Existence Womb (15)

   
   "Existence Womb (15)"
   
   Miriam's conservation with her brave father, Dr. Luke, continued, wending further into the Truth of such reptilian things.
    
DR. LUKE
It's all a big lie.  Presidents elected; next bowing down to corporate America--money, more addictive than narcotics, and I'm sure you're aware of what Christ mentioned concerning the almost impossibility of a rich man inheriting heaven?  They fear God, the rich, for they are supporting their wicked pleasures, few passing through the eye of the needle, donating or giving their corporeal aspects to the needy.  Who is the Whore of Babylon--is it Iraq?  A whore kills a man, usually.  Uses him, lies to him; then, ultimately murders him.  Is it possible, America is the Whore of Babylon?

MIRIAM
I'm just a stupid teenage girl--I mean, I've turned over a library in the last few months, but I always figured America was good.

DR. LUKE
Nothing is good save God, did mention the penniless, excommunicated Rabbi--Christ Himself.  We have armed both sides, turned an evil cheek to Saudi Arabia, a great fuel for terrorism, as were their hijackers during 9/11--because we're tied in cause of their money.

MIRIAM
Are you saying America is evil?

DR. LUKE
America is concerned about itself, and itself only.  Like with college we've mentioned.  Rarely are intellects born on campus, mostly horseplay and sloppy sex goes on; next, these folks calling the rest retards, move into the lies of suburban sprawl, everything appearing ideal and sublime, yet wicked things go on in those human habitats.  Like with your Sleep Paralysis, visitations not wanted to be mentioned by our government--we want to keep the people under control.

MIRIAM
I was reading about this underground, mad poet of sorts.  His father fell ill, and his step-mother, who wickedly seduced him into a non-religious ceremony of marriage, well, she began to constantly neglect him, for years, as we've mentioned, one of the leading causes of death in America is physician and nurse error--yet stupid college folk believe all doctors to be smart.  Anyway, for years he was taking downers for restless leg syndrome, a false diagnosis; then, depression, but after intervention by the autodidact son it was Lewy Body Disease, and they were feeding him Haldol like 6 times a day, which made the Parkinson's aspects starburst into his complete paralysis.  The son was loving him for years after the initial batshit crazy of the disease began and was stupidly misdiagnosed.  He had an attorney sister, who for four months never came over to see her father, and then maybe monthly, talking for a few minutes before always making a clean getting.  Anyway, this mad poet was on Federal Disability, sick to the bone, and he was the one singularly taking care of his father--feeding him, clothing him, brushing his teeth, changing his diapers, exercising his legs and back, putting him on an organic diet, doing practically everything 24/7--even though the sister had called in for free assistance a mere six hours a day, though the pseudo-caretaker did nothing except smoke crack, put on murderous television that increased the old man's hallucinations, and shit loose stool in their only toilet--she couldn't even lift the man, and so on--did nothing but feed her morbid obesity and weak-minded drug addiction.  So, after years of this, the mad poet, knowing there was sincere neglect, incompetence, and other legal issues, especially that tied in with the Americans with Disabilities Act, well, he killed himself.  But not before leaving a note to the cops.  In the end, his father died shortly thereafter, and the step-mother, caretaker, and attorney sister were all indicted; plus, the sister got the justice of disbarment.  The mad poet was cremated and thrown in a trash can by his attorney sister--goes to show, but his long-suffering and bravery; plus, complete anguish in a monk-like dedication to protect his father, well, it led him to where he wanted to go--within the ranks of the Celestial Hierarchy.

DR. LUKE
I've heard that story--much lore there, but with lore comes truth, as in your case.  Now, we're a family again Miriam, and I will protect you and your mother; plus, I know it was the weak-minded killers of impoverished people with no real weapons in the Middle East, what I'm saying:  Our wounded warriors, who were shooting fish in a barrel, came home, got addicted to opiates and downers, overdosed, and the Federal Government regulated more all on their weak behalf.  It would be a damn shame if we ever had to take on China with Sun Tzu knowing numbers don't matter, and they have the numbers.  Or really deal with the concept of Reagan's royal admittance of alien life among us--if our warriors suffer so weakly from shooting these weak-armed fish in a barrel; next, how will they deal with a monstrous threat, as have you done, my courageous daughter?

