clothes she wore, she wasn’t a Grandma you take to a posh restaurant & walk in proudly. When she was young she was I am guessing, {she told me she wore tight skirts in the Edwardian era, so tight they split & Grandpa yelled at her for that} attractive & glamorous, but now she looked like a ‘Babushka,’ older women in Eastern Europe who gain weight, wear ugly clothes & a kerchief over their heads. Never do they wear anything stylish or glamorous nor do they ever show their bodies – it’s tradition to look like this. My Aunt Ara once complained of this, that she sometimes wished Grandma would make herself more appealing like the neighbor lady they had. {She dressed smart & her husband made a serious pass at me when I was 14 – already mentioned elsewhere. In the car he was sitting to my right, he got a hardon & put my hand on it, Uncle Henry was driving, he could see it, his wife & Aunt Ara were in the back. Henry said nothing, I did nothing, nothing was ever said……}

 

This is how she met Grandpa – Vincas Bytautas {so she became Bytautiene}. He wanted to be a doctor, but when he attended medical school in Poland, the guys looked down on him for being Lithuanian – as Poles had this pride thing where they were ‘superior’ – yes, they had more educational opportunities. {One time under Vytautas the Great King we conquered Poland, then we were ‘mightier’, but now Poland was bigger & ‘better’ than us}. So that made him quit medical school. Thin skin I guess.

 

During the WWI he joined the Red Cross & drove a truck into Russia. His second wife was with him – the first had died. They met Grandma Luba at a medical facility. The wife was pregnant & died in child birth {not sure what happened to that child} & he & Luba thereafter got married, his third wife.

Luba then moved to Lithuania & adjusted to a new language & country {She was great at our language & foods – many flour & potato dishes, like ‘Kugelis’ *Uncle Henry’s fave, it’s finely grated potatoes which turn into ‘mush’ in a casserole with bits of bacon* & Raviolis with meat or cheese – but the Russian culture remained close to her heart. I learned Russian words from her. She never learned one word of English. Not sure what she achieved with the German language while they were there about 5 years {Mom & Dad were OK with it, he read to me from ‘Grimm’s fairy tales in German & translated it into Lithuanian – he also read to us from advanced Lithuanian story books.}

By the way, we did not have a ‘hard time’ in Germany even though war was on. Our family was given the management of a German hotel way out in the country – my Aunt said ‘we did everything.’ I imagine bed making, cooking, cleaning, laundry, errands. This began a lifetime of ‘service’ & minimum-wage jobs for Mom & Dagmar – they got off their elite horses in Lithuania except in their minds they remained superior no matter what {not Dad or Grandma, they were humble}. The hotel workers became Mom, her sister ‘Ara,’ Grandma & Dad – Uncle Henry was with the allied army as a chauffer. Aunt Ara said it was an older lady who owned the hotel; our presence took the weight off her back.

And Ara told me the food was great – no shortages. A disciple I used to call in Germany told me that the Nazis stole the food from countries they occupied & sent it to the native country. I guess that showed up on the store shelves. 

 Below:  Grandma, Aunt Ara age 15, Dad, Mom age 17, Grandpa Vincent…2nd:  Mom, Dad, Me, Grandma me age 7…#3d:  me in Ritzy Waccabuc where Ara, Henry & Grandma lived & were employed…4th:  The boat Gran came here on with Ara & Henry, see Henry in the middle with a checkered shirt

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Grandma came to America on a separate boat than us – she was always with Ara & Henry –they had no children – by now my Mom & Dad had three. They got themselves a different sponsor to the US – as I mentioned in other books, a millionaire lady named Mrs. Grant, who owned Otis Elevators, in Waccabuc wanted them as servants. Ara managed the mansion housework & two boys, Henry took care of the grounds, horses & did maintenance & repairs {he was a genius at many things from horse shoeing to plumbing to construction. He built a small house as a birthday present for one of the sons, named Riddy, – for which he was paid in today’s money, 2k – & later built a 2 car garage, a superb stone-fenced in driveway & second floor on the small house they bought in North Salem NY – Mrs. Grant furnished it from their area of the mansion, it was 1930’s muted ‘art deco’ of sorts, exquisite. When Ara furnished the new upstairs it was hideous. The bedroom with a psychedelic rug of 6 bright colors, the living room no ambiance, Danish style bare-assed furniture I hated.}

 

I might add a couple things here. Grandma obviously helped with the household chores, as I recall her teaching me the proper way to fold towels, which Mrs. Grant taught her, I assume. I’ve folded towels that way ever since. Hold the towel the long way, fold over each side part way, & then fold it in half to hang on the rack.

