What is planning? Standing up in the void, looking around to see where I am, throwing a line into the future, pinning it down, pulling myself forward along it, then being tackled by a football player

5:09 AM 5/14/2017

I am absolutely, 100% under the influence of drug residues, because I absolutely could not have thought of this insight any other way. This is a bizarre and temporary way of thinking which will never happen again, as soon as the drug residues are washed off. I also noticed that I was planning to go to vocational school, only when I was covered in drug residues from Chris. I also have Jesse’s drug residues on me, too, and I don’t know what those drugs are, because he visited me and I hugged him, and told him I have trichomoniasis. He was very nice about it. So, we did not have sex.

I felt as guilty as though we did have sex, because he asked me, if we had sex, would I tell his girlfriend? I said no, I wouldn’t, and I knew that if I hadn’t had an STD I would have had sex with him. So it was just as if I actually had done it, and then, as if I would have to lie when questioned, as his girlfriend does know who I am and knows my phone number. I could only tell the truth, which would be, ‘We didn’t have sex, but it was only because I have trichomoniasis.’

This isn’t the insight I was referring to that was bizarre that will never happen again. I don’t want to take drugs, and so I would rather live a life without these sorts of insights, because all the drugs that cause it are so extremely harmful to life that it is not worth it.

I woke up and began to think about planning and to-do lists and scheduling. But I ended up writing in my notebook about all the reasons why I can’t plan. I know from 42 years of experience that I can’t plan, yet desperately need to.

I used to get time management books, years ago. I want to do that again. I really want to think about time management. This is probably my socionic role function, Ni, although I don’t know if it’s the plus sign or minus sign. This is the equivalent of David Wilcock learning how to do martial arts to defend himself, which is Se, his role function. These are things that it’s really beneficial to learn how to do, and yet they are not valued functions within the quadra. So you only learn to do them at a two-dimensional level: norms and experience. They are weak, but you can be complimented on how well you do this role function, and you feel really awesome if someone compliments you on how well you do it. That is how the role function works.

The insight: I was meditating, trying to do some sort of EFT tapping about the fact that I can’t plan. I was affirming ‘I can plan,’ and then trying to tap or massage the locations that had anxiety (physical pain, clenching muscles in my abdomen). No matter how much I do this, it doesn’t go away. Then I get mind controlled and attacked; however, since I am on somebody’s drug residues, the voices that constantly murmur in a nonstop stream are quieter than usual. It could be Jack’s drugs too – he’s on some kind of ‘happy pill.’ Jack is Aunt Jean’s boyfriend, and I hugged him.

As I sat there, mindlessly repeating the gibberish meaningless words ‘I can plan’ without understanding them, without absorbing them, without connecting them to anything at all, I then asked myself, ‘What is the meaning of the word “plan?”‘ Or rather, I was asked by a benevolent helper.

So I had to define the word ‘plan.’ But I was not going to use a verbal dictionary definition. This was a brief, magical moment when my brain was able to do the magic it was meant to be able to do. I don’t know which drug residue enabled me to temporarily be able to do this again. I can’t do this thing anymore and haven’t been able to do it in decades.

I said, ‘Planning is…’ and then I attempted to perform a ‘plan’ action, and then I said, ‘…throwing a line into the future, stapling it down, and walking along it.’ You throw this line out from your body. It has to be stapled down. It’s like mountain climbing into the future, which is ahead of you. Neurolinguistic programming has a book called ‘Time Line Therapy,’ which I read years ago, but I don’t have the book because of the decontamination where I threw away all my belongings.

While I am mountain climbing into the future, throwing a line ahead, pinning it down, then pulling myself along it, there are these things that happen. A football player tackles me sideways, ripping up the line that was pinned down and knocking me off spinning into the void, because I am surrounded by a huge black void of nothing, and I become totally lost in the void, with no plan, no rope, nothing pinned down in place, and have to start all over. These football players are not merely ‘unplanned events’ or ‘distractions,’ although that is part of what they are. For me, they are electronic mind control.

But usually, I am not allowed to even get as far as the moment of throwing a line into the future. I don’t know why I’m allowed to do that again for a brief moment tonight, and probably never again for years. It has to be some kind of drug residues on my skin, which will be washed off, and they will be on the clothes until the laundry is done. I usually cannot even focus enough to throw out the line ahead of me, because the football players are tackling me the instant I start to even do the throw.

The entire plan of my life must consist of building a shield to protect against electronic weapon attacks and ambient radio background noise, because I cannot plan otherwise, and my entire life is an absolute waste due to the fact that I cannot plan.

In a silent world where I am not being tackled by soul murderers, I would be able to throw these lines out a much longer distance, and they would remain in place when I pinned them down. I would also be able to pin another line out from the place where the first line was pinned down, so that it would be a series of pinned down lines into the void of the future.

All of this magic has been utterly destroyed by the electronic weapon attacks, and I am aware that it will soon vanish and never happen to me again, probably when I take a shower, and if I do the laundry. It is absolutely only because of someone’s drug residues; yet I will not use those drugs, because when I take any drugs at all, no matter what they are, even something as benign as the herbal St. John’s Wort, several things happen: I become totally mind controlled and I do crazy things that the soul murderers force me to do, and I also become sexually aroused and preoccupied with sex constantly, and I do inappropriate behaviors, and have a constant fake happiness which is tiresome and boring.

Drugs are absolutely not what I want. What I want is freedom from constant electronic weapon attacks. I want freedom from the murmuring voice that never stops whispering in my head and prevents me from thinking. I want freedom from the tacklers who knock me into the void as soon as I am able to throw a line into the future, or before I can even throw the line, as I am standing there. They tackle me the instant I try to stand up and look around to see where I am, actually. I try to look into the void to see where I am, and they tackle me.

All of this is some form of astral projection, which I am not allowed to do. It is using the electromagnetic energy of my brain and my nervous system to reach outwards into the electromagnetic environment, in the space and the ether around me. Everyone needs to be able to do this. It is magic. It is what makes us human and alive. Someone might say that this is some other type of energy and not just mundane electromagnetic energy – that’s fine with me – I don’t have enough knowledge to say what all the different kinds of energy in the universe are. It’s just energy, all lumped together.

This is the magic that I used to do when I was a young child, before the electronic weapon attacks began, and probably also before we were universally surrounded by so much radio background noise as we are nowadays. All of it is real. This magic really exists.

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