Opening The Book of Disclosures to everyone

I spent two and a half hours meditating this afternoon, to prepare myself to fill out two pieces of paper, a job application. I know I spent two and a half hours, because I set the stopwatch on my phone. I did not have any major insights today, which suggests that yesterday’s insights probably came from other people who were off work on Sunday and doing church-related activities, such as providing synthetic telepathy for prayer-makers in need. They’re all too busy on Monday, and nobody prays on Monday, so I don’t get any major insights when I meditate on Monday. I’m only half joking about this. I have noticed in reality that my mind control attacks are often less severe on holidays, as though even mind control victims are allowed to get a reprieve on Christmas.

Today, when I went out walking, when I rode the bus into town to drop off my application, I went to Westerly Parkway where I lived in 2014 and 2015. I lived in that general part of town during the time when I knew Jesse. I lived on Mt. Nittany when I first met him at Taco Bell, but I moved into the Chinese Apartment in 2014 and was close enough to him that he could walk over to my house. Then I went to Mary Jo’s house, which was also nearby on that street.

I remembered Max, my little gray cat. He was a selfish bastard who didn’t love me, he only wanted the food. But I loved him anyway. I would let him go out and he would run around, and then he would wait in the bushes at the house across the street. When I came home from work, I’d call for him and he’d run out of the bushes to come over and get his food. ‘Ungrateful,’ that was the word I was looking for. He was a wild little cat. I loved him and accepted him for what he was, instead of blaming him for being a wild little cat. I wanted a cat door so he could come and go as he pleased, but it wasn’t my house and I couldn’t do things like make cat doors, while living with a lady who didn’t want her own cat to go outside.

I got thrown out of her house and I went to live in the woods at Walnut Springs Park. I took Max and Jacob with me. I let them out. Jacob was neutered and declawed, so he was too timid to ever wander, and he stayed nearby and survived. Max was intact, not declawed and not neutered, so he tended to wander. I wanted him that way. I want all cats to be that way. But I don’t want them to get hit by cars. I want them to live in places where the highways are far, far, far away, so far away that they never get hit by cars. So I lost Max.

I remember him every time I walk through that neighborhood where I lived at Mary Jo’s.

I’ve been having a reaction to unknown substances, and need to do a decon and get some clean clothes. Something has intermittently been putting me into a strange, sad, bad mood. I was like that today. I wandered around in the Westerly Parkway area where I used to live, thinking about Max, feeling the pain of his loss, while knowing I don’t want to get another cat either, not until I have a good place to put them.

And I also remembered the pain of Jesse. Jesse, who I thought was my socionic dual for a long time, but eventually decided, or was persuaded by the voices, that he was what’s called an ‘illusionary’ or ‘mirage’ type, or some people call it the ‘contrary’ type, I think – there are a couple different names for it. Basically, I’m a SLI and he’s an SEE. They look like your dual, but over time, you find out that there’s sort of a barrier that the two of you can’t really get past. You can love each other, and Jesse and I do love each other, but there is something that keeps us from getting completely into each other the way we are supposed to. We can’t help each other enough. We can’t easily make decisions together or cooperate together as well as we ought to.

So when I think of him, when I remember the past couple years of knowing him, meeting him at the end of 2013, in December, struggling to befriend him, but finally succeeding, then losing him again to the army – I remember these years, and that location where we lived, with pain and nostalgia, with a feeling that it was wonderful, but also sad and incomplete. I loved living there. I was happy there. I was happy being just down the street from Jesse.

But at the same time, we never got to spend enough time together, and I wasn’t 100% welcome at his house, not completely. His family accepted me just a tiny bit reluctantly. They were nice to me, but with just a little bit of reserve. I’m 20 years older than he is, and, in spite of not knowing socionics, most people instinctively feel who is most compatible with them, and who is not, and surely, they feel that I am an outsider in their family somehow in a way they can’t explain. I’m different from them, just a little bit.

They’re also a lot more Christian than I am. I’m officially an atheist, but I am also officially a spiritual person who meditates and thinks about stuff like the human soul, and I am also officially the one and only existing member of a religion called Anaya, which will die with me unless I create disciples.