Existence Womb (14)

   
   "Existence Womb (14)"
    
   Miriam's voluntary infusing of the herb-derived medication from Dr. Luke (Dad) reduced cranial inflammation (if necessary, but very much so after migraines from the Sleep Paralysis), proved a performance enhancer in all aspects of corporeal existence, and enabled her to move mouth muscles, invoking the Virgin Mary to inspire fear in the reptilians while they attempted to pin her down, them terrified at the name of Yeshua and His Mother; she was the egg that hatched the Divine Seed--understand?  So, she wended gallantly for a month, now back to Dr. Luke's less-than-ostentatious office, having a more metaphysical feel of ornamentation, like his bloodstone, for his secret of Inflammatory Bowel Disease; plus, hidden herb grown on his own, him knowing the controlling States, especially in the American South only produced things like syphilis and meth, because the only person you can control in life seems to be yourself.
   
DR. LUKE
I'm glad you dropped out of that high school and don't want to become a sorority girl pedagogued by demon-influenced professors, lost to the truth on Terra.  Plus, you won't have to eat Vaseline sandwiches or get spanked to secret submission--the Greeks, save the demigod Perseus, mostly distracted by Oedipal nonsense.
   
MIRIAM
I'm just happy now Dad, and glad you are supporting my autodidacticism.  The turmeric-derived medicine is helping Mom too--her less on birds and more on the Saints again.

DR. LUKE
Christ will return, but like with Fatima being covered up, the Book of Revelation has lost some of its much needed clarity.  As a Messianic Jew I know--it's all about the Middle East--now look at the world today.  Just remember as did King Solomon--no matter how much anguish you are undergoing, the King says:  "A merry heart doeth like good medicine."   

Existence Womb (13)

   
   "Existence Womb (13)"
    
   Miriam got more than a Eucharist-like mouthful of life from Dad--uh, Dr. Luke.  Regardless, he left in mercurial fashion, as if haunted by government conspiracies that he was singularly wrapped up in on his own--and Miriam could feel it with her coyote instincts, taking a heavy drag on the organic tobacco, sending her sighs and prayers to Grandfather--uh, God.
   She remembered the prodigy of Tebow in college, playing for a reptile-like dubbed team; next, thwarted by the National Football League, what, the juggernaut quarterback started in like 9 games and he won seven, while the Tennessee Titans had a QB whose named rhymed with "hamburger" and he never won a game in his life, but they kept playing him; specifically, it was like Tebow was the dangerous Maximus from GLADIATOR, elevating the people to God not wanted by America with his protestant mysticism, an unusual thing in itself, as Martin Luther was basing things on a singular verse while Christ confirmed to the Ultimate Reptile that:  "Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word breathed from the mouth of God."  Yup, take everything in, even the Gnostic Gospels, and what is Gnosticism without the mention of Mani?  That man, claiming to have met his angelic twin, claiming to be the Holy Spirit incarnate; next, his body beheaded and stuffed with straw--people like to teach goody goodies lessons, unless they're the quintessential Christian sorority girls going commando underneath their blue jeans in case a frat boy wants to do jello shots off a shaved pubic region--what a life.  
   But Miriam felt the sands of time--not running out, but flowing in her immortal direction.  Us all immortal, that spirit of light infused into hairy man years ago so we could find gold as mentioned by Sumerian Texts and all the ancient astronaut theory she was digging into.  Angels, aliens, whatever--isn't it all synonymous?   She took another drag, having the placebo effect of it curing her from anxiety and disease, it would work as it had done some of the longest-living folk on Earth, them claiming tobacco was a soothing lovemake, not minding the Surgeon General's warning, and she reminded herself--one of the leading causes of death in the United States is totally physician and nurse error.  They just wanna go home and get laid like everyone else save the sublimity of ascetic healers that know their astrological signs as was mentioned by Hippocrates and further used by Ronald Reagan, the only President to publicly admit that the invaders were already among us.
   "What a bunch of shitty slaves we are."  Miriam muttered to the Four Winds blowing delicately in her suburban sprawl.  

