Nothing better than Lucinda when you’re feeling…why, I don’t know what I am feeling, exactly. A bittersweet mix of gratitude, prayer and high anxiety, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
It is becoming obvious to me that some of us woke folks are starting to show signs of battle fatigue. Some are losing their cool, and others (we are all in different stages of discovering the truth) are losing their religion, literally. When you realize that the Pope is a satanic pedovore, that there is a dungeon in the Vatican, where they sacrifice children to satan-or that Hillary Rodham Clinton is actually in the exact same league? Not only are you mustering up each and every crumb of courage in your body, but you are being traumatized-over and over again.
Until I met my friend Kat, I didn’t realize just how far removed I have been from society. Oh, I have a handful of extremely close friends-but I can count on one finger how many of them know the truth. And she pretends she doesn’t when her man is around, so, yes, I would say I am very much alone, but didn’t fancy myself lonely until today, on the phone with Katherine.
“I saw the picture of the child that Hillary raped and murdered, Sara. A woman on Twitter sent it to me, and I can’t sleep. I can’t believe I saw that picture…”
We spoke for over an hour, taking great solace in the company of another soul who sees reality for what it is, and not what they want you to think it is. Another human who has broken through the programming we have all had aimed at us since birth. That’s right: they have brainwashed us via music, movies and news-nothing, and I mean nothing is as it appears to be.
What hurts us both the most? The cold shoulders, family interventions, wide eyed stares into the abyss-each and every time we open our mouths. She fought with her husband last night, and her family made her promise not to talk about John F. Kennedy, Jr. again. You see, she had told her entire brood that he was going to be at the 4th of July festivities, not unlike my experience last Thanksgiving, when I announced to Dwain’s entire family that John would be in the Macy’s Day Parade.
“I’ll never make that mistake again,” I told her.
Just moments later I realized that I had told you, my 400 followers! that John John would come out in Washington, D.C.-on the fourth of July.
Here’s the deal: we wouldn’t risk everything in our lives, be it our family’s trust or the job we love, for some whack job’s conspiracy theory.
We know shit.
Things I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy, but there is little we can do to spare you the pain we know so well. God will do that.
And as much as it irritates the shit out of me?
We’ll be here when you need us.