posted on Apr, 14 2005 @ 07:11 AM
The government itself is taking away the rights the terrorists are trying to deny us.
I'm a key figure in an ongoing financial-political charade, the plot to conceal the truth about the existence of extraterrestrials called Nephilim and
the Anunnaki. the plot to obfuscate the existence of Anglo-saxon blooded human / Reptilian hybrid celestial entities called Nephilim, masquerading as
human beings, and not just any human form in all case but pretending to be Jewish billionaires working with the Illuminati and Bilderberg Group,
increasing anti-semitism, by scapegoating the Jews as they always have.
by controlling the world's finances through conspiracy, mass hypnosis, distortion into their "truth" through deception, persistent illusions,
oppression and the convoluted idea of the necessity of poverty.
It's a global conspiracy, with key players in the highest levels of power, that reaches down into the lives of every man, woman and child on this
planet. so, of course, no one believes me. I'm an annoyance to my co-workers, a joke to my peers. They call me Freaky. Freaky McMillan, who
had a lucent dream when he was a kid, of pale skinned red eyed "aliens" together with white hazmat suit wearing humans coming into his living room
right before the sunset, attempted to abduct him and his family. his first memory is that they are white suited ice creatures from a cartoon because
he didn't understand they were white hazmat suits til years later. how does a 4 yro kid know about hazmat suits in the 1970s? his parents & two
older brothers flee out the backyard to next door neighbors' backyard sliding glass door, accidently leaving him behind to fight off the intruders.
he fled their grasp to join his family but they refused to open the door to let him in, telling him to go away since they are afraid to open the door.
consequently, he was taken but doesn't remember what happened after being grabbed away from his parent's eyes. the next morning, his family not
remembering exactly when they went to sleep but seem to have some kind of "memory" of routine events that sort of seem to lead up to them all going to
bed very early in the night, which was unusual for a weekend. the rest of his family experiencing amnesia but him a dream like "Dark Night Of the
Soul" reality.
he now chases after the truth, shouting to the heavens or to anyone who will listen that the fix is in, that the sky is falling and when it hits it's
gonna be the #-storm the millennium.
The proof that we've suspected. The proof that we've never been able to speak or hold in our hands. That proof is here.
Whatever happened to playing a hunch? The element of surprise, random acts of unpredictability? If we fail to anticipate the unforeseen or expect the
unexpected in a universe of infinite possibilities, we may find ourselves at the mercy of anyone or anything that cannot be programmed, categorized or
easily referenced.
If coincidences are just coincidences, why do they feel so contrived?