OUR CONNECTION, OUR COMMUNION: I’ve known “Frank” since we were five years old

 

“Frank” and me, in our first communion outfits.

 

Spoke with a dear friend whom I will call “Frank,” and whom I’ve known since we were both five years old. He calls me once every couple of years, though I’m surprised he still does, since the last phone call made it very obvious that I do NOT suffer from TDS. He lives in New York City and on Long Island, and I imagine still reads the New York Times and listens to mainstream media, both of which I dropped like a hot potato back in 2011 and began to seek for myself, to discern for myself, utilizing a wide range of internet sources, more and more of which I include at least to “try them out” to decide if they are worth pursuing. Which reminds me: no doubt I need to update my Sources page on this blog  . . . when oh when will I find the time, between still committing to a daily blog post (with short breaks) and the long-term archival project of my written work, and the daily shifts, interruptions, confusions, releases, joys — that “living in community” entails.

So yes, I spoke to my dear friend Frank, and yes he’s very frank about his beliefs, which are, yes, still, very mainstream. He told me about his younger sister, who has recently contracted a very mysterious disease, “infectious arthritis.” Otherwise known as “septic arthritis.” Look it up. Awful. He was of course puzzled by how this could have happened to her. I am frank too, said I wondered if it was one of the diseases that have been noted since the vax. That made him pause . . . for a second. But then, quick, like lightening, he said: “Well, all I can say is that I’M FINE.”  — We had discovered that he was vaxed, and me not, on our last phone call. Which, I’m sure, shocked him. In fact, as I recall, that’s what ended the call.

So either he forgot, or he’s very brave to call again. And ask, as usual, “what’s going on with you?” To which I gave him my standard response, “What level do you want to talk on?” Of course he chuckled, kind of, and then responded, “the very very very mundane.”

So we went there for awhile, with me segueing to growing food in the green acres garden, and he talked about his garden which has been growing beautifully, he says, and is at this point quite lavish. “But I don’t grow any food,” he confesses; did I detect he felt somewhat chagrined? I responded, “But you are bringing Beauty into this suffering world. That may be the most valuable thing to do. Each flower has its own healing frequency; and the shape of each flower is, in fact, a mandala symbol . . .” He loved that.

But . . . then, rather than stay with the very very very mundane, somehow he switched us over to Maui . . . Immediately, I said I wondered whether it was caused by DEW weapons, and is it a land grab to both depopulate Maui from all but future servants and meanwhile, demonstrate a “smart” city . . . I didn’t get very far. He brought the conversation back immediately to what mainstream sources claim: the far off hurricane spouting giant winds, extremely dry conditions, etc. etc. Which may be true! And it may be that both ways of seeing this situation are real. And that, for example, black hats took a developing disaster and made sure it got rid of all those pesky natives and others who gum up their NWO plans by refusing to sell their little plots of land; or that, for example, white hats took a developing disaster and used it to clear out all those child-trafficking tunnels and DUMBS that of course infiltrate Maui as well as everywhere else. But frankly, I doubt the latter. I doubt this is a white hat op, if it is an op, because way too many hundreds of innocents are going to finally be counted as dead, when all is said and done.

And, you bet, I did NOT mention that the entire disaster might have been planned way in advance, geo-engineered, HAARP and/or other weather weapons used to dry out the land to the point where incineration was nearly inevitable.

One thing he said that I had not been aware of: most of the housing stock in Lahaina is made of wood. True? And that the Catholic Church, which did not burn — a “miracle,” some said; “clear evidence that the Vatican is involved,” said another — is likely made of stone. Bingo.

What about the boats off shore burning? I asked him. To this he had a quick answer: high winds. True? Don’t know. (I heard just this morning that some of those boats melted before they caught fire . . . Again, true?)

What about the trees still standing, I asked Frank, some of them still green, despite nearby houses reduced to ash? Without missing a beat, he responded, “I haven’t noticed that.”

In any case, though both of us are obviously deeply interested in Maui’s plight, since we use different sources, we kept getting stuck on what really went on in Maui with the fires. “Let’s not go there,” I’d say, over and over again, knowing that it would just lead to an argument. And he would agree, accept my direction.

BTW: to his response to my claim that the vax may be responsible for his sister’s newly diagnosed dire illness (I’m fine!”), I noticed at the time that I stopped myself from saying that he doesn’t really know yet, he needs to wait at least five years from his last shot before claiming that he’s “fine.” Instead, I said that I’d heard that some batches were bad some not.

One reason I didn’t hold the grim reaper over his 80-year-old head for five more years, is because, well, of course age. But also because, there’s just so much controversy about the correct protocol to follow if you have been vaxxed and are willing to admit that was a terrible idea. Not sure if any supplements protocol will work, even the one I follow (ten different pills a day, plus black seed oil and C-60). But again, at my age, who cares?

And yes, not sure that my 80-year-old self hasn’t also been vaxxed, in fact is constantly being vaxxed via shedding of both my vaxxed housemates.

In any case, Frank and I will always remember each other with fondness from the time we were little kids, and the fact that our dads were so close they were lab partners in medical school together at the University of Minnesota. History counts.  Memories count. I’m never going to give up those I love just because of ideological differences (despite their real world consequences), and feel so very sad as to how polarization and divisiveness seems only to accelerate.

Or does it? After all, Frank was the one to call me, despite knowing that my “conspiratorial” attitude, which he does not share, but which he does not blast me for either, is light years away from his continued reliance on mainstream sources.

Our connection, our communion, lies below the rational, left brain mind. Its Beauty pervades the air, like Frank’s flowers, their frequencies.

 

 

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