Month: August 2018

www.youtube.com/watch

Nope. In the old towns, do NOT open your doors to witches at night.

I want a tattoo, too. For my heritage.

Dear diary,

I’m coughing up clear mucous from post nasal drippings that was lodged in my lungs. My left ear hole has been bothering me as I continually pressurize and re-pressurize from coughing or blowing stuff outta my mouth and nose, respectively.

I discovered that for the Pending Comments, if I wanna Like a Comment, the Comment must be approved. And if I wanna place a Comment that has already been Liked into Pending Comment mode, the Like is removed!

So Dad bade me good night and went upstair to sleep. I better get going so I could wake up to attend morning mass, now that I feel much better. But I really don’t wanna hang out with him because he has such bad behaviors! He continues to be late for morning mass and I do NOT like walking in during the sermons. He doesn’t get it!

Yeah so while humanz are working hard to live on this planet while animalz still struggle to survive for free, I’m going nowhere and I’m gonna be stuck like this for the next twenty years. By then I’ve already passed on. Dad will last another twenty years because his mom passed on at the age of 92. His dad passed on at the age of 75, I think, due to smoking and receiving lung cancer.

And to live that long, one much eat normally, moderately, and healthy. Exercising is good but I don’t to that much standing up anyway, being locked in front of the computer or sitting down behind the wheel. The potential job requires us to stand while punching data into the computer. That’s for the first half of the gig; with the other half driving stuff to different location. My dad feels driving trucks is dangerous.

I’m ashamed but Dad’s are VERY perceptive and protective. It’s the women that drive them nuts. I’m sorry. But as a female, this is true. Do NOT doubt unto moi. The women are driven nuts further when the male counterparts are stubborn assholes. I know. Because I’ve observed it at home and out in the public. The men have no choice. The women are in control. Brouhaha!

Sincerely,

Flynn B overheating again despite the indoor temperature being on or about 75 degrees Fahrenheit.

https://ourspiritualworld.blogspot.com/2018/08/animals-have-souls-yes.html

Gee! I was waiting a VERY long time for you to mention that animalz have souls!

If animalz can display emotions – anger, pain, happiness, and derp, than yeah animalz have souls. And the humanz who shepherd them better NOT defile them, meaning no fornication, no abuse, no neglect, no hunger, no starvation, no killing, no hunting (due to that ‘right to life’), and no other bad stuff, period.

So the other day, I did have yet another ‘subtle’ thought about animalz and humanz and soulz – which y’all probably picked up prior to my thinking such stuff. And I was wondering if animalz can derp, poop, and eat like humanz, who are like animalz, creatures created by God, then yeah they all have living soulz.

And love connects such creatures to each other – no fornication, of course. For example, Mister Mel displays such loving affection unto moi, that the other two babies are wondering why he is a such species traitor, meaning he’s connecting unnaturally to humanz by throwing up and offering kisses!

Yeah so maybe we all should stop butchering, hunting, killing, and sacrificing animalz unnecessarily unto judgment day when y’all who are into strange ritualz will end up into the great Void. Count on it! That’s the word ‘VOID’.

Sincerely,

Flynn B full of dinner: Brussel spouts, canned sardines in tomato sauce, steamed white rice, leftover sandwich from Jersey Mike’s Subs, and fresh watermelon from Dad’s backyard.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yeshua

Dear Lawd Gawd,

I quickly read the meaning of ‘Yeshua’, who is simply known as Jesus. Based on the English words in the article, he is a ‘rescuer’, a ‘deliverer’, and a ‘savior’. Jesus has answered the call to duty, which is for those who are crying for help and those who are crying to be saved.

Yeah, so that’s how God exists – through your own recognition of being ‘present’ for each other, especially for the sons of God, through Adam via mankind, whose bloodline does exist in humanized form.

I’ve picked up the incoming thought that the sons of God can come as rich and as poor, or as anyone you do NOT seem to like, a homeless person, for example. So I think everyone has the opportunity to be nice but also be wise in your affairs.

Anyway, I’ve done today’s job interview. I liked the inside but the humanz are rather normal. The distance, however, is too far. Dad said the travel time is too far; although we’ve traveled as far as our local airfield over the last four decades.

Now Dad doesn’t want to shop at the DeCA because he thinks the groceries are cheaper near our area. I don’t blame him because now that Mom is gone we don’t eat that much.

Our refrigerator is spacious, with only three “GO-AT” slim cartoons of milk, two LONG plastic containers filled with Dad’s watermelon harvest, two loaves of bread, a few small containers of white rices, four Naked nutritious drinks, and other condiments, such as salad dressings and butter.