 

Our Life in Germany – the Hotel & Clara Kaiser

 

There was a lady who got friendly with Uncle Henry, her chauffer, who sponsored him, Ara & Gran to the US. Here’s her obit:

 

New York Times obituary Nov 4, 1983

Dr Clara A Kaiser dies at 87

 

* Dr. Clara A. Kaiser, a former teacher and acting dean of the Columbia University School of Social Work, died Tuesday from burns she suffered in an accident several weeks ago at her home in Stamford, Conn. She was 87 years old.

Dr. Kaiser joined the faculty of the New York School of Social Work in 1935 and was appointed a professor five years later. The school later became affiliated with Columbia. She served as acting dean from 1958 to 1960, when she was named professor emeritus.

Dr. Kaiser was born in Rochester. She received bachelor’s degrees from the University of Rochester and the New York School of Social Work, and a doctorate from OhioStateUniversity. She was one of the first professors of group services at Western ReserveUniversity in Cleveland, and became a leader in the theory and practice of social group work, a method based on democratic group action.

At the end of World War II, Dr. Kaiser went to Germany for the World Y.M.- Y.W.C.A. Service to work with displaced persons. Later, she was a consultant in education and cultural affairs to the United States Military Government there. * 

Below, Mom & Dad 

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Mom’s Road to Success

 

Let me add this: Clara Kaiser also got my Mom on the road to solvency. She was working as a waitress at Thorn’s Milk Bar, a place several members of our family worked, including myself for a time. That was all the professional experience she had. But on the recommendation of Dr. Kaiser, she was awarded a job as Head Chef of the Salvation Army Retired Officer’s Residence, & this got her started on later working for Stouffers, High School Cafeteria manager, & last but not least, manager of the Reader’s Digest plant in Pleasantville, NY. She had great talent & put her nose to it, learning to master recipes of all nations. At the Reader’s Digest Guest House, which she managed, she served the then Governor John D. Rockefeller, who said to o her,

“One of the best meals I ever ate.”

This man had charm. I had a mentor explained in Part 3, Rev. Judy Swaggart, who also met him & yakked a lot – & he said to her,

“I like the way you talk.”

Bottom line – who you know, who gives you a push, means a lot. Talent is one step, but without connections or some kind of exposure, it doesn’t move. Because of Clara Kaiser, my family gained great advantages. {The influence of Mrs. Grant, her Victorian mansion, Waccabuc, the two sons, the older of whom I later had an affair with, inspired me for the rest of my life – that opportunity came from Ms Kaiser – & as I said, she gave Mom a career start years later}…..Mom died knowing she had achieved success in spite of hardships.

 

Traits I Got from my Kin

 

A question occurs to me, am I a chip off the old block? In some ways, I am. I gained from the good of both parents, hopefully not the bad. Let me ask Mother God. “In what way do I resemble my parents?”

 

MG {Mother God within me}: The main thing you got from your Mom – definitely not her cruelty – you have none – but what you did get was her persistence in work, & talent in an artistic way. Her floristry, which she did mail order, she was good at. She was a genius at agriculture; flowers, fruits, veggies, picking mushrooms in the woods, you name it. She knew how to preserve, can, dry, produce all that she gathered, including milking the cow & making all kinds cheeses {you churned the butter}. She knew how to cook from day one & improved tremendously, studying cook books & practicing. She was ambitious to the degree she was able. She joined the ‘Book of the Month Club’ for English, & spoke it fairly well. {Unlike poor Dad who was terrible at English, I believe because he was 17 years older than Mom, was anchored to the old country & its goodness, forever wanting to somehow go back, did not embrace the new world like Mom did.} So from Mom it seems you got an artistic flair & the habit of hard work. 

Below, house where Dad grew up in Lithuania – Store Grandpa owned in Lithuania – Aunt Ara, me, Mom & Dad when we arrived here 1949 – My passport photo, I was almost 5

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As for Dad, he was a consummate intellectual, Mom said he was the smartest man she’d ever known. You recall in B’klyn him sitting at his desk for hours plodding through Polish & Lithuanian books, translating one to the other, writing poetry, studying history in 3 languages.

He was a ‘community leader’ & pubic speaker – they all looked up to him.