I wandered to the little wetland thing across from Weis Market, and I picked a branch of St. John’s Wort growing behind a bench, which I knew was there because I had seen it blooming before. It’s perennial, so it will always grow there. I nibbled two leaves off it. It’s very weak. I think St. John’s Wort doesn’t produce a lot of poison if it’s living in comfortable conditions, and we’ve had lots of rain, and that plant growing there must be having an easy life right now, so it doesn’t feel the need to produce a whole lot of toxins to protect it from grazing animals. It doesn’t feel threatened. So I barely got any medicinal effect from it, but just a little bit. I was already in a strange, sad, nostalgic mood before then.

I bought some conditioner at Weis because other stores don’t have that particular brand of conditioner, and then, I knew I had to get home sometime, although I really wanted to keep wandering around the area, musing and remembering things, grieving for Max, grieving for Jesse, remembering the time I spent there, remembering how I was happy, yet still not quite happy, how I enjoyed the time but yet did not quite have everything I wanted – it was happiness, with a hole in it, but it was still happiness. I’ve had that happen before. Happiness, but with something missing. I guess I was happier than usual when I lived in that area, near Jesse. I was happier than usual. For a couple years.

I rode the bus and had to sit a while waiting to transfer to the next bus. I watched the swallows flying overhead. They were not barn swallows, my favorite kind – they were the other kind that don’t have a V-shaped tail. I’m not sure what they’re called – it might be ‘tree swallows.’ They don’t fly as gracefully as the barn swallow, which is a beautiful blue color with orange underneath, and blue and orange are both my favorite colors, and they have the V-shaped tail, and narrow wings which enable them to turn suddenly. Still, I watched the other swallows, whatever kind they are, the ones that fly above the town.

I had been influenced by the St. John’s Wort after all, because I remembered a lifelong dream, which was to fly with my own wings under my own power. I don’t want a jet pack. I don’t want to merely glide with a hang glider. I want to actually flap my wings like a bird and control where I’m going, and I want to fly silently without some noisy engine setting me on fire and making me lose control and crash into the ground at 50 mph.

I realized that people would say the exact same things that they said about the magnet powered motor: they would say it breaks the laws of physics. They would say all these reasons why it can’t be done. I have come to understand that these people are brainwashed trolls, even if they are doing it by accident, even if they don’t realize they are brainwashed trolls enforcing conformity. I think I know which socionic personality type they often are, too.

I know I’ve heard all the arguments before. We don’t have
human-powered flapping-wing flight because… fill in the blank. The wings would have to be a hundred feet long to lift something as heavy as a human. It breaks the laws of physics, blah blah blah. Yes, yes, yes. I know.

All of those things are irrelevant and have nothing to do with the reason why we don’t have readily available human powered flight with flapping wings. We don’t have that because nobody has committed themselves to doing it, and if they ever succeeded, the information did not get shared with us, and nobody finished troubleshooting it to make it safe for everyone to use, and the monopolists who make the laws and the people who control which products get sold in the store decided that they didn’t want us to live in a world where individual people were able to just flap their wings and fly wherever and whenever they wanted. I’m sure it exists somewhere though. Somebody has done it.

If you look up this kind of thing, you will find youtube videos of people who did make some kind of homemade flying machine, then died after using it a few times. There was one traumatic video where the guy had a camera attached to the underside of the wing to film himself flying, and there he was, going along, when suddenly his safety belt snapped and disconnected for no reason, just because it wasn’t hooked on strongly enough, and he was hanging on the bar with his hands while moving really fast and blowing in the wind, and he couldn’t hang on, and he let go and fell and died. You couldn’t see the actual death in the video because the glider just flew on without him, but the person who posted the video said that he died. They retrieved the video from the crashed vehicle.

I thought about disclosure. Supposedly, the human race is only ‘ready,’ quote unquote, to receive just a few tiny drops of disclosure at a time. But I disagree. I think we are ready just fine to receive the whole thing at once. We will get the entire book of disclosure. It will be a huge, gigantic set of books, not just one giant book sitting on a pedestal, but a whole library of books that size. They will open the warehouse where they put the wooden box containing the Ark of the Covenant in Indiana Jones’s Raiders of the Lost Ark. Anyone will be able to just walk into that warehouse and pick a box off the shelf, take it home, and see what kind of surprise is inside.

