More Answers to Readers by Zoma

This is again from the same session. I’ve been breaking it up as the info is kind of intense. I am of the belief that there is always a chance to turn things around. I suppose I am naturally an optimist. However Zoma is not of the same mind. And of course in all of our dark moments we all worry that things have gotten so bad that there is no recourse. I still believe there is or why would this information be coming?

I haven’t had a chance to blog because my little daughter has been really sick and all my time has been spent taking care of her. She’s sleeping right now so I’m doing this before she wakes.

Here’s the transcript of the next question and answer:

Q:Hi Denise,
When will there be cures for the many types of cancers plaguing our people? Are there already cures, but because of the corrupted profit making business corporations including cancer organizations that make tons of money, will this be available to the public and those that need these cures?

A: We have cures to cancer, which have been shown to your people. The problem is a combination of electrical interference, which creates a chemical reaction. So far it is the chemical reaction that has been mostly dealt with by science, as this is the most financially advantageous. However cancer is on the rise not just because of toxins and chemical exposure but because of electro magnetic fields that have been disturbed in the human body due to these neuro toxins There are currently ways in which science can cure many forms of cancer outside the known and predominate conservative means.

Genetic manipulation can cure cancers that have a genetic component and even cure those that don’t, however, those that don’t need the underlying cause to be dealt with which is often more complicated than a simple genetic mutation. For those types of cancer electrical magnetic and chemical balancing will be needed to cure the cancer rather than just cut it out or treat it with the fear of it reoccurring due to the underlying cause being left untended.

Yes, you are right in your intuition that the major drug companies and the health care industry do not want true cures to any disease as this would inevitably lead to huge losses in revenue. However there are some workings within the system now that know what we are talking about and are trying to move forward with research that will inevitably be perfected and utilized after the culling.

Blessings to all and continue to find God within and within all beings you come in contact with,

Denise

More Answers to Readers by Zoma

Readers Answered by Zoma

Before I post this I would like to warn people that Zoma is very matter of fact and doesn’t really pull punches. It was my belief when I started channeling this being in the early 1990s that it was of ET origin or Extra-dimensional or perhaps both. This being does not exhibit emotional behavior in the way we do and some of the information brought forth can be disturbing.

However, ultimately, we as human beings can change our path and alter the future. I truly believe that otherwise what would be the point of knowing possible outcomes? 

This next question was asked during the same session as the last. I had planned to post it along with all the others I received but decided that it was too much to absorb in one go and went with breaking up each question and answer for each post so one could really think about and examine the answer. I decided to do this because the answers to these particular set of questions, were disturbing to me.

Q: I would like to know, if Remote Viewers are correct in foretelling of a Massive Global Catastrophe on horizon involving Tsunami? Indications are it could either be a Asteroid Hitting Ocean, or a Major Earthquake. The viewers see Both Florida and California as Major Impact. Also, does Zoma see an event occurring here within the United States involving the collapse of the financial markets and a New World Order take over? 

A: The coasts are both extremely vulnerable for different reasons and various obligations. A war is in the stages of being planned – a third world war. California is the target of part of this plan, southern California, the Los Angeles area. Tsunamis have been foreseen, they will occur on the west coast but not as one might imagine. They will not be entirely from natural causes. Hurricanes and major storm systems are going to be the main threat for the entire eastern coast including Florida and even parts of the southern US. However these events will happen over periods of time, not all at once. In fact the spacing of events will be such that people will become used to them and in fact adapt to some extent, which will be their demise.

During the start of this new eon many will be murdered. The plan is bigger than one can imagine right now it has been in place as the dark decisions of mankind are now catching up with him. This is a reaping a time of reckoning and then a time of cleansing, and finally renewal, but many less people will be here on the planet for the renewal than exist on the planet now.

A hundred years from now the earth will feel almost empty of human life as those who stay conscious will be kept from the worst of it and those who get lost in the routine mechanizations of culture will be swept away.

As for the collapse of the financial market this is a major concern – however there are two roads that are still available. One that leads to total collapse and the other that will lead to a long and waning economic recovery that will take generations to get used to. Resources during the next twenty to thirty years will be at a premium and difficult to come by, wages will continue to be stagnate and people will find their standard of life falling drastically in the west, much closer to the way people live in developing nations. However those who take heed and prepare by learning real skills that can help them such as basic farming, sewing – things that the early settlers were taught, even basic medicinal use of herbs will be much better off and those who are willing to help their neighbors will find that communal groups will do better than nuclear families in this new economic system. So we suppose that either way this will be a major turn downward for many years to come. Once this period has ended and the emphasis on science and technology (Which will be happening along side of this in the shadows) is brought forth and made available to the general populous, the world will advance overnight and many breakthroughs in science and technology that will appear almost miraculous will come to pass.