He was also a hard worker {geared more to intellectual work on a steady basis but he loved to dabble on the farm! You recall hours of him in the fields & the woods. He took the lingonberry bushes, separating big ones into many smaller ones, as had to be done, to propagate new berries. He was in the swamp working on a ditch with Marius, planning a pond for the future Boy Scouts!}

He liked to have company on all feasts & he & Mom put out the red carpet for friends, every Holiday the table had dozens of gorgeous dishes, wine &whiskey, lots of gay chatter in Lithuanian, everyone having a good time, love for all. {You tried to recreate this when you moved to your house, inviting anyone & everyone to the table, with limited success, as the people were vastly different.}

You got his intellectual habits, here you are sitting for hours a day writing books – as of 2021 written & published 25 books! You never went anywhere ‘on the road’ dancing without a book in possession, you read & studied hours a day your entire life.

You also spoke publicly, mostly as the ‘Stripper for God’ where you gave sermons before dancing. Dad’s example gave a start. Dad was committed to the cause of Lithuania being free of Communism & enlarging their culture, you are dedicated to saving the world from Patriarchy to Matriarchy.

Yes you got lots from both parents.

 

ME: What if anything did I get from Grandma?

 

MG: You got her body. She was shapely & athletic when she was young. Her body was better than your Mom’s. You also got that Asian strain due to her, which gave you the edge of being ‘exotic’ in your career.

She was also feisty; remember when she told you how she started an insurrection in her school? In those days one’s respect for teachers was sacrosanct; your Dad showed you that. When teacher entered the room, students stood up. {Look at the movie ‘The Blue Angel,’ Dietrich’s first big hit, the Professor/student relationship. This is how it was in all of Europe}. Students never talked back. And so, when one female teacher addressed your Grandma, ‘Dura’ which means stupid in Russian, she stood up & said,

“I’m not Dura, I’m Luba!”

At that outburst all the girls in the class stood up & marched out, & other classes who saw this also followed.

It wasn’t held against her as later she became the Head Mistress of that school.

You are also feisty as you stand up to authority in favor of human rights. So you got plenty from her……{end channeling}

 

Memories of Germany

  Below, Displaced Person’s Camps in Germany we stayed at before our departure {this was not days, weeks or months.  Prior to that we ran a hotel & had a good life.}

 

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I also might mention little memories in Germany – not many as I was a month from my 5th birthday when we came here.

The hotel we worked & lived in – recall being invited to the rooms of a lady, for a snack. As I sat at their table, a bit nervous, the lady reassuring me I was safe – a puppy was nipping at my socks, & I still recall vividly how dramatic that was! This hotel had maybe 3 floors, I know I was up high some place.

I recall also walking with Dad through stone quarries, holding his hand. It seems appropriate that when I bought a house in upstate NY it hearkened to many memories of the past. There is a large stone quarry nearby which I frequented with my dogs. There is a birch tree glade on my property – Dad lovingly spoke of the birches in Lithuania – I see them in pics. {My house is on the same latitude as Lithuania – same frigid winters!} And all over my lawn is Sorrel which Mom & Grandma had us pick bags of for daily soup {in Germany}. Best soup then, best soup now.

I also believe I was molested by one of the members of that hotel – maybe by a soldier as Mom told me an anecdote about soldiers, how she yelled at them for having grenades on a kitchen table & she brushed them off – a no-no obviously as they could explode.

My reason for saying this is when I’m sitting & a man stands around me, like my web man for instance – where his dick is about the same height as my face – it gives me the creepiest uncomfortable feeling. So I wonder if in my pre-memory years a man made me suck his dick where I was short, he was tall, or I was sitting, he was standing. So the memory is gone but the creepiness lingers.

I also recall loving Ara & Henry so much – one time they wee visiting but it was time for them to go. I begged them to stay to no avail, so I went behind the jeep & held onto the bumper with all my might, even as they took off. Everyone screamed for Henry to stop – I did not let go. Bloody knees resulted, I’m glad there are no scars as my dancing & modeling career could have been affected. 

Dad, middle, back, at the University of Vilnius

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So my family came to the US on the SS Heintzelman in 1949 & my Aunt, Uncle & Grandma were on a separate boat. Not sure which was first.

 

Grandma lived with us one month of that year in Middletown {I was only there less than a year when I transited to Dad} & I never got that spare room.