Our freezer is still full of four frozen bags of okra; two bags of frozen dumplings for soup; one frozen HUGE lasagna, one frozen pizza; one bag of frozen mixed seafood bits; and leftover pork neck bones for Sinigang soup base dish, and one container oxtails.

So that’s our life. We plan on loosing more weight.

20180827-1947. Dad said it’s time to eat. Bon appetite! I don’t think I got the job because the head hunter hasn’t returned my call and I do NOT care anymore. I’m gonna have take good care of Dad now. Y’all know what I mean.

Sincerely,

Flynn B with you. And also with y’all!

http://ourspiritualworld.blogspot.com/2018/08/portal-guardians.html

Dear diary,

I love these inspiring stories! That’s why I like to follow these tasty breadcrumbs: it’s spiritually fulfilling! I hope other young souls who may reading your weblogs or reading my rants would understand what is going on with you and your life. I hope other young souls can help you and your family, too.

A few days ago on 8/17, Dad and I picked up a piece of paper, which was stamped with a Date Issued By August 16, 2018. And as I slowly read over the stuff, I noticed something in Box 116. The license number has 666, though Box 115 is a Catholic! I kid y’all not! The triple digit value seems Biblical in reference.

Also, I noticed that our Funeral Arranger has a name variation of the word ‘light’. He is Mexican. But I thought his name and the funeral home were Italians. So it’s difficult to tell or judge the nationality and ethnicity of any human based on a name or physiological traits. Dad would always asks these humanz: “Where are you from?” Dad refuses to stop asking humanz these questions, in which responses are voluntary.

“If you are reading this, you may in fact be called to action. To serve the Most High in battle. Maybe.”

Friends – I have none. Mom, my best friend is gone. Now I have Dad a new, yet annoying friend. Mister Mel the parakeet and other humanz may be my friends. But only Mister Mel is nice enough to acknowledge my presence and is happy enough to play with me. Sheesh.

Employment – I used to serve Mom. Now I serve Dad. Sheesh. (Oh, I’ve not had real employment or a good paying job since 2007!)

The words ‘shadow banned on the internet’ are new to me. I’ll research the definitions later on. But I prefer anonymity online for my blog of usual rants. I don’t like to rock my sane boat either.

I noticed that crazy drivers on the road seem to cut me off or that I seem to cut them off. I’ve been driving slower and slowly due to head pressure (I told y’all to cut it out that night of receiving your emails regarding my car); and congestion in the sinus and lungs.

My parents are my lifesaver and are YOUR lifelines! Do NOT ever forget that piece of truth. Now that Mom is gone, I only have Dad for support. We never did go on vacations because our hearts are at home. When we took a couple of airplane trips back to the PI, a relative would pass away; so we decided to stop traveling. My old clothes were Made by Mom. The furnishings are old, too.

I think Respondent living directly adjacent to us appeared last Wednesday morning prior to leaving the funeral home to our local church. I saw a familiar maroon colored Dodge caravan, which sports a black leather wrap over the front headlights and hood for reference. Her license plate changed to: “hand – Duh – New York – hate – oh – hand”. Whosoever is telling her to avoid the law is Satanic and Evil.

My extended family has avoided us after our growing years of birthday parties. My Dad still refuses to talk to his siblings. Mom’s relatives didn’t show up, except the eldest of four of her late brother’s children. My brother knew he would show up., but he wondered why he didn’t talk much with us. Dad wanted to tell him why didn’t he show up while Mom was alive but he held back his tongue. My brother said there is no point in them showing up because they would only contribute to Mom’s pain and suffering.

In the past, we were wondering why our tires seems to go flat. We were thinking the second husband (who filed the first RO against Respondent living directly adjacent to us) was spilling nails near our driveway; since he was a handy man. I don’t know about the GPS trackers, which I feel is for my safety and proof of my whereabouts. I noticed that my gasoline seems to dwindle fast before I got my sensors REPLACED!

I wonder if Buddhists are Satanists since they do NOT believe in Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior. Our area is mostly Asians. A nice mansion was turned into their temple. I noticed recently that instead offering food and drink to their reddish demonic statues, they would use a pink fleshy human images. But my brother said that one major road means something in Russia. Our neighborhood once had a strong Russian population.

Well, three nights ago after Thursday evening’s choir rehearsal and while scanning and archiving the envelopes, cards, checks and cash from the vigil and funeral, I heard several FAST moving swoosh and LOW humming law enforcement vehicles give chase on MY long stretch of road going northbound. The coppers do NOT bother us.