OK in case you didn’t notice Zoma referred to a murdering of lots of people. I am not sure what exactly was meant by this, I will have to do a follow up. I think since the question has “The New World Order,” in it – Zoma meant that plans were being made to kill off large numbers of people so a small group of elites could live longer, more extravagant lives. This is something I would never have thought of and it is a very disturbing one to me. To think that there would be people plotting mass genocide for their own gain is horrifying – although as we know historically, it is one of the sick sides of our nature. I can only think that it is this “New World Order,” that is in control of these plans as Zoma does not mention any other group or particular country. 

I am also not sure if Zoma is stating that the reaping time and the culling, etc. are due to our own compliance in this deranged system of exploitation or if this is a much larger culling that is needd for the earth to survive due to an overabundance of human beings. I am quite sure that if we had put our heads together and went the way of those leaders in the 1960s who valued humanity, we would have found a way to live off planet and perhaps address overpopulation in a non-violent way. However it seems that our choice to not address these issues and instead involuntarily participate in the mass exploitation of resources including human beings, animals, vegetation, oil and minerals and anything else we have found useful, has led us to a false unsustainable standard of living. 

It’s a lot to think about. I will post the next Q &A in the series from that session tomorrow.

Many blessings,

Denise

 

I will also continue to take your questions and do more sessions.

 

Readers Answered by Zoma

Zoma Answers Readers…

I cut and pasted the questions into word and went into a trance, reading the questions and asking Zoma to answer.

Zoma has a strange quality. He/she refers to itself as a WE for some reason. It appears to be an extra-dimensional entity that is a collective. I’ll leave it at that for now, more on Zoma later. 

Here are some of your questions asked and answered:

Q: Can Zoma provide us with information on any possible upcoming earth changes in the next few months and also any information on dimensional vibration shifts during this time? (possibly new earth related?)

 

A:  There is a magnetic line and opening that goes through the heart of the US. From Minnesota down through Oklahoma and into part of the edge of Texas. The line extends all the way to the north pole. This magnetic line is part of the new eon. It is akin to a vortex, there will be many strange and unusual events surrounding this line, inter-dimensional beings, UFOS seen and earthquakes that have never occurred before. It is and has to do with the magnetic field of earth that is a split that is deep and wide and odd weather phenomena will also occur. The strongest part of the fissure is over parts of Oklahoma. This is where very unusual weather events will transpire. We all know about the usual things that the entity known as Denise has foretold. This is a new issue not shown to that entity.

 

Zoma Answers Readers…

Truth To Power

When we stand together and use our voices they can not be silenced no matter how many voting machines they rig, or voters they scam off the rolls. I was never nervous about this election until I went to our polling place and found out how crazy things were going down there. Then I worried (human fear not intuition fear) that somehow fate would be thwarted in some evil Faustian deal with the devil made by Romney.

This election was settled by Spirit in the first days of December of 2011 as I posted back then and everything Spirit told me (I don’t know what else to call it) came to pass exactly. Now I know why my Aunt was laughing her head off and saying that I would be right. She knew I would be freaking out like everyone else. She tried to calm me but I am human and a Romney/Ryan presidency would be a disaster for the world – seriously.

Anyway I am SOOO Happy that the right man is in the job and that the Universe is  moving forward as it should – that no amount of money or powerful idiots could change what was meant to be. It is because of us – the people who saw through all of the lies and deception. I have never been prouder of the US not because Obama won but because people GOT IT!

Thanks to all who have participated and to all who have been reading my frantic freak-out blogging.

Peace, abundance and blessings to all,

Denise

And thanks to my deceased Aunt Doris and Grandmother Minnie for appearing yesterday in an effort to reassure me (and my readers) once and for all despite knowing it wouldn’t work.

Truth To Power

Premonition about Hurricane’s in New York

Here is a science fiction book that I published for a while on this site. I took it down because a publishing company is interested in putting it out. It needs some editing but it has won several small literary prizes. I wrote it back in 1999. It took a few years of editing and rebuilding the middle section to make it work the way I wanted it to. However the vision I had of New York being hit by a hurricane is in it. In actuality the entire novel came from visions I had of the future. I have taken an excerpt from the novel and am publishing it here. In the book the only two cities still left (in terms of major cities functioning as such) are New York and Washington, D.C. The main character Psyche and her boyfriend Ira live in Washington D.C. she is unknowingly working on a secret black op project for the government through a private company. Her discovery of this comes after this part of the book. It takes place approximately 30 years in the future:

I scooped Chi up and sat next to Ira to watch the news.