Existence Womb (12)

   
   "Existence Womb (12)"
   
   Miriam thought of the Mujahideen in Afghanistan and how the Brotherhood of Evil, fueled by the Saudi Arabians continued during W.'s watch, oil for weapons and bullshit, THE CLASH punk rockers mystically united with 1980's truth, resonating futureways, and now, ISIL ranked quasi-eternal by Twitter, Facebook, and all the reptilian propaganda to further propel the celebrity of us unknowns--Barbara Walters does not know the most 15 fascinating people; God has his own celebrities, and this wicked thirst to be personally celebrated and heard while not minding the existence of God--a Multiverse is definitely behind the Big Bang (just a weak theory), proving Aquinas' point of exterior propulsion blasting consciousness into super-symmetrical creation, knowing the Multiversal God was:  SIMPLY--ALWAYS HOLDING ON--WILLED BY WICCA-LIKE BELIEF--JESUS BOASTING ON BELIEVING--EXISTENCE CRAFTED BY BELIEVING, even before the conception of the lesser gods and their superior cognizance.
  Still, Miriam was relieved by the truth of it all.  The reptilians, that snake in Eden's sanctuary, God can't even take a nap for Christ's sake, and their Trojan Reptile slithers on in, full of worse than Pandora's Box--them Greek gods always doing hanky-panky and full of prank playing mischief, when the 13th god of them Nordics was true mischief, yet full of jocularity to entertain, while Satan entertains not, even losing the name of Lucifer, as went his further blasphemy to not submit to man, an assistant of God's lonely experiment.

"Saint Uriel the Arch-Angel of Justice--please, I beg of you, come to me!!!" Miriam invoked the bravest and boldest, though knowing, unlike Raphael, Uriel was not keen with a sense of humor.    

And she sang:

All the metaphors of life are contained in a season of Seinfeld,
And Saint Nicholas mutated a freak reindeer for Christmas to be healed;
Alas, I still believe in the fruitcake magic of a God making Earth's lifeforce mostly beetles,
For what good is the flu shot if you can't trust the government and children are phobic of needles;
Moreover, Mother Russia with NATO nukes on their perimeter
When Kennedy went wacky after Cuba nearly got a nuclear scimitar;
Regardless, swing the slow turtle in the breeze,
And know that death is enlightenment if it is birthed from the glamour of long-suffering ease.   

Existence Womb (11)

    
   "Existence Womb (11)"
    
   Miriam lit up the prayer-giving aspects of organic tobacco next to her mother on the couch--a Bing Crosby movie was playing along with Bob Hope as a sidekick on the tube--it had something to do with Sinbad the Sailor before all Muslims were demonized and bad deals done by W. assisting Saudi Arabia with the increasing iniquity of oil, money, and greed.  Then, a knock at the door; next, it opened, Dr. Luke (Miriam's Dad) walking through casually, sauntering with a handsome Glenn Ford cowboy swagger, that dude always getting aimed at by six-guns cause other cowboys were jealous of his androgynous looks that made the ladies swoon.  Whatever--it was all cool now, the threesome, the family of Jew and Gentile on the couch crying, hugging, and the conversation initiated into a wending symposium of weird.
   
DR. LUKE
Miriam, I have always been close but so far; nevertheless, I am here now--here to stay.  I brought with me some turmeric-derived medicine for your mother's neurological condition--it will resurrect greater cognizance.  The Universities out West are transcending even the Ivy League institutes, but you didn't hear that from me since I went to Princeton; regardless, I brought you some herb-derived medicine as well.  The same kind General George was using, and with those same fibers the first American flag was forged; then, General George left after his second year as President, to be replaced by a sublime doppelganger of sorts.  Mr. Washington went on a great adventure of healing his inflamed gums by chewing herbs cooks in butter, knowing the Indian seed had miraculous and benevolent potential--the reason the Southern States won't allow it, knowing people will begin to ask questions.  This herb-derived medicine will enlighten you to a sense of Krishna-like strength, where as like the young David--you can slay giants.
   
MIRIAM
Why now Dad?  I mean, you had so much time?  And it feels bizarre even calling you that, like incest or something.
  
MIRIAM'S MOM
The Grackle will come no more.  Now I will see the Rook, and remember my homeland of England.
  
DR. LUKE
Yeah, where so many reptilians have gotten into the royal bloodline.  Otherwise, it's a jolly and fabulous place.  But whatever--give your Mom the new medicine Miriam, and you take yours.  Look, they can hear us, but because of the stones in this house, and a device crafted by an excommunicated Rabbi who was an autodidact, building mystical shields from herbs, stones, and a hint of wisdom from the original KARATE KID  movie, I can scramble their complete knowledge--and when I go to my death my precious and beautiful daughter, it will pass to you.  But take the new medicine, designed by God himself--the human body was built with receptors for psychoactive herbs and the sublimity of spices.  Things will get better, and I will present to you allies in futurity.
  
