Million $ Marathon

 How long can you run? How far will you chase? At what point is the peak? 

 When will you utter mercy when will you have breath to speak?

How far can you ride? How long will run to hold the visible vision of plastic Gold?  Heavily burdened you ran with no thought of your heart. Just raming head first.  The race is-

Corrupting the Governor's who's selling the seed. No good dead worthy of a widows need.

  Running on empty a  large running sphere spinning for security, for team stress. A life of debt, a life of rent. Never owning hands dipped in dirty earth, never stoping to listen to the whispers of a warm breeze. To walk the earth running after an insatiable feed.  Always paying the owner while painting the plastic moldy dust covered halls with plastic plasters of gold. Fake but not phoney, false but not frivoulis. Have you ever imagined your marathon would go on forever?, fully fitting of false paper $'s your love burns deep. 

Will you run to  paradise? Will you ever own? Or will you sell it for more. Run eternal as it seems untill  the debt collector comes knocking on you're door?

Marathons costs time for money can't buy your time. 4or million dollar marathons are paid within life itself.

Red Gloves

   Over the years Ive had a passion for old rifles. Mainly military surplus. Some of these rifles have been in some horrid situations that non of us would willingly wish for.

   One rifle that I had bought that was from the former Yugoslavia changed the atmosphere of my room. I started to have a reoccurring dream that I was fearing for my life about to die in a small clearing surrounded by tall grass as I was hiding. Like the kind deer would make. It was hot I was looking out towards the Tall grass lying on my back in a light green uniform.

   This dream reoccurred atleast 6 times with no variations. It seemed like it was my last memory on a loop.   Each time I clutched that old bolt action mauser like my life was about to end. I would awake sweating as if it was Summer in my cold room.  The dreams ended after I sold it.

   A few weeks ago a man brought in just another Mosin Nagant as it looked. He had it on a sling. It was a trade show so there where plenty of other guns there looking much more attractive. Something small inside of me prodded my interest.  It sat for awhile with no takers. The owner only wanted 200$, I found out. As I inspected it and saw 1906 on it, I was floored. I knew to me it was worth more than 200$. I didn't have money and my curiosity and asking the owner to hold it attracted other sharks towards the end having some one else by it.  

   That rifle haunted me . So i brought 300$ weeks latter to find out who bought it, and I offered them 250$ for it. He mused on my offer for a spell, than decided to sell it to me, he was going to re sell it as most people do at another show for 325$. He was taking it that day to try and sell it. 

  After getting it home I was excited to clean it up. To remove the cosmoline the dirt and to treat any rust. It took some time and I still wasn't sure what it was, was it Finnish? Was it a Cossack rifle? It turned out I found later a 1906 Imperial Tula Mosin. It has so many rings like a tree telling its age and scars to prove it.  It gave me warm  vivid goose bumps as I held it after it was cleaned up and back together. 

    There are bullet strifes on each side on the front ends at different points probably caused as the gun was being cycled in-between shots in a trench. Its very long. Atleast 52 inches.  The upper handgaurd was replaced. The bullet track would have shattered it. Probably replaced twice. 

    The Buttstock has the initials HwH. Also what looks like OtiN or OtvN fainter closer to the trigger guard is also scribbled. Apon further view it was H w H but a failed attempt compared to the second one wich was very deep.  The first being almost over lapped and choppy. Maybe he knew he was about to die and carved it in deep as a final momento in a bottle to some sensitive soul would tell his story of  his failed heroism to stop the Red Monster.. Photos will solidify this story and would show my faulty description , but currently not seeing how to paste so the description continues. The owner also carved deep notch into the top and bottom of the neck a pre pistol grip/hand stop to better hold onto the rifle.

    But the most remarkable experience was just before bed late one night as I was about to fall asleep with light from the other room faintly illuminating the first part of my room, I saw a thick pair of Reddish deep red brown colored leather gloves reaching towards the rifle that is in the middle of my old collection . They looked new, clean and very animatedly real. It was on the same level of the rifle on display in my collection. . The light only illuminated the gloves the rest of the dark room would reveal nothing more of the visitor.

   It wasn't startling given my life has been full of supernatural phenomenon . It was only for a split second they where visible as they reached out to retrieve the rifle in the same fashion I would to remove it from the display.  