“New York City has been devastated by this unforeseen monster. Shouldn’t the NWFS have warned of this killer hurricane?” the anchorman and actor, Bill Surnow, queried. Shaky video footage from surveillance cameras around the city ran behind him. Buildings swayed from high winds and water suddenly crashed through the streets, the camera went blue. “More after we take a break,” a disembodied voice said.

I grabbed the cordless phone and dialed my mother, simultaneously asking Ira, “What’s going on?”

“Didn’t anyone tell you?”

I shook my head. “There’s a busy signal.”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying all day. They say the lines are down from North Carolina to Maine.”

I dialed my mother’s cell and waited as it endlessly rang.

Ira’s voice cracked. “I’ve already tried that number, too.”

The heroic New York, having survived terrorist attacks, plagues, and earthquakes, was now being washed to sea. The images were gruesome and horrifying. I couldn’t stop thinking about my mother’s short white hair. Her hunched feeble body and the familiar smell of her sandalwood oil, drowning.

The fear mom had to have experienced, seeing the ocean pitched like a tray of water – the sound of breaking bricks and mortar splintering, and glass shattering – people screaming.

Mom alone. Trapped in the brownstone.

Warren Street bursting with salt water, busting down the cobbled street, exploding two hundred year old row houses into broken brick walls with rocking chairs and baby’s cribs, sofas and teddy bears pouring out of holes – everything taken by the water — people struggling to grab anything floating by to keep themselves steady in the raging flood. The water infested with rats and trash, the tide crashing hard against each new building it sought to destroy.

My home.

My mother.

I was outside myself.

It wasn’t like me to cry even now the hot tightening in the deep of my throat felt like a far away tunnel. I was frozen. Emotionally paralyzed. “I spoke to her yesterday. She’s all right. Right? She’s okay, isn’t she?”

Ira moved gently across the sparse room and caught my hand in his. Its warmth momentarily penetrating my numbness.

The commercial break ended. A grim Bill Surnow stood at the anchor desk to announce, “Early estimates for Hurricane Xavier are thought to include hundreds of thousands dead and many more missing. One source reported most of Brooklyn and Long Island shore entirely decimated. There is little hope the area will ever recover.”

Bill Surnow cut to a local reporter who was standing in the middle of an ER in Queens. “The hospitals are inundated with the injured. In Manhattan F5 winds cracked and shattered windows, glass chards sharp as daggers hurtled in every direction. The scene more gruesome than words could describe.”

I dialed my mother, Miriam’s home again. Again, no use – Mom’s cell phone message in a feminine dulcet voice, sang “All circuits are busy.”

The University where she worked, recited in an ancient automated voice, “You’re call can not go through. Please hang up and dial again.” I went through lists of friends and relatives, but to no avail.

I bottled up the urge to throw the phone across the room and instead demanded of Ira, “When?”

“Around noon the Weather Service started to see signs of a hurricane gathering…”

“But how?” I asked him.

“The conditions were just right off the coast of North Carolina…”

“But why? Nothing…” I stopped myself because my voice was starting to quiver. It was as if my cranium had cracked like a polar ice cap and it was melting so fast the water was drowning me. I raised my voice at Ira, “It’s impossible.”

Ira, who had arrived at my side to give comfort, retreated. “Take it easy, Psyche everything is going to be OK.” He said this with all the skill and assurance of a man who had never had to utter such words.

“Don’t tell me to take it easy. And it’s not going to be OK. My mother is missing. She’s probably dead and you have no answers. No one has answers.” I grabbed my coat and headed toward the front door. Ira followed me.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to think.”

“You can’t go out, it’s dark and late.”

But I darted past him and left. The storm that had hit New York was coming into town and it was cool and misty out. Ira busted out the front door and ran after me. “It’s dangerous.”

“I need to be by myself.” He tried to grab me, but I shook him off. “Please. Just leave me alone.”

“When will you be back?” He pleaded. He looked concerned and confounded. In eight years I had never raised my voice or shed the smallest tear in front of him.

It was starting to drizzle and I wiped a gathered tear of rain from his cheek and said, “As soon as I can.” A moment later I broke into a run and headed into a dark alley.

I felt a drop of water run down my face and I wasn’t sure if it was me, or the rain. But it didn’t matter. I roamed the streets dotted with city lanterns and sickly trees. The cold moon followed as if mocking my pain with a twisted snarl on her face. The rain halos around the street lamps tainted with memories of Brooklyn – things I tried to hold back but couldn’t – waving good-bye to my mom from the car as she stood on the stoop, never thinking it would be the last time I saw her.