So we will get, for instance, individual flying machines. People will start flying them around and annoying everyone, but don’t worry, you’ll be able to retaliate using your newly disclosed Laser Beam Weapons to shoot them down. But don’t worry about civil war with everybody running around shooting each other, because they will have also released the Cure For Death and also the Individual Local Non-Paradoxical Time Machine, so you can go back in time a couple minutes to fix whatever you screwed up, without worrying that you’re causing contradictions that will distort the spacetime continuum.

In all these huge books of disclosure, there will be tons and tons and tons of junk. Garbage. Stuff that nobody bothered to disclose because it just didn’t work very well. They did have an individual flapping flying device, but it barely worked at all and the last person who used it died in it. That failed machine is sitting in the warehouse in one of the wooden boxes, not really implemented, but not really discarded either.

So we have this overwhelming crapload of disclosure in the Total Disclosure Library, but only a tiny percentage of it is really useful and interesting. There are a few things that everybody wants to know, such as ‘Are we being visited by aliens in UFOs?’ and ‘Where is the cure for cancer?’ and ‘Can I go back in time?’ and so on. And ‘I want to teleport myself to Hawaii.’

But then, for every big popular disclosure like those, there are hundreds and hundreds of not-so-interesting, not-so-useful
disclosures, which can only be appreciated by people who are knowledgeable enough to understand what they even mean. They’re so technical, with so much minutiae, that they just don’t mean anything to the average person. All these esoteric disclosures will come along with the big ones. And you have to hunt through hundreds and hundreds of lines and pages in the library of disclosures to find anything that you can even understand or apply right away.

So, what happens when they open all these books is, nothing at all. The people who have power now will still have power, just like after Edward Snowden. Snowden disclosed something to us, but the people who had power then haven’t lost any power, and the world continues to be exactly as it was before Snowden disclosed anything.

Anytime something is disclosed, it still has to be found, and understood, and appreciated, by someone knowledgeable enough to realize what it is and what it’s useful for, someone who knows a guy or girl who would want to have this thing. You might see it in the book, but draw a total blank, not knowing what the heck it means or who on earth would ever want to know this, or why would anybody ever want to do that, or what could that thing ever be useful for. It’s an overwhelming amount of information.

So there will have to be Disclosure Salesmen and Disclosure
Investigators and Disclosure Interpreters and Disclosurologists who are constantly reading the books and deciding what is interesting and useful, and what isn’t, and seeking out the people who would want to know about it, and getting the venture capital to make a factory that will make this thing. Just merely disclosing stuff and opening all the books doesn’t make all these inventions magically appear in your living room that very evening. You still have to wait years for the factories to start producing them, and only after somebody somewhere realized this was valuable and worth doing. And if your factory is making something, then somebody needs to give it to a distributor to get it all over the place. And if you aren’t advertising it on mainstream television, then it could be really great but nobody even knows it exists.

Or people could know it exists and they’re buying it on the small scale, when what we really need is for someone to do it on the large scale, like free energy machines. Sure, individual people are making various sorts of machines, by themselves. But what we really need is for those machines to be scaled up so that they can run an entire apartment complex or an entire skyscraper building, and somebody needs to sell those systems to the people who build the buildings. That means you have to figure out who it is that designs and builds a skyscraper or an apartment complex, and you have to be a salesman and tell them that they don’t want to use a normal electrical power line, or a normal propane tank for the stove, or a normal oil heater, but instead they want the entire apartment or skyscraper to use the Free Energy System instead.

And guess what, even after Full Disclosure, with Open Books, the Open Library, and the Open Indiana Jones Ark of the Covenant Warehouse, the people who build the apartment complexes will STILL refuse to switch over to using free energy machines in their apartment buildings, just because they don’t want to do something abnormal that nobody else is doing that hasn’t been done before.

Disclosures take a very, very long time to trickle around through society. That is the reason why I believe we should not hesitate, but should instead just open the entire book and do a full disclosure of all the stuff that the government is keeping secret, right now, today, because in reality, it will have hardly any impact at all for a very, very long time. For the vast majority of people, life will just go on as usual like it always does, and they’ll be more worried about working at their jobs and paying the bills and raising their kids than they are about a big giant library of technical stuff and secrets and incriminating emails from politicians. Full Disclosure, and Total Implementation In Everybody’s Backyard Right Now, are two entirely different things.

2 Responses to “Opening The Book of Disclosures to everyone”

  1. Anonymous Says:

    what the hell

  2. Nicole Says:

    Yes? Is there a problem?

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