 

Their Abuse Intensifies

 

For me, Middletown seemed to hurt even more than Freehold, because my slave services were no longer needed. I was slightly more tolerated or left alone, it seemed, because I did their share of the work, while they worked outside the house & made money. I was given no allowance & was not supported with new clothes, anything extra, just room & board & work. In the Farm off Eli Harmony Rd we had animals, later all gone but dogs – so it fell to me to 100% care of the dogs, who never came into the house but had to suffer on chains. {It broke my heart when Mom no longer bought dog food – they had to be fed scraps, & sometimes there weren’t many. One of them, a cocker spaniel mix, I think caught the rats under the shed, as there were plenty every night – he never ate the meager scraps.}

{It is amazing to me that no matter how abused or neglected or starved dogs are, they still love us & never become revengeful. They simply don’t know they are being abused.

I might add to that I didn’t know I was being abused. I tried so hard to please Mom, I never put 2 & 2 together. This happens to a lot of abused kids I am told. They think it’s their fault, like what did they do wrong?

For much of my life I tried hard to please Mom, I worked & worked, but nothing I did could stop her from hating me. Why didn’t I catch on? Because there was no distance between myself & the Mother/child bond, it took many years to step away, look back & see what was what. I just felt demoralized, defeated & bewildered like why am I being persecuted? What can I do to fix it? Some relationships you can’t fix – you have to walk away. The thing that would ‘fix’ her from hating me was I had to hate & denounce Dad, & that was impossible.

In Middletown there was much less work to be done so I was sort of like ‘extra weight’ to them. The house & furniture were new, easy to clean. No animals. They treated me, under Mom’s auspices, like I was un-necessary baggage, I was then good for one thing: ridicule & abuse. I was the whipping post, a thing to vent their spleen on, to project all their hateful feelings when they felt like it, all three spit their spleen on me & smirked while doing it. 

Leave Torment – Receive Prosperity & Paradise

 

RasaScansSept020 RasaScansSept021 RasaScansSept022 RasaScansSept023 RasaScansSept024 RasaScansSept025 RasaScansSept026 RasaScansSept027 

At sixteen I lived with Dad for a year, then escaped to my destiny – Hollywood & show business – & later upon my return, in 1972, age 27, my daughter & I lived with Dad.

 

Dad had moved out of the apt around 1974 & moved to Torrevieja, Spain, with his new Puerto Rican wife, where he lived happily ever after & died in 1979, months after Mom’s demise. When he passed I took a trip there & stayed a couple weeks with his wife, thank God I got his archives, they are present here.

  Mom & Aunt Ara at the upstairs Uncle Henry built to their small house – it even had a second kitchen {what the heck for?}  I did not like Ara’s new furnishings, she didn’t have Mrs. Grant’s Waccabuc taste.  What year is this?  I guess around 1977.

RasaScansSept220 RasaScansSept222 

In 1986 I started a video business & made the most money I ever had – to my standards I was rich – saved 200k quickly & in 1989 bought my paradise upstate NY {where I am now} – split-level yard with creek below, apple trees on top, a swamp & wilderness with glades of fir & birch trees – 500’ of riverfront & a 5 acre island all my own! I commuted between those two places a couple years before I moved out of Williamsburg, B’klyn 1991. {At that time it was just started to turn from slum to artistic community. It had started long before as fashionable, my building was built then – 356 S.1st St. between Hooper & Keap – & the apt’s that weren’t ruined had good features. But then the middle class moved out & poverty reigned. But someone decided this would be the next Greenwich Village & while I was still there they remodeled all the dingy little parks & started upgrading & uploading stores with higher-class goods. The poor moved out, the stylish moved in, & I was gone. I have not had occasion to visit there again, but people tell me of it.   {End Chapter 7}

 

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College of God & Love, Core Tenets, Uncategorized

Young Blonde Male Ascends

1-11-22       Young Male Blonde Delivered! I am taken to the abodes of many souls that were delivered!

  thYYWC70W4

Mysterious dream I suspect is about Purgatory & at least one soul being delivered, & maybe a retrospect about a whole neighborhood of souls that were taken into Heaven by my Masses – which I either did not record the dreams {I was busy} or else I did not realize dreams were showing me they had been delivered.

 

This responds to my frustration that the last over two months I have not had any knowledge of souls being delivered, although I’ve said Mass every day for two months & ten days. Usually, in the past, there were 5-10 or more souls delivered every month through the Masses.

 

I go to a place where there are two young male roommates, a blonde & a brunette. They both seem to be early 20s.

