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Reader Post | By Latless Susan
Unparalleled Transmission of Latless: Enhanced Human Radio (Backstory: Ages 26 to 40 Part II)
[REFLECTION: Decided to jump ahead a bit in my Latless transceived excerpts for the curious George’s among us, who wonder how data flows. Information is always flowing. Don’t need, never did, “modern” technology to harness, process or distribute it. Neo-AI is amusing to the mystically inclined. The brain trust is, was, and ever will be found in the simple, the ordinary, the analog least likely among us. “How’s it hanging” can just as well refer to the direction your toilet paper rolls out as to anything else that can be easily switched. If God was wise enough to make everyone distinctive (Not even identical twins have perfectly exact DNA matches.), then would not universal/standardized medicine, by definition, be barbaric? A sign of regression versus a discriminant analysis of the reality precedingly and presently encompassing us? One size never fits all. We are each unique. None are special because all are special. Worthy ones respect and value life in any form it may be found, wherever it habituates, and whenever in its journey it exists. Such is this day’s pontification. I’m increasingly feeling Latfull.]
THE BEST WORST THING HAPPENED TO ME
Events between 1998 – 2000: Sevierville and Nashville, TN; Pensacola, FL; Gulf Shores, AL; Manhattan, NY; DC; White Sulfur Springs, WV; Fort A.P. Hill, Bowling Green, VA; Lake of the Woods, VA; Norfolk, VA; Hwy 81/US 15, TN to NY
Below redacted from my testimony given in 2003, Columbia, SC:
“Brainwashing: All around me, everything was in echo. People parroted whatever I said. It had something to do with Alice in Wonderland, but I couldn’t then explain it.
Different colors, flags, lights blinking (one if by land, two if by sea), sounds of construction and torture, hand movements and phrases seemed to cause me to behave in certain ways, but I couldn’t stop it. Felt like I was being driven crazy, and I felt helpless. I knew deep inside that I’d encountered this before, but it would be years later before I’d remember the who, what, how, when, where or why of earlier exposures.
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When I questioned things, I was punished, isolated or ignored, made to feel non-existent. I was exposed to weird beings doing inexplicable things. Death was everywhere. Overheard whisperings about funeral homes, disappearing people, and child sacrifices. I was tortured, but cannot prove it. I was drugged and buried alive as part of a dark occult ritual. I was “the little pigeon” and “we don’t often get one like you.” The latter I then assumed because I was a well-educated professional from Manhattan (My home from where I’d been led away).
The mocking was non-stop. Everything about me was demeaned and degraded, from my appearance to my education. Told I couldn’t trust anyone, not even my family. That everyone wasn’t who they seemed, my parents weren’t really mine. Told I was a mistake, everything bad that ever happened to me was “All God’s fault”, that God hated me.
During this time, I was also being pushed toward a divorce neither I nor my husband wanted; almost drowned in the shipping lane in Pensacola Sound, but rescued at the last minute by the Coast Guard. Met controlled people in Pensacola, FL, Gulf Shores, AL, and Sevierville and Nashville, TN; almost suffocated by smoke inhalation when a fire lit in a mountain-house fireplace with its dampers closed wherein I passed out, but was awakened “just-in-time” by the “landlord”; caused to swim in a pool with chemicals that burned my skin; lured into the TN country music entertainment industry, including being a driver for a minor celebrity’s local appearances; being a license plate reader up and down Highway 81 and Route 15 (TN to NY) where I felt led to read license plates and then give (verbalize) them an alternative meaning, as if they were somehow coded, felt like a traffic enforcer; drove without a destination but impressed as to which way to turn and when and ended up usually at a hotel where I’d check in and try to sleep or felt I had to watch certain television programs, with true rest typically escaping me; a few times time was displaced—trips that should take about 11 or 12 hours happened in under 6; I had a few times where I wasn’t driving on the highway anymore but driving through some empty, white space, nothing there but just a single gas station or fast food type place and they were of no name (brand) that I could identify, and usually in bright neonish type light and color; even colors that I’ve never seen in the natural world (Sometimes had the impression I was driving in an alternate world, the highway had lights where the painted lines should be.); incident of time going backwards–once literally saw the clock change before my eyes.
(October 1999, Manhattan) Invited to give a presentation to the Rotary Club of New York. I’d titled it Making It on the Dirt Road of Life: Lessons for Leaders. I entered a room full of men, perhaps 30 or so, sitting at tables around the room; being introduced; nothing in-between for the next 40-45 minutes; then being aware again at the end of the talk (as if I knew what I’d just spoken about); a man in the back of the room addressing me before the group, to say, “If you’re right, then we’re all wrong”. I think I made an appropriate polite reply. Then shown the way out.
Enter Controlling Destroyer: New Year’s Eve 1999, at a party at a theater in TN where my minor celebrity “friend” was performing, I was drugged. I remember dancing on stage for some time in a swirl (like being spun–spin, spin, spin), with people laughing as the clock struck midnight.
I was entered into by a major dark power “Controlling Destroyer”. Soon after, my life fell apart. I instantly knew I was being prepared for some kind of sacrifice. I was terrorized, screaming inwardly at the top of my mind. I cried out, “If anyone is out there, won’t you help me.”
Not long after, I was in White Sulfur Springs, WV, sitting in a restaurant at Greenbriar Hotel. I’d no idea how I came to be there or why I was there. What I was aware of was being controlled in what and how I was eating (food intake controlled; food tasteless, like cardboard), and urinating, as if on cue. [Later, there were smells and tastes that appeared to have their origins in some other dimension.] From Greenbriar, somehow ended up at Fort A.P. Hill Army base, Bowling Green, VA where I was apparently expected. Asked if I was a “Navy Seal”; treated like a sweet little girl. One man took me to the base commissary and bought me hair barrettes and a small comb. I was given info [somehow uploaded to my mind] on “mirrors program”, which was taken off me at Hay Adams Hotel, Washington, DC, where I checked into a room and [info was extracted].
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Recovery: Things were hazy, but I was somewhat aware, just couldn’t pull myself out of it. In it while observing it. Surreal. It’d be months later before a path opened to come out from those experiences. God used some humiliating and painful circumstances to “shock” me awake, but in hindsight, they served to rescue me and put me on a path out of the hell by which I’d been commandeered. The shock caused a flood of recall, and of understanding beyond my then perceived mental capacity. My awakening process was, as was my power against such forces, radically enhanced.
[I think so many tried to tune-in, I fell apart in the pile-up. Yet was opened up as a result. Evermore memories surfaced, with healing in their wake. Every downside has an upside.]
I was privileged to have spiritually mature and strong persons who, soon after the Greenbriar and related incidents, entered my life to teach me how to focus more effectively. They counseled me, prayed with and over me, and led me in series of spiritual renunciations and d
enouncements, covenant-breaking rituals, and deliverance procedures. Owing to their help, I was set free of that mind-control and that dark spirit and its assigns, and armed with better tools to at least survive future encounters or experiences of like nature.
ADDENDUM: No matter how deep you were put in, there is always a way out. ALWAYS! It starts with a decision, a mental ascent, even if no one around you can be trusted or told. God hears the quiet ruminations of the mind. We are never alone. That is a good thing for the God-ward of mind.
Thank you for tuning in. To be continued . . .
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