I'm back now and thanks for caring, everyone. <3
I was very busy waging Spiritual Warfare,
as witnessed by Mommy#3 Wendy McAvene @TrinityBeliever
I also diagnosed myself with Endometriosis. Or I think I did.
The Spiritual Warfare was with myself.
On checking back on my posting and publishing history, I realize I have made quite a slip-up.
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| Cretins make fools of self and others |
It's like I'm my Own Worst Enemy, when it comes to my credibility, which has been under attack more than ever in recent times. The strain is getting to me, coming as physical symptoms. Of Endometriosis.
Here's what happened. I was watching this video from last year. When I see myself acting it cheers me up.
Well, usually. But not this time.
Just after the bit where I talk about burying the body parts of my chopped up baby sister Lily, I go off on a tangent about the Woods of Horror, which are right next to Lily's final resting place.
In the video - do please take a look - I talk about staying with a bloke called Charlie, and this really sick ordeal he used to subject me to in these Woods. A game of being chased or hunted, then raped, by "pedophiles jumping out from behind the trees".
In the video, it is Charlie who takes me there and Charlie who picks me up after these ordeals, so I say. I did not mention my parents in relation to this Woods story, in this video.
Just Charlie and a bunch of anonymous male and female rapists...and the dead children hanging from the trees. Let's NOT forget the dead children hanging from the trees!
However, ALAS! as all not very clever liars do, I seem to have forgotten to check back on my depraved fantasies, and later on made a dramatic spectacle of this almost same story on Twitter last year and this year.
I re-tweeted this woeful dross so much, and it was then re-tweeted by many other cretins, probably hundreds of times. I got a lot of mileage out of the Woods of Horror story.
And over 135,000 views to date.
(I pinched the whole dopey larpy idea from my mentor Cathy O'Brien).
I hope you are with me so far.? So this is where my teeny tiny problem comes up.
My Youtube video names a family friend called Charlie as the perpetrator who delivered me to the Woods of Horror where I was subjected to these torments, and then Charlie who would take me home again.
That place was where I saw "Dead children Hanging from The Trees" !!!! The second worst memory I have! How could I forget it? How could I then forget key details and get the perpetrator confused with my biological parents,
neither of whom is called ....Charlie !?
So then I started tweeting out that it was my biological parents who subjected me to these being chased-in-the-woods-by-pedophiles ordeals? OOOOPS!
In my defense, this tweet storming was well after I made the video, which is why I forgot some of my tangled web bits and pieces.
My Mommy #2, Catherine Elifritz Moncada then conflated my two versions of this woefully inept fiction into one, and gleefully tweeted out all 3 accused names as the Woods perps, so I guess I even confused her!
So sorry, Mommy #2. I really have made more of a fool out of you haven't I?
I hope Jesus will forgive me, one day. I know my fans will.
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| Cretins easily get confused |
But wait! I almost forgot! There is a THIRD version of this real gone sicko fantasy of mine, that I had up for months on my GofundMe page.
I go into some detail here in a previous post but there is a new factor I next added in for bonus shock effect:
"Another one of their rituals would take part in the forest/woods.
With a camera on my head, they would make me run through the woods on a night when it was pitch black. The only light was from the moon. Men (and sometimes women) would jump out from behind the trees and rape me. The rule was, every time I was caught, a piece of clothing would be taken from me. It wouldn't be long before I was running around naked. I would see children sacrificed on an alter (sic) then these satanic pedophiles would rape the dead child after drinking the blood. "
- a few little details I omitted from the Video and from the tweets, but I like my fictions to build, creatively, over time. You must understand this. You could call it organic evolution.
I have every right, to evolve and make it up as I go along, just as you have every right to question the finer details. I can always say to you:
"Oh me oh my! It's too traumatic for me to recall again! Don't put me through it and make me relive it all over - you cruel inquisitors you! "(followed by some convincing tears.) This has always worked on my 2 Patriot famiwies.
Sorry about the jumbles and repeating myself here. It's the state I am in.:(
You wonder why I have had so many referrals to Mental Health professionals?
Look at the contents of my imagination. I'm not Stephen King. I'm a widdle quasi-Christian, faux-Patriot gally wally, with a surprisingly filthy, debased, degenerate mind - though to be fair it is all extremely derivative and recycled, in terms of the old Satanic Panic drivel from years ago.
But I digressed again. Sorry fans.
So why am I worried you might ask? As I confided in you before, judges are smart.
THEY are not cretins... and as attorneys they are trained to have eagle eyes for inconsistencies in stories.
I can't fool them. Who am I kidding?
So I have gotten so sick, and and now I am just kicking myself that I have been so careless, when fiction has been my main occupation for so long!
I have really let myself down once again. Apart from Endometriosis, I keep on having nightmares about this :
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| My recurring nightmare |
...but you know what they say
*sigh*
maga