As for the alphabet soup agencies, I know they are buzzing around an Old Soul, who told me so. But because of his fidelity with hanging around important folks, he’s a happy and trustworthy soul. The only theft was my time and effort to do better stuff in life.

Regarding your stuff for survival. I think we are all spending way beyond our means and I do NOT like that. So for you to have anything to do with frightful and scary stuff against their dark work, wait, reverses what you are trying to do, only good stuff and as allowed by YHVH. Oh, okay. It’s like what I have observed in the past while watching and listening to mainstream ad nauseam news media – reversing stuff and confusing humanz. I see.

Why take a flight, when y’all can take a hike? Sorry, I just had to rhyme! Das Squirrel does NOT like to travel by plane. But if he really wants to go somewhere, he does fly away. I’ve NOT taken any flights on my own, because I’m broke and obviously I’m supposed to do something else with my stash. Duh.

So after Thursday evening’s choir rehearsal and en route homebound, lo and behold, my possible implants may have triggered yet another blackout on one street light lamp. I wanted to see if driving farther along my usual route would trigger other streetlight lamp blackouts, but it only happens once. It must be my active imagination. I do NOT know if my new zapper by DG is supposed to work against these implants.

I would hate to say it – but as I’m trying to understand and “read in between the lines”, my incoming thought indicated that stuff happens on many levels (like peeling away layers of an onion) and that stuff with all the monitors is just looking out for your best interest – to ensure you are tracked and monitored at all times and that you just do NOT simply disappear. I think y’all are way too important NOT to be noticed and I’d hate to say it, admired.

Ah, yes! Your former life! Did you enjoy whatever you could possibly want? Maybe you needed to be reminded that “God is your shepherd and there is NOTHING you shall want”. Sometimes if you give each other a hard time, someone will have to go. ‘They’ wanted to take my parakeets and did. One was retarded and lovingly playful. Our old ways suggested that if one entity is falling ill or is dying, one must take its place. So Mister Mel lived and Mom died. One was still young. The other has led a long and arduous life. Yeah, yeah. Your twit wifey is messed up.

Yeah, yeah. Those were the days when I didn’t have to leave my job but there were signs and creeps all around enough for me that I had to go. And you know the rest is history. Each falling stone seems to hit the ground harder than the next. Since then, I’ve been idle, and wasting time NOT earning income, too. Isn’t that ironic? Hmm? Huh? Well?

“People don’t want to know and could care less.”

I was trying to disclose stuff to Das Squirrel, thinking he’d be open-minded enough to understand. But I think each soul is too arrogant, distracted and unwilling to learn. They are NOT ready. So to push this agenda of ‘full disclosure’ may ‘corrupt’ their spiritual path. That’s the ticket, I think. They may have to take many lifetimes to fully ‘Grok’. He’s been disclosing stuff to me; but that’s SMALL physical fighting back stuff compared to spiritual work.

“Once you go down this road of working for Dad, there IS NO TURNING BACK. Even if you wanted to, they won’t let you.”

Wait! I thought God allows us to walk the path of life at our own pace!

“Once you get on the CIA/FBI shite list, its for life.”

Yup. I serve all ways as an observer. I cannot judge, though I’m pissed as hell.

“And the covens and intel agencies are ONE AND THE SAME. I repeat, the intelligence agencies are RUN BY SATANIC COVENS AND THE ILLUMINATI. The dark side. Evil.”

Oh, okay. I thought each is bound by laws, rules and regulations and serve according laws that will bite them back hard for failing to comply. I see that karmic debt may be employed to some extent as no one can escape death.

“This is what you can expect when your power of Spirit from Yeshua’s blood, interferes with their dark plans.”

You have the right and the spiritual protection. They cannot stop you. They shouldn’t be afraid, though I’m surprised; for it is their chance to be reminded, at least, and with some hope that they can be convinced NOT to hate what God has created.

“You are given what I never received.”

I know but I’ll find out what will shake outta this mess.

“Finally, this. This isn’t about scaring you or whining about my life.”

I know but I like your writing style. It’s easy on the eyes.

Oh, and thank you for sharing the family photo. Like I said, you are REALLY good (as you did pick up my ‘subtle’ thoughts regarding my nice thoughts about her and your family.) Good luck, chumps!

Sincerely,

Flynn B up late at night again after sleeping off the antihistamine and pain killers to help me recover from funeral cooties.

https://ourspiritualworld.blogspot.com/2018/08/the-daily-messenger-closing-portal-to.html

Nope. I do NOT know or understand how to ‘read between the lines’. For example, I’m a lemon – used and sour. I don’t make lemonade outta the fruits of my labor because someone else worked hard for the juice. Thusly so, I’m broke.

