Dreams of Insurrection Act, Martial Law


Spoke with president Donald Trump last night; had a long, candid conversation with him. He was sleeping alone, Secret Service agents posted at the door, oblivious, guarding the only entrance to his presidential bedroom. I came in through the ceiling.

One of the mistakes many rookies make, when you travel The Ether—astral projection/remote viewing, (whatever the fuck you choose to call it)–keep your mouth closed!

If your mouth remains open, while your astral body projects out, your tongue will dry up. You’ll feel extreme thirst. It’s almost impossible to remain at the target location if this occurs. Like a bungie chord reaching its limit, you’ll violently snap back to wherever your physical body is.

When I first started projecting my astral body, at distance from my physical body, I was 13 years old living in Florida. My sifu, who was also my step father, was amazed with how easily I mastered the process. Traveling the etherial plane just seemed natural to me, as natural as breathing, or pissing, or sleeping, or self hypnosis, or chi expulsion, or shock hypnosis—ya da, ya da, ya da.

Probably shouldn’t be telling you this shit, I mean, if the Secret Service realizes highly-trained humans can literally float through their defenses, penetrate a president’s dreams, and communicate directly with the commander in chief—while he’s sleeping—they’d probably panic. Is this a vulnerability? Prob’ly.

It’s no different really than the asshole reporters at Trump’s press conferences shouting out loaded questions. “President Trump, what do you say to critics who believe you only lowered the black unemployment rate to deflect from the fact that you’re such a racist?”

Gag reflex is evolution’s design to save a person from ingested poison.

Seriously though, the press pool has been ruthless and shameless in trying to force their direct message into the minds of the American people. Shouting so-called questions they know Trump won’t answer, or that can’t even be dignified with a response.

How can you respond to a person who calls you a racist inside a question? A punch in the face would be my response.

Perused the ten commandments yesterday: punching a face was not prohibited, but spreading false witness was. Call me a racist, broadcast it on TV or online—I’ll find you and punch you in the face. God will forgive me since physically punishing someone else is not a sin. God won’t forgive you, slander is a listed sin.

The ten commandments is a pretty short list, when you think about all the shitty things a person can do to another person. Rape isn’t even on the top ten list. Physically hurting someone else isn’t listed either.

Torture? Nope. Break out the pliers.

The fact that you can torture someone and not break the ten commandments, that’s an oversight God, or whoever edited the ten commandments should have caught. God needs a better editor, the Catholic Church did a shitty job.

Is rape only forcing yourself on someone sexually? Anal. Vaginal. Oral. Ear rape should be a crime. Watching a press conference on America’s unemployment rate when some dip-shit reporter asks about racism? Ear rape. Mind rape. But like I said, rape isn’t a sin. Neither is astral projection.

So anyway, I wrote a letter to President Donald Trump. Spent a few days crafting it. The letter contained all the reasons why I felt Trump was gonna lose the election to Joe Biden.

Instead of mailing the letter, I memorized it—line for line. After traveling to DC via The Ether, upon entering Trump’s brain and reading the letter’s contents to him, Trump replied, “You think I don’t know this?

What am I? A baby?

You think I’m a baby?

You think you can teach me a political lesson?

I’ve never lost an election—I’m undefeated. Yes, I know I’m going to lose the 2020 election—no matter what I do. It’s rigged. The Democrats are packing the ballot box.

I’m gonna sit back, watch them rig it. My NSA is recording every phone call; tracking every dollar they spend.

After the fake news announces I’ve lost, I’ll contest the loss on Twitter. There’ll be uprisings and counter uprisings. Riots. Blood in the street. When it’s over, I’ll still be standing.

The American people will back my play. No one will respect the results of a rigged election. Even most Democrats will know something’s wrong with the results.

I can’t think of a better excuse for military involvement—martial law—while the traitors are rounded up and arrested. I promised to drain the swamp, what better way to accomplish this?”

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