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*** {Roommates in Purgatory means they had something in common, like knowing each other or having a similar lifestyle. I have had this happen before – Rojer, a gay guy who died of AIDS, appeared at the same time as Rudolf Nureyev, the famous ballet dancer who also died of AIDS. Then there was Frank Sinatra & Dean Martin, buddies from show business, appeared at the same time. It does not mean their duration of cleansing will be the same, however.

Being blonde or brunette might not mean anything in particular, just a way of telling them apart. Or maybe in life their hair was like that. Being young males could mean they were.} ***  

I enter their premises, which seems to be a nice apartment, later I see it’s really large. They show me around room to room. After a while I see a balcony & ask them about it, & we go there. It’s not deep, it extends a few feet off the building, but it’s quite long – maybe 10 or more feet. There seems to be a pink hue here & the banister is very plain.

 

*** {Their premises is the state of Purgatory they are experiencing. From the description it is not a place of great suffering, it’s an intermediate place where one is not far from being delivered.

The balcony could be a vantage point or vision on why the brunette is not yet ready for deliverance. The pink hue might be females.} ***

To my surprise the brunette dons some sort of Halloween outfit, with maybe a top hat like Abe Lincoln wore, & a short black cape which only covers the shoulders – the look is like playing a character. This male then sees what might be a staircase & he starts to go on it but slips, & falls all the way down to the ground, but isn’t hurt – the stairs became a grey slide somehow. And below him I see a couple dozen people dressed just like him with those little black capes, male & female, I see they are ordinary looking & at least one female is overweight & much of her bare body is exposed in spite of the costume.

I see this as some sort of an organization, like fellowship & I tell the young man something like,

“Oh, you & your friends are alike, all wearing the same outfits, & you keep each other company, so life is not as isolated or lonely.”

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*** {This outfit & grey slide give me the reason he isn’t ready for deliverance yet. He is attached to people – he’s in the company of other males & females all of whom are attached to each other & sex, afraid to be alone & lonely. The black top hat & cape are the clothes of a ‘dandy’ or one who like to go out partying – at least, so they dressed in the old days.

The grey slide shows that the mind, when desiring these things, slides down quickly away from spiritual liberty. When one dies & still has these or any other kind of attachments they stay in Purgatory until these are cleansed.} ***

 

I then attend to the young blonde, who is handsome.

 

*** {Who is handsome: This denotes spiritual beauty. He’s ready to be delivered, almost there. The more we are cleansed, the more beautiful we become – our souls are pure God, which is total beauty. The result of sin blocks this beauty, like dark clouds on glass, but once removed, you see God.} ***

 

We just visit for a while & I’m hoping he’d want to make love to me, but he doesn’t do anything. He’s cheerful, though; he just doesn’t say or do much. I keep wondering if I should make a move, but somehow, I don’t think I should unless he shows some interest. We were both sitting on a mat on the inside, near the balcony.

 

So I say to him, which is dropping a hint,

“Well, I guess I better be going, as you are probably busy. Myself, I have nothing to do & life is kind of alone & lonely…..well, I better go.”

Usually, if a male has you alone & is planning to make a move, when you say you’re leaving, he will proceed, not wanting to lose the chance.

We immediately appear in his bedroom, which is revealing. First, the room is so huge & has no furniture or anything in it except this strange, small mattress which we both appear on. The mattress is narrower on one side, wider on the other, not big, just enough for two people to sit on. It’s shape is like that of a guitar or violin body & on it are medium stripes encircling it in dark colors like dull black, brown, medium brown, maybe dull maroon.

 

When we sort of ‘landed’ here he was next to me on his back, which is a submissive posture, & I had been thinking the whole time how much I wanted to kiss him, should I?

But before that happens I look at the room, & the floor is maybe 20-25’ across, & 30’ long, & is littered with stuff that I can’t describe. It’s like twigs & leaves or dried out pine needles, but not that nice as it doesn’t seem organic, some kind of litter. The floor is wood.

I say to him,

“I see you’ve not had a woman’s touch round here & I could turn this place into a paradise.

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*** {The trick I pulled on him, that I was leaving, worked. When I said I was leaving I was encouraging him to submit himself to my spiritual love – & he did.

