We really are at war, and internalising the full consequences of that is hard
To begin this essay, I had just come back from photographing May bluebells in the rain, and the contrast between that calming beauty and the pressing ugliness of genocide is a tough juxtaposition to hold. People are being maimed and dying in large numbers from the Covid injection bioweapon, and the data is official, widespread, and incontestable. Until someone shows me otherwise, we are in the middle of a most perverted genocide, where most of the victims are willing volunteers. We recover what joy we can from the sadness.
For some time I have been mulling the moment when the masses are forced to confront the realities of betrayal, treason, human trafficking, silent weapons, economic warfare, and — the deadly consequences. It is a moment when many of our problems disappear, and new ones arrive. The social division may be eased, but at an awful price of collective horror. I cannot know what will be the initial triggers — dam bursts, high profile arrests, empty bank accounts, rescued children, emergency alerts, internet outage, media blackout, or something else. All I know is that unprecedented change is baked into our future.
Years ago I had a work colleague who was diagnosed with brain cancer one week, and was dead the next. I was told that the diagnosis alone can be enough to kill people via stress. The process of awakening a brainwashed population to their predicament is a kind of collective surgery of the psyche, where if you rush it you kill the patient who cannot take the invasiveness of the excision of the tumour of deceit, but if you delay too much the toxic lies kill them anyway. The wish for everything to unfold fast, so that one’s own social schism is resolved, is understandable but unwise. There is a divine timing, and be glad you don’t know or control it.
The societal divide is between those who acknowledge we have lived under conditions of deception, and are seeking truth (even if reluctantly), and those who cling on to ignorance, so they do not face the pain of change. At some point this chasm will collapse, and reality will forcefully intrude. Part of the agony of (partially) knowing what is going on is the anticipation of the hurt to come for those we love, but who carelessly went along with the collective psychosis. Regardless of the scale of the actual or attempted murder of the masses, there is a psychological ‘ultrashock’ to confront, which is itself dangerous if not sufficiently contained.
One observation is that many people I consider awake end up in quite a depressed state, and become “black pilled”. They forget the paradoxical nature of the art of war, where things look bleak when they are actually rosy, but at a deeper strategic level. They lose their faith in actors and actions unseen by forces for good who will stop at nothing to protect the innocent. The mind engages with the perceived reality, but the spirit lacks faith, and the end result is dispiriting and demoralising. I can now see why this is called spiritual warfare, and not critical thinking warfare. The spirit is what truly drives the outcome; everything reconciles in the end, and if it isn’t reconciled, it isn’t the end.
It is the essential nature of fifth generation warfare that the conflict hide itself from its victims. The ubiquitous recognition that there is a war going on defines the end of the conflict, because the targets no longer acquiesce with the plans of the perpetrators. While mind control may misdirect people into acting against their own interest in the short run, “spirit control” is what makes them seek untruth and unrighteousness in the long run. It is easy to focus on the misdeeds of police, courts, councils, doctors, educations, etc. — but the pastors, priests, and prelates carry the greatest burden of shame for misdirecting their flocks.
It is tempting to seek retribution or revenge on those who participated as minions of the system and betrayed our trust. While there has to be justice meted out to those who actively planned and managed evil schemes, we cannot put every nurse who administered a poison injection into jail, even if there was no informed consent. Getting through this societal ultrashock requires us to accept that we might have done the same if in their shoes, and that being “awake” is partially a result of luck of circumstances and experience, not just character or judgement. We will only have peace if we can locate our forgiveness and compassion, which speaking personally is hard when you have been so hurt from broken trust.
It is five years since I wrote my first essays on Q, MAGA, and the Great Awakening. I had no concept of the depth of the deception we were facing, such as cycles of genocide and civilisation reset, the magnitude of the underground and off world situation, or the extent of the use of technologies like cloning and (epi)genetic manipulation. That we are arriving at the ultrashock of mass awakening so fast — robustly alive and in physical comfort — is an absolute miracle, even if it feels like the perfect opposite. The distress of this anticipation and longing may be burdensome, but it can be dispelled in an instant with the arrival of unmissable events.
I have never read a single book on psychological warfare, nor attending a single course of military training. Yet I feel like I am competent in the subject simply from having been forced to take practical exams nonstop for years. It requires a certain detachment from what is going on in the outside world, and very firm boundaries to accept what is yours to own, and reject invitations to take on the burdens of others. What we are having to do is akin to extricating yourself from a dysfunctional relationship with a partner showing borderline personality symptoms, but at a collective level. The separation is with the programmed insanity, not the individuals.
The oppressive wait is a form of emotional work, which is often the most demanding kind of work, and I am finding I have to put a lot of effort into self-care right now. I have to be careful what energy I have around me, take as much rest as I need and when I need it, and maintain my simple “sanity rituals” like nature walks and photo art. The anticipation of the ‘ultrashock’ has to be balanced out with cultivation of ‘ultracalm’; interior peace comes first. I cannot be of help to others if I am being drained by my own internal conflict. The occasional essay may burst forth in a moment of energy, but I have to let go of any sense of obligation or timing. Everything unnecessarily stressful is contraindicated.
At some point this exhausting anticipation will convert into facing a new reality of mass awakening. History will move on, and the feeling of this moment will pass. The paradoxical “dreadful hope of disruption” will resolve itself. The “reverse psychosis” of having to inhabit semi-sanity and normalised lunacy at the same time will be done. We have persevered through a vicious and barbaric attack on our psyche, so are hardened and prepared for what is to come. It has been like standing on one leg for years, and the awful pain has become an ordinary part of our existence. The shift might mean we have to stand on a different leg, but at least the change in mind and body discomfort is a form of relief to the soul.
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