   Since then ive researched what the uniform of an Imperial Russian soldier looked like, or Russian names with H. I found a photo of Peter the Great wearing a similar pair.  Ive written a short story about Nicholas the 2nd  the last Emperor of Russia years ago but its not published. Coincidentally its a supernatural story.  Maybe it will be published on here.

One day maybe I will get the full story untill then only the scars and the ghost can give me hints. I will research further and wait to see what else unfolds.

If I only I can figure a way to attach  photos....

https://rumble.com/v2f9fas-mosin-tula-1906-imperial-part-2..html

Best way possible 

The Counter Weight

      One of the most unique events happened today. I was busy shopping and talking with my 26 year old nephew about investing. My online order was small. 12 items. After checking out and arriving to deliver the order I became pale realizing that half of the order was missing. 

 

    I became very confused as the receipt said her items where all paid for atleast that was my quick gazing impressions. I immediately ended the call with my one Nephew and notified the customer that I must have become distracted and left a portion of the order at the store. I leave what was in my possession and promised to find or in the worst case scenario pay for the missing items and than re deliver. 

    When arriving at the store the person who had helped in the self checkout was on break, the manager that was covering said that no forgotten bags where left, before that i checked the cart stagging area by my parking spot. After all I was only 1 mile away on the delivery. No and No

 So I knew the only thing to do was replace the items. Being that many items are out of stock one had to be made up for in smaller quantities. A large box of small night time diapers are unmistakable. As was the 3 other items

 Coconut yogurt and 2 dairy items. 

     Thirty minutes latter I was on another order engrossed and super focused on my work as to not make anymore mistakes or" loose" items. 

    I was walking past a Father and his son who had cerebral palsy and a few other things, clearly disabled and could only make noises and small hand gestures. He was clearly trying to get my attention. Usually I tune out the different things going on in stores especially those wanting attention. He was persistent in getting my attention. So slowly I came out of my work focus and tried to understand what he was pointing at and his smile on his face and " emm em um em" vocals that where getting louder untill i made eye contact. His look was of I know something you don't but you can't understand me.  I was about 15 feet away by the meat and sandwich meat section. I realized he kept pointing at a cart. Over and over. That cart was very close to him and I was with my cart. He wad in a motorized wheelchair, seat. Trying to figure out what he wanted me to see I walked over . I felt like I was walking into another dimension of reality. As i became closer I saw just a few items in the cart. One was the large box of diapers missing from earlier, the last one, and on the top part of the cart the very same coconut yogurt and other items. He smiled an noded yes, yours , as I said "this was mine" in disbelief. He just almost laughed with what ever laughter he could make. I didn't know what to do, I tried to explain to the Father that he had found my missing order from earlier. I don't think he understood. I thanked the "disabled" man and walked off as he was grinning ear to ear as I walked away. I put those items back and contemplated buying the larger box of diapers to get the customer the right quantity in the end I didnt. ...

 

   The moral of the story and the title of this is thus.

It seems those we term disabled are often given counter intelligence or counter strength on levels we dont understand or see. The modern day earth occultist believe we must be culled or the population reduced. Especially those like the old or disabled as they are deemed a heavy tax on us and the environment. Its ironical as Hitler shared similar science just from a different perspective. He saw the Jewish Germans , Gypsies and the Disabled as a heavy tax on the German nation. His science of the day validated his supposed superiority his ego inflated his ambitious lofty goals. There where many other mass murders that have scared people for generations and have heard how evil he was for a life time while ignoring the root of his evil intentions. Here is a perfect example of the superior intelligence of an inferior human in the eyes of world standards. Why waste intelligence? Why repeat history. The climate changes that have been happening since the beginning like a volcano creating an Island wont be the end of civilization. The degradation of its moral climate will. 

 Progress in technology and energy is a good ambition, lets not ruin humanity or find ways to sterilize and or reduce it by death or force.

 It dawned on me that the same attitude of sterilizing the local geese eggs because the neighborhood management believes there are to many is the same for the wealthy elite that has gained thier money from today's system. They feel their un-elected presence is needed to govern the affairs of humanity and like Hittler and many others will lead to a disastrous end.  