In the next moment we are transported to his bedroom, on his mattress & he’s on his back, which shows he’s ready. I then see the state of his soul, the litter or what needs to be removed. His mattress shows stripes of various sufferings – all these dark hues like black, brown & maroon, show suffering. His sufferings have led him to surrender to God. When I speak of paradise, momentarily he will be transported there. The kiss & the making love represent the Sacred Kiss & the deliverance from this world to Heaven.} ***

 

Now there seems to be a change into another scene we are in – everything becomes lighter {in his apt it was not bright} & we are outside in a bright place & I vaguely see around us, tropical plants. Then our faces are close to each other & I am wearing thick red lipstick & I am kissing him! Yes I did worry about smearing this lipstick onto him & maybe he did to, but somehow, it doesn’t matter.

I should add – I didn’t explain before – when I wanted to kiss him it was only a preliminary to making love. I felt we should make love for some reason. But I was seeking his willingness to do so, did not want to be forceful.

I believe this kiss tells me my ‘mission’ was accomplished. His face looks bright & beautiful as I kiss him.

 

*** {We are now in another place. As soon as I spoke of paradise I am kissing him & this scene says I have transmitted to him the Grace he needed for Ascension.

Thick bright red lipstick I’m worried about smearing, maybe he is too: Hard to understand. All I can think of it’s not normal or natural – it’s Supernatural & here it is not a normal kiss or love making, it’s Supernatural Anointing Power.

An important factor was that he had to be submissive to this – had to want it. The brunette was not ready to submit – he was still holding on to human attachments, but the blonde was.} ***

 

Now things change. I leave this apt, go out into the street. As I look back to it is night & the building looks dark, although it’s attractive. I walk away a bit & then want to go back, but can’t find it.

 

*** {Can’t find it: In a sense, it isn’t there. The ‘address’ of a soul in Purgatory changes as their spiritual state does. Once they ascend, they don’t live there any more, the state is not there. I might add here, it isn’t easy to access souls in Purgatory, it has to be an Anointing, which is won through love. You have to really love them a lot to contact them. I worked at having contact with the through constant prayer.} ***

 

Instead, I decide to explore the city since I’m here anyway. As I walk I am astonished by the beauty of the buildings, all next to one another – they are houses in a city. Many of the houses have walls right up to the sidewalks. Everything is white – walls are white, the houses are white, only the vegetation is green & the frames of windows & doors are something dark so you can see them. The houses have railings, maybe silver. Each house has flowers, flowering vines, all the houses are right next to each other, no space in between, & so well kept & beautiful I think,

“This looks like everyone here is wealthy. And this is amazing since our world has so much poverty, yet to have places like this one must have wealth – so many wealthy people!’

There is one flower that is here a lot that strikes my attention. I see it in front of the white walls on the left. Each house that has these kind of white stucco walls they also have these super-tall flowers on thick stalks, with huge mostly pink blossoms on top, like a combination of tulip & lily, but wider, each blossom being about 6” across & just as tall. They’re pink with white stripes. I see these flowers again & again, they are especially decorative walls & I think,

“Wow, this neighborhood wants to be really beautiful. They could have left those white walls plain, it wasn’t necessary to plant these flowers. And yet they planted them there as extra special beauty.”

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*** {Beautiful, wealthy neighborhood: Is Heaven. This answers my prayer of why aren’t the souls appearing to me as a result of the Masses I’ve said every day for a while? This shows me they have Ascended – look how beautiful are their dwellings!

The white is the purity; everything being light & bright is the dazzling Light they are in. The flowers & greens are symbols of love - & the tall pink & white bulb-style plants against the walls, which are a special additions – represent the celibacy many of these souls went through or their detachment from sex, which is a special added grace for some of the souls.

The wealth is spiritual prosperity or abundance, the area is neat, clean & perfect, which is Heaven.

I might add that the reason they appear next to each other, no space hardly in between, is the Masses were day after day & God is saying to me that the souls were lifted day after day. I just wasn’t aware of it then.} ***

 

I keep walking & this neighborhood goes on for what seems like miles. Finally the city has ended. As I pass through the last beautiful street I see wide open spaces, & way before me, someone is excavating ground & building a huge building with many compartments – it’s like raw clay, very wide, I see the compartments inside of clay which will be worked on. Other things are going on. This is the end of my quest & I move away from here, going back. I actually don’t want to be here. There’s also some kind of SLIDE here like an escalator but much taller, faster, more dangerous, going way way down – I was viewing this area from the air like a drone – & I don’t want to get caught walking & go down that slide.

 

*** {This other area is not Heaven, it’s the normal world, & I don’t want to get caught on that slide which gets attached to things of the earth – I want to get away from this area pronto.} ***

 

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