Added: see bottom
I was called last night by my daughter-in-law’s roommate, who realized no one had told me that she overdosed last week. I had been with her two days before, taking gifts for her and my granddaughter (named after my daughter and Nichole’s twin sister).
I stand against you Satan until my last breath fighting your evil in this life we are all in in this world you have corrupted and lives you destroy.
I am so sad for my granddaughter, she is not yet 14. Nichole’s twin sister, her mom and siblings and friends. I am loving each of you. Sending all my love. Doing all I can to not cry and produce trauma energies for their collection.
Nichole had begun to embrace the knowledge I was sharing. (She had seen Afflicted, before our reuniting after a few years being separate – her ability to forgive and love was great.) Before I left last Monday (her twin was with us all day too, us three girls like in old times years past) she said she was wrapping her mind around it, it made her forehead hurt. HER PINEAL WAS OPENING. Praise the MOST HIGH.
LOVE HAS WINGS LOVE HAS WINGS LOVE HAS WINGS
LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE
I love you Nichole. I lift you up to our Creator, the Most High. He knows everything you were considering and trying to understand. He knows your heart. Your heart is Good. We are all trauma victims.
Added on January 13, 2019:
I have been writing a book called SUPERNATURAL IN MY LIFE. I did not know that Nichole had died until the 26th when her roommate (the one who followed the advice in my post DO THIS WHEN YOU REFUSE A VACCINE
) called. There I was, sending texts, emails, leaving voice messages after the 18th when we were last together. I have had supernatural things occur as long as I can remember, back to age two. Never forgotten.
I wrote this early on the morning of December 21st. I write so much that this was ‘backburnered’ in my mind until, reading aloud to my friend the chapters I have finished in the book. This dear friend who helped me have my granddaugher’s weighted blanket custom-made and shipped to her because his own son almost OD’d on fentanyl just two weeks before Nichole did. (This is true #empathy.) He has known me since I was 20, old friends with the my children’s grandparents. As I began to read the most recent event of December 21st, I realized Nichole had come to visit.
Here is what I wrote, less than twenty-four hours from her death, less than 25 miles from her body in the mortuary, without knowing – NO ONE TOLD ME – she had died.
4AM WALKED INTO KITCHEN IN DARK FOR WATER, THERE WAS A FLASH OF ENERGY, December 21, 2018
At about 4AM I walked naked (I usually wear sleep clothes now, for rapture preparedness, but last night felt constricted, irritated skin, dry?) into the kitchen for lemon water (alkaline) and as I took my first step past the threshold of my bedroom door into the kitchen space there was a very fast, very intense, tight small flash of light that immediately disappeared through the wall below the window – toward the graveyard. It was very fast, very intense, very concentrated and very real and it happened like a hand clap and was gone. I felt as I poured my water like a presence lingered. I believe it was a disembodied spirit, and was keeping place with the art materials I am giving Emily. I photographed them yesterday and sent the photos to Cherie, Nichole’s roommate, since Nichole’s phone is off right now. The two boxes of art supplies are full of love. Just as when I experienced the spirit throwing my portfolio then book at the Little’s, and heard the footsteps running in the hall, so did Mamaux, just as a spirit came out of my unplugged, turned off Powerbook in 2017, this was real. It is in form like the whirl of manifestation of a jinn in cartoons. Genie. An entity.
I am so glad I am moving from here, and getting away from these demons concentrated in this forsaken church building place of pain and death. This dead town full of zombies. Not that any other location does not have them. But this ground I live on is literally full of death, being a graveyard, and old church from 1870 whose founder/minister the owners disinterred when they put in the basement steps.