  

September 12th 2022 where I was on the 11th 2001

 That year I was on a tourist driven Island paradise.  I had become a gypsy by August and was living in and out of my Toyota Tercel after I helped a 70 plus year old woman find not only the strength to walk but her love 4 life as well, all  through 2 herbs.  Her Dr. Said she wouldn't walk much because of age and the hip surgery.  In 2 weeks she  went from bed ridden walker to the bathroom to hiking her favorite trails.

My room became the room for her new found  boyfriend Jack as cowboy as they come. An old stud still rutting and strutting. We where higher up by Makawao and the Zen of the view burned visions of spiritual paradise into my soul. The weather was always mild, warm but cool so high up. The clouds constantly draped or shadowed  the view in the distance Kiaha side. Its been donkeys ears so i think it was Kiea? It was flat in the middle and you could see the patch work of climates changes in weather ,towns micro climates up untill a small city from her spot. Laurna's. We where on the other side of patch work up half way the mountain of the famous telescope over looking Kieha and  flat island untill it  became a violent vertical jade walls acending into the clouds. Some great cloud watching on my time off listening to Moon light lady. Like a mystical distant kingdom  The mountain engulfed the island from side to side with the vast flat network connecting the 2 mountains. 

I became a vagabond,  a gypsy, I found refuge at Twin Falls for a short period, I loved farming so became the only non trust fund person sharing the community to take growing food seriously. 

I had my little Tercel that needed work but ran. I scored it for 400$ I didn't have a ton of money and would occasionally landscape with the owner of Casanovas by Makawao who was having a slow go at his restaurant. 

 I would go back to Lorna's to chat with Robin an old artist that rented a spot on her property &spent her time making pottery to sell at the local tourist shops. Robin loved to tell me about the latest news and it seemed to depress her badly. Or we would talk about far out theories in a sense. The world before mass internet , far out science was spread by travels. I had learned some interesting stuff in Ireland. 

So one evening just before dark, it was dusk about 5-530 and Robin like to have the TV on, most of the time it was ignored and usually I would show up unannounced.  No phone.

A show about Ted Coppells time in Afghanistan came on. As soon as that came on it was like a magnet was pulling my attention,  my zen like state was no longer worried free but deep agitation.  I began to stand then pace the room worried as I had just witnessed a horrible crime, but before it happened.  I never stood or paced during our conversations.  She asked what was wrong. I said something about that show, Afghanistan was and would be the beginning of the end times, a darkness that no where on earth would be free from.  It was so clear.  

 My old manager on an organic farm an athiest of sorts jewish agnostic  was blown away when a similar event took place where I was at a house that had been turned into an Art museum and I spent the tour of randon art telling him the impressions I was getting about the family that had lived there. I kept telling him, he just ignored what I was saying as if I was having a scitso episode of some sort. I saw or imagined kids playing,  wearing boyscout uniforms running up and down the stairs and swinging on a tire swing. I saw native servants, before we left I told all this to the desk lady, she verified all of it every last detail as the house was donated by the family. My explanation of the vision was like a once lit match, the flame is gone but the smell lingers in the air. My manager became as white as a ghost and said not a single  word on  the 20 minute ride ride back to the farm. That was 1999-2000. This was not a gift that I could turn on and off.  Another time we had visited an old Buddhist Monastery and he had not told me as it was now a farm. But I could feel or sense a deep sense of meditation.  Tranquility poured off those walls. I told Erik Frye the manager and he verified my intuition that time latter.  

 This time my manager was in California contemplating starting an Organic Olive Farm. The farm was still there i had lived and worked on in Haiku. Lee- Lopez, but I was elsewhere. The old goat barn I had renovated after getting tired of a wet  tent became a palace as a gal from new york took it over and made it nice. Livable.  Not as simple as I had it. My nickname was little Budha by some and she had made it a spiritual shrine of sorts. 

This time again this impression hit , I didn't see anything just felt darkness, death,  destruction,  and no where on Earth would escape what Evil was comming. I felt Trapped. 

It lasted the night. I apologized to Robin and then left back for Twin Falls.