Yeah and so you are popular among ‘them’. I knew that long ago during your gig with the team crystallized making artists. I recall you make jewelry too. Okay, maybe I wanna a bracelet one day. Brouhaha!.

Yeah we’re at the same old house since 1976. So we ain’t gonna more nowhere none! Yup.  I was gonna share something with you. But I can’t fine the photo. It’s sports our house with a nice dome-like sunshine with pinkish glow over it. Woot.

I looked on the Realtor.com website and the photos taken of the place online and they did improve the area, though some are darkened and creepy.

Dear diary,

I’m suffering from funeral and burial cooties. Today my chest is congested from mostly post nasal drips, which are clear in color. Maybe my recent consumption of goat (I would pronounce this word as two syllables “GO – AT”) milk produces too much mucous.

I thought I had burned off the cooties during a one-hour nap yesterday. I thought gargling hydrogen peroxide would help to cleanse out the mouth and throat. I thought rinsing my sinus with saline solution would flush out cooties. But today I blew out twice some yellowish stuff, which was the painful stuff that cause my painful.

You see, my cooties started our after Monday’s crying while typing up Mom’s eulogy. Mine as angry, Dad was loud, Das Squirrel didn’t do his. I made my peace with Mom that Monday evening.

I would hear the single or double depressurization popping sounds from the the double acrylic windows. I knew Mom was wandering around this old house. So I would say aloud: Mom is Love you. Mom is Miss you. That sound has since stopped last night as I assured the wandering spirit that I would say Catholic prayers aloud before bedtime in the following order (at least for forty days to maybe one year):

• one I Believe In God,
• one Our Father,
• one Hail Mary (outta respect for our mothers),
• one Glory Be,
• one O Sacrament, and
• one Eternal Rest Grant Unto Mom, Oh Lord; And Let Perpetual Light Shine Upon Mom. Amen.

Then on Tuesday’s viewing the clogged up, painful left sinus was aggravated from the freaking COLD air conditioning system blowing all around me. My black veil helped to shield the cold air since my hair is cut short! I didn’t have a sweater but had an polyester top that trapped my body heat like plastic cling wrap on meat.

So yeah, when I forced myself to stay until three o’clock in the morning two days ago, I’ve finished my scanning stuff of envelopes, cards, checks, and CASH, including a symbolic copper penny from the Chinese in-laws. Yesterday, we deposited the check and some old wrapped coins into the bank. I was tempted to deposit the wads of $100 and $50 but my incoming thought said to gift the one dough to the Deacon who said the rosary from Mom during last Tuesday evenings vigil.

This morning I forced myself to scan the message cards to my Mom’s flower arrangements and then called 1-800-835-8443 and sent an email inquiring about an unidentified sender of flowers.

Oh yeah and for whatever reason I cannot view the obituary comments online. I can only see two nice ones from parishioners. I wish to only see and remember good stuff. But for the meantime, I’m gonna avoid viewing memories of Mom, videos, photos, and other sentimental stuff. Because I need to perform for my two signing gigs and I cannot have congestions!

I also need to survive Monday’s job interview. Once again, it pays as much as a burger flipper. But it’s way past our local airfield base. It’s almost as if I should move outta this old house and leave Dad to do his own business and hang around his own species of elderly folks.

Unfortunately, he is a ‘Lone Ranger’. He has always been a private person. He is NOT a people person. My parents were long time parishioners but they maintained their low-profile.

I don’t mind volunteering but there are too many cooties. And I get sick easily. This means I do NOT travel well.

Anyway, with regards to donating my car, I had a feeling that y’all could do without a extra vehicle, which needs care and maintenance. Last year, I spent thousands of dollars. So given your circumstances, I understand. It’s okay, if y’all don’t want a one-dollar deal. It’s a donation! All y’all have to do is register my car under your name and take care of paying the auto insurance, gasoline, fuel, repair and maintenance!

So that car is still good for me. I’m sure Mom would wonder WTF I’m getting rid of my car. But because the assholes refuse to hire this old fart, the car is parked in front of my driveway. I don’t mind working. I just don’t like people. And unfortunately, getting along with humanz is part of the job.

And so for the past twenty years, I’ve NO real income. In the next twenty years, I’m NOT working either. See? I have to control my hatred and anger. And I live in Silicon Valley. WTF is the point of owning stuff if I cannot reciprocate my time and effort in exchange for cash so I can buy stuff and then get tired of the stuff and then donate the stuff later one?