MIRIAM
Like Wookiees?   Miriam snorting a joke--just happy to have a Mom and Dad, at the moment.   

DR. LUKE
You would be surprised at the truth of THE SIX MILLION DOLLAR MAN fighting Bigfoot in the 1970's.  Like with myth, our weirdest culture has truth to it.     

Existence Womb (10)

   
   "Existence Womb (10)"
    
   Miriam couldn't believe what Dr. Luke had confessed to her--it was all soooo very bizarre, yet tranquil.  Especially the Chiastolite, wearing it as an amulet of sorts to ward off the reptilian paralysis of slumber with sodomy, implantation, monitoring, and all the rest for the chosen to be blessed demonic or victimized as slaughtered lambs--those slimy, cold-blooded bastards wanting to tear away at the immaculate flesh of the lovely flock.
   So, Miriam raced home on her 50cc scooter, again, pushing it to the redline, not minding that the engine may overload as it shot black smoke from its wimpy muffler, buzzing non-eloquently, like a beehive disturbed by some wandering child thinking it a pinata. 
   As she entered her house, having safely anchored the scooter on its kickstand, her Mom was deliriously talking to herself about the Grackle again, that mysterious bird, like a Rook but highlighted with blue hues atop its head, as if a halo granted from the shimmering rainbow praise of God and gifted to the Saints like the little fool for Christ, Saint Francis himself. 
   Miriam took a sweet hold of her mother, shaking her in a gentle, almost baby-rocking fashion, wanting the truth of her life, and the lives of all others manipulated and monitored to be unearthed, asking gently:  "Mom, why didn't you tell me Dr. Luke is Dad?  Why didn't you tell me?"
   Her Mom, saliva dripping forth from a mouth corrupted by neurological distress muttered:  "That crazy, old Hebrew man.  What a lovely way to make love; next, fade away into government cover-ups.  He did it Miriam, my child.  He finally passed the torch onto someone who can make a difference."
   Miriam was like:  "What me?  I'm just a naive teenager with visions."
   Mom back with:  "So was the Virgin Mary.  Now wrap that Chiastolite around your neck, and blast off to God.  Oh my--it's Grackle season I do believe."    

Lovejoy Murdered

   
   "Lovejoy Murdered"
   
Disabled, yet neglected;
Nevertheless, karma is a bitch, and your life by the Multiverse rejected;
Indeed, feed the sick, change their diapers, lift them to and fro, I am knighted,
Carrying the woefully weary in my emaciated, disabled arms
While you wish for her death and my disability to be further disarmed--
An attorney full of neglect and envy--
It's not my fault you are the mirror image of a pint-sized Rick Perry, not lengthy--
It has all been on my bleeding large intestine's back;
Moreover, night terrors, Sleep Paralysis, OCD with Tics--praying for a heart attack;
Plus, Ulcerative Colitis and blood transfused,
Suffering in chronic pain while you further like the disabled to be abused--
And I'm penning this in like 5 minutes, a quicksilver galore,
While you ride the ridicule of Babylon's Whore,
Saying I have no 1st Amendment Rights, and denying my ill-fated plight
All because you flash the Johnny Football sign of money being God and the Almighty Right,
Though you never put on the pads, taking sweet hits that taste like golden honey--
Thinking our synergy of suffering is hilarious and funny--
Unethical, poltroon-like, and propelling neglect,
Did I mention the Americans with Disabilities Act for the sick sect?
Regardless, it all will come back on you,
By the diabolical demons that haunt; still, they can't tame your inner shrew,
And I feed, fold, brush, bathe, walk, talk to the sick as if they're actual souls
While the rest of you pay your reptilian tolls,
Enjoying the savor of being drunk, fat, and totally stupid,
Educated by nonsense, thinking Turks, Persians, and Arabs better if killed and polluted--
What crimes you have committed,
All on my back while with porn and wine-like adultery have you submitted--
It's all a murder of lovejoy,
Because you're corporeally unpleasing to the mirror's beholding eye.