Fake love

Poisonous tentacles of the Venus Fly Trap

My family responded to my request for donations with obvious insincerity. My sister made up some excuse that she doesn’t like Facebook. Facebook has been with me through thick and thin. They’re the most resilient, rock-solid social network. They’re in it for the long haul, and they have what it takes to succeed. They’re not perfect, but nobody is. That’s why I’m here. I eviscerate all darkness and corruption and elevate everyone to their maximum potential. My half-sister didn’t even have the courage to say anything. She just unsubscribed. She’s a fake Christian. I forwarded her the previous email I just sent so that she can understand what a fake Christian is.

My mother responded acting like a dumb bimbo who couldn’t find the donation link pretending like she wanted to donate to me while hiding behind this pathetic fakery of mock support. Thankfully Google pushed through my filters that I had set up to delete her trash from entering my energy field and I was alerted to her response. Metatron and I are finding a rhythm together. I’m enjoying our evolving relationship.

My mother is a retarded child holding a big bag of royal inheritence, and she doesn’t know what to do with it. Her soul is pulling her in one direction while her ego is pulling her in another. She’s soul-disconnected and ego-identified. She has no capacity to listen to her Higher Self trying to communicate with her. When she was handling the inheritence like a chicken running around with its head cut off because her clueless ego was taking orders from her disconnected soul, she had enormous pain in her root chakra, and she handled it by going to the doctor and getting them to burn the nerves to death so she couldn’t feel anything.

That inheritence needs to come to me because I’m the divinely ordained recipient, and somewhere deep down inside in the dark recessess of her calloused and shriveled heart, she knows this. She drowns out the whining wailing of her agonized and malnourished soul by inundating herself with a nonstop stream of stimulation. When I was growing up, she had the television on all the time everywhere. She sleeps with it, and it programs her subconscious with propaganda brainwashing. She’s completely possessed by demonic forces because she refuses to face her inner demons.

She has no free will. She’s a mindless spawn of Abaddon. She pretends to be loving, but it’s just as fake as her breast implants, her silicone infusions, and countless other nonstop remedies to hide the putrid poison inside her and make it look like she’s an attractive woman. She cannot accept herself. She doesn’t love herself, and the pretend love she forces on other people is back-stabbing poison designed to disempower them and convert them to pets that she uses to fluff up her environment with these servants that she grooms to massage her ego and convince her that she’s loving and beautiful so everyone can dance in her selfish little fake paradise in order to hide her self-hatred, which she refuses to face and to heal.

She sabotages other people’s success because it gives her a sick satisfaction to placate her miserable existence. My sister is a helpless victim of her sorcery. My mother is a damaged, fractured consciousness unaware of the power she has to hurt other people. Her uncontrollable, repressed, subconscious emotions are poisonous fumes that cripple anyone nearby, and they don’t even have to be nearby. The tentacular attack of her Octopussy tentacles successfully left a mark on me when she was brewing in the putrid poison of her unspoken resentments.

This is what I mean when I say that a child with a gun needs to be disarmed for the safety and well-being of everyone and everything. She has no idea what power she wields. She’s like a dumb animal. She channels a spiritual power that she doesn’t understand, and she cannot see the harm that she causes, like a wild beast stampeeding over everything in a blind rage.

Elon Musk is the same kind of stupid animal. I learned how he heartlessly crushed bright minds in order to steal their power and glory and parade around stolen innovations to fuel his false bravado. Even if you don’t know the details of his history, his character is obvious. Just look at the bumbling buffoon. His productivity tips are obvious stupidity. He’s not a role model that you want to emulate. He’s fake. Pretty much everyone is fake to some degree, but some fakery is harmless while others are dangerous.

The level of disparity between the authentic self and the persona mask is ever-changing. I see through all trickery. You are transparent to me. I see to the heart and soul of who and what you are. There’s no hiding or pretending with me. Either you’re real or you’re fake. If you can’t be honest with yourself, then you can’t be honest with other people. It all starts within. Know Thyself.