This morning I had to downgrade Dad’s AT&T service and I was trying to cut down his other stuff. I wanna cut down my stuff but it’s still good! I still have to donate stuff. But I’m sick. So I have the next twenty years to do nothing interesting except blog anonymously and in private mode! That is such a waste of time. And I’m still not anywhere near God and the salvation of a pain-free, joyful existence.

Sincerely,

Flynn B congested

www.youtube.com/watch

Damn it…

20180822-2150. Okay, fine. I had to blow out my boogers. Tear-jerking. Devastating! Why, now? Why? Why? Why?

A Star Trek moment: the needs of the many outweighs the need of the one?

The son wanted to do something great but disobeyed the father and went ahead and saved the world, but lost his life.

So wasn’t the father was alert enough? He was supposed to have one eyeball on the world AND another eyeball on his son!

Dear diary,

I’m bored. Yup. I’m back to be bored. Now Dad is yakking too much. Once again, stuff that I wanted to stop doing – I’ll end up doing unless I move outta the community. Then I’ll do something different until I feel like I wanna move outta that community again.

So the guests were mostly parishioners, a handful of relatives and very few co-workers who just had to excuse themselves. There were military personnel and maybe CIA spooks, who blend in like everyone. I didn’t care as I hugged almost ALL of them.

So yeah I cannot leave the place because of the support. Now I have to behave ‘normal’ and ‘get along’ like the rest of the humanz. Das Squirrel seems oblivious to these spooks and is actually relishing and enjoying their company. OMG! I’m surrounded by idiots.

But the sad part is that we’re all getting old, reflective and dying. Honestly, I don’t like existing as this creature called human – too much fatness and emotions – much like lard floating on water – the mixture is yucky.

Anyway, I’m too lazy to do anything. I could donate more stuff and maybe sell my car. But Dad said to keep using my car because it isn’t broken, which is true. But I can’t keep that thing alive with monthly insurance premiums since I’m not using it.

Although I do get discounts for less mileage, I do NOT want to keep paying when I’m not working. I shouldn’t complain because I can still survive by NOT doing anything. I’ve got unprocessed, yet have scanned, these incoming mail – checks, notices, and other adverts.

Maybe when I’m up for cleaning-up more crap, I’ll end up donating stuff that may come in useful later on. Alas, I’ve donated those and are for the living who can make use of my treasured junk.

I’m not finished with the clothes as some I probably could repair by making the material smaller. (Oh yeah, I’m that fat kid in a long gown, next to Mom.) Yeah so I need to thin out this old house, because I could move out and then move back in so that Dad can do his own shit.

But the guest kept telling me to keep an eyeball on him because he might get depressed. He’s been shaking from sadness for two days. And well that will take time. He needs to volunteer at church. He doesn’t want to worry about others. Selfish, just like his son.

What’s the point of inviting church goers if he himself doesn’t lend a helping hand? Selfish. Stubborn. My god. He won’t life a finger. Just lift his son. Good in talking and telling stories and joking. But won’t lift a finger, only if being paid or for doing something in return.

Yeah, well it’s a long journey. Soon my journal entries are just dust, just like my interest in scanning and archiving and yakking with Dad whom has pissed us off over the years. Now he’s just annoying. He won’t stop. Why won’t he stop? He can talk with your friends.

I have to push myself to talk with the choir, even though I don’t wanna. He yaks with me and doesn’t hang out with his own species – peers and guys. Sheesh. Don’t use me, man! Get away. Sheesh. Annoying. Lone Ranger, he said.

No wonder the children move away from the parents – annoying as heck. Can’t get along with their own brutal peer groups. It’s the only reason why people go out because they are stuck with their own same people at home.

Annoying. He won’t stop. Why can’t he grieve by himself? Y’all don’t have to read my blog. Sheesh. I’m being mean to him so he can move on with his stubborn life. But he’s 79 years old. Either he refuses or he can’t. I know some really old timers are really not stubborn like that prick.

Sorry but he won’t stop talking to himself. I should put on my headset so I don’t have to hear his shit. He refuses to read newspaper or anything else and expect me to enjoy listening to his crap. Nope. Sorry. I’m mean.

So I should try to get an expensive apartment near the work and only visit him during the weekends. I’ll take the parakeets and he can garden by himself. Man, no wonder the relatives can’t seem to get along – it’s because he refuses to connect.

Sincerely,

Flynn B a old pissed off fat broad with white and thinning hair.

Mom’s coffin crucifix.