A few weeks or a month latter, and before all this an honorable mention to the few times I read about Duke the local old guy playing basketball in his 70s with the locals if that was his name by a faded memory. He was a silver mustache and flowing hair gentleman, tan, built, he was very fit. All this came from Robins  sunday news paper when I was staying at Lornas. I would do the same in Ireland.  There was a story about traveling in France and subway bombings.  I found that memorable.  It stood out to me, by the time the show hit I was living elsewhere with no real TV acess or newspapers. Just camp fires and me telling the kids the Story of The Ice Queen and Fire king.  That i made up everynight and added chapters to the story as we watched the fire. The parents would ask ease dropping where does he get this?

 9.11.2001

I traveled around the island alot to visit people or to hit up my favorite health food store called Mana for healthy delicacies.  That morning at 9 wich is like 11 or 1 elsewhere because the sun is up by 6 and down by 6. Its hard to sleep pass 6 with everyone calling people on land lines to make plans or do things. 

It was odd driving into Paia on Maui. It was vaccant. No tourist convertible cars, no tourists in colorful floral shirst. It was empty.

I parked up the street and walked. Some people of the few that where there seemed dazed. Lost. Stunned.  In disbelief.  I wore my Turkish Muslim hat that was a gift from a Turkish brother inlaw. My hair was long ontop and thick. That hat was like a good comb or beanie (called a Kufi Burgandy and white) I recieved sometimes an angry look like it was my fault as I walked by.  Never before had this been the case. Im not a muslim.

 Latter that day back at Twin Falls my friend Noah showed me a pre recorded news on a vhs tape on the 1 TV some one had hidden on the vast property  what had happened. We puffed on pure oxygen and talked politics.  Ziac also a new resident on the commune from New York was upset but said that business men pay to rape children tied to beds in New York as he used to own a business in New York and new about the dark side. He was upset but in some way thought of it as Karma.

 After 9.11 the owners of Twin Falls returned from bigger paradise ponds in the World. Rainbow and his wife who I forgot the name. True 1970s error hippies.  Our campfire community parties where me often times as the Tea Master as I was called some nights of huge vats of tea often made from local plants ended. My singing with a random Yogi hindhu guy who loved to play his Indian harpsicord and sing Hindu songs in the middle of a random day by the other comunity fire pit, my basic yoga instruction to new guests, our free love in the true innocent sense, no orgies or mass drug abuse, just families sharing food, many families from other communities or locals shared our night camp fires, lectures from a  traveling Shaman one night as he puffed on a cigar and had us all melting in unity by the end. Another night a traveling Indian Peoti ceremony with T.P and al- no thanks - All where whole books worth of experiences. Some magically spiritual times.  Lots of work on gardening.  Swimming at twin falls. The place we lived shielded us from the horror of 9.11.

When the owners stopped traveling,  they demanded all new people of the community leave.  I was so young then, and was not old enough or self sufficient enough to stay even though I had found an acre of land to farm but had to live in the surrounding jungle and sleep out of my car.

Ziac wanted to find land and start his own. I got him to look at the island  closest  since it seemed  the least touristy and the most old school Hawaiin. At the time it was a no go for him and Justin Thyme.  He wrote a letter years latter asking for me to return. The one rule he wanted was no kids.  That to me was a deal breaker.  Yes the kids could be wild, especially the toddlers but wanting to be a father was and still is an Eternal part of my Being. 

In a month of so of feeling like I was at a dead end even though I was living on a wind swept pineapple farm an acre rented to me,  I was to young to pull it off. I left back for Maryland after selling my car for 400$ desiring other places to do one day my own land projects possibly community or part of 1. Life is one long Dream untill we wake up in the after life. Or on Hawaii 

 

 

Whore

 War in this century is so digitally Glamorized. Who fights Wars? Nancy Pelosi, or Turtle McConnell 🐢  do they fight in a War? War is like a Glamorous Whore

https://rumble.com/v1jaeq8-ukraine-ministry-posted-a-footage-on-its-military-day.html

A Whore with lots of make up camaflouging in the perfect dark lightning to show off curves with tucked up partially bare breats. 

Her stockings are long and white just to the thighs, her dress is short and the whole scene of seduction is unrelenting.... unforgetting.

In the morning when you wake alone,  bleeding out- Bloodied- , broken, if you awake at all. Soon you are begging for more time a 2nd chance as you remember that whore you where so very drunkenly in love with wow that was a terrible choice. She looked undeceptive with out the colorful make up when the light came on, you remembered her body how terribly scared it was, ragged, wrinkled, her hands that stroked your chest where icey cold to the touch before you fell asleep drunk as she had whispered her short confessions of love for you only now realizing  in your fate,  was just a cold lie it was in reality for your death she wished . Where is her whisppers of love now? 

Now that you have left, that you have passed, Your memory is kept only within honnor of a maybe a passing generation, maybe you are remebered many years on, on a now graffitied  public wall,  where her illegitimate kids have spray painted  over your memory.  

With in a night after your passing she puts on the heavy make up with out a tear or tremble from steady ice cold hands.  She quickly finds another dark street corner, another dark Pub seeking those that are Looking for the experience of a life time.  Trading it all in for possibly just one night.

War is A Whore. 

Karma is King/Love is Queen

 Is there much to Elaborate on? Karma doesn't mean bad physical or good, it can come in a spiritual form. That never ending depression you feel for stealing and ripping people of is a good example. 

Love, is there no finner wine? No earthly elixir that can compare?

What a way to pay for bad Karma, but with Love.

Giants

 Amazon.

Google 

Facebook

Twittler

Would these organizations have the money and power they wield 40 years ago?

Sears

Safeway

Marlboro

The Giants of former decades. But did they ever have the power companies like Time Warner has in the media information and the first mentioned?  Yes at one time Marlboro influenced studies, silenced law suits, and used theyre gigantic power to wield global dominance in addicting the world, people could not and still in other nations, can't live with out nicotine.  

Like all Giants they eventually fall.  They become former shadows, they become an honorable mention and a warning to future people.

In the book of Genesis, in it there is a famous mention about Giants. As a child and early adult I took that literal. As ive aged, it seems more like the above. Maybe they where indeed large people.

History may not repeat itself, but it rhymes,  it changes costumes. Or, it slightly changes a song or movie but its the same story, same notes of a pop song re hashed. 

The Giants of pre flood spoke the same language,  they most likely had one Government.  They had enormous wealth and power,  control. Influence.  They lived on one giant land mass.

They became evil, corrupt. They're life was ruined over tweets, over trivial things like mice to elephants where they're concern.  They where so insecure in theyre large size the small things concerned them. Sound familiar? The point , the earth was flooded, they land was divided into something resembling our current topography once the waters receeded.  Some of this is literal and other to my own research and understanding. 

Guess what, the record player, or history soon repeated itself. Powerful people built a tower, guess what happened? Ok this time they all lost theyre common language. 

Will we loose our internet? Our common language?we live among modern Giants.  In my eyes they are incredibly corrupt. Drunk with power, intoxicated some that pollution is not only real , i concure, but we control the thermostat of a planet we did not create. So we must depopulate humanity in order to save humanity. 

So genocide is ok. Sending sick people into burdensome nursing homes where the very people who changed your diappers has come full circle, they must be culled. Couples must not have children. Couples must adopt alternative lifestyles that prohibit reproduction 

When the compass no longer works planes, ships, hikers become loss. The moral compass is gone.

Do you know anything about past giants of pre flood? Any names? Any inventions? Books? Music? Movies? Famous people? No?

They have been memorized as cave people.  Talk about the ultimate humiliation.  All we find is survival tools, cave paintings.  

If we do not find our compass,  the current Giants will not only be remembered as people who killed they're own children like altar sacrificing pagans,  they will be erased from history. Like when a painter is disgusted with a beautiful painting, it has mold growing on it, its faded, its un salvageable.  So the painter destroys the canvas. Throws it into a fire 

What is climate control when an asteriod/meteorite shower shows how fragile our invinsible sandcastle is? How in time these words are erased,  how all things,  people, accept for God is forgotten. Pre flood there where noble and great ones, mega highways, great cities, but we only know of Noah. He wasn't the ceo of Amazon, CNN, he didnt run the CIA, KGB, FSB.  He was a simple man. So 2 will this generation be remembered if we don't find a moral compass. Erased , lost to history. Forgotten. Cave people.

"Dust thou art , Dust. "