That image I couldn’t shake no matter how long or far I walked.

I hadn’t noticed time slipping by or the pound of my footsteps or the chill or the rain soaking through me until I hit the Potomac and I stared at the obstacle it posed on my quest to loose myself. I had walked at least five miles and I knew I had to get back before Ira started a vain attempt to find me. It felt like the edge of the earth and the edge of time, I was crashing and splintering like a fine piece of porcelain hitting concrete.

And then I saw them. A woman about my age, in her early thirties, holding a small limp girl in her arms and struggling to walk the rain slicked stairs.

Logic told me not to, they could have been afflicted with a plague or a crime may have been taking place, but I ran toward them. Something compelled me. And for the first time I can remember, I discarded logic and apathy.

By the time I got to them the mother was struggling to put her dying child in the car. She was about to lay the girl on the sidewalk to open the door when I took her from the woman’s hands. She looked at me as if I had always been there like some sort of guardian angel. We said nothing. She opened the door and I slid the girl into the backseat. Seconds later the woman was backing out of the driveway, barely getting the driver’s side door fully closed as she sped down the street.

On the way home I wondered about them, whether the mother had gotten the girl to a hospital in time, if the girl would survive. Helping them had for a moment made me feel a little less helpless. And through my personal darkness I treasured that feeling like an heirloom.

Ira was fully dressed and ready to start his search when I let myself in. It looked like he had been crying. The flat screen was a cacophony of devastation behind him.

“If I wasn’t so happy to see you I’d strangle you right now,” he said grabbing me.

“I’m not a child.”

“And what? You didn’t think I’d be worried? Why are you punishing me like this?”

“This isn’t about you, Ira.”

“Yes it is. It’s about you not letting me in. I want to help you, but you make it impossible.”

I nodded. He put his arms around me and held me until I couldn’t be held any longer without breaking down again. “I’m sorry,” I said.

There was a repeat of an earlier news broadcast. It was a press conference with none other then my boss Paul Lamont. I sat down to watch it.

Lamont looked too put together, in a suit that would have cost an average person a year’s wages. He was unnaturally relaxed for the circumstances. “There has been a rush to judgment by the scientific community about the Atlantic’s rise in temperature and global warming. For years I’ve poured over countless studies, reviewed thousands of reports and culled through all the supposed proof. I’ve never found a correlation. The evidence is overwhelming for a natural shift in the Earth’s climate. This has occurred many times before human history. It’s unfortunate that we happen to be living during one of these intense global changes.”

I yelled at the screen, “Fucking asshole! Those studies were done by oil companies – they have no credibility. They’ve been discredited by every independent survey done by the scientific community.”

Paul then took a question from Bill Surnow. “What about the ozone hole?”

Paul responded, “Another natural phenomena caused by radiation emitted during solar storms. We’ve seen evidence of holes before in layers of igneous rock. And it’s been repairing itself over the past forty years.”

“Bullshit,” I said.

Ira cautioned me, “Just hold on a minute,”

Bill Surnow asked his follow up, “Are you suggesting all the horrible tragedies that have occurred over the past forty years, are simply a result of natural earth changes?”

“Absolutely,” Lamont said. He waived away any further questions and left the podium.

Ira sat down beside me. “I saw it this afternoon, but I don’t get why they’re still trying to cover up the global warming thing when it’s been proven countless times.”

I hit the rewind button and replayed Lamont’s speech, freezing a medium shot of him and examining it carefully. “There’s something strange about this. I was taken in to see him this morning at work.”

A curious Ira walked back in. He asked, “You were?”

“Strauch was there, too.”

“The President was at Digibio?”

I continued to stare at the screen trying to determine what exactly was different about Paul Lamont. Was his hair a little longer? I went through the catalogue of images fresh in my mind from the boardroom meeting. Yes. But without a physical picture, I couldn’t be sure. His clothes were obviously different. The suit most patently not something he would wear to work. Of course he must have changed. Then I noted something that confirmed my suspicion.

“This was prerecorded,” I said.

“What makes you think that?”

“When I saw him this morning he had a cut on chin.” I paused the image and zoomed closer, pointing to his chin. “There’s nothing there.”

Ira squinted. “They knew this would happen.”

“Yeah, and they didn’t give us any warning.”

“But why?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I can’t think about it right now.”

 

Think about this when you decide how to vote. Is this the world you want for your children? One in which science is disregarded and we have slick politicians ready to lie to you in order to save only themselves?

Best wishes and good luck,

Denise

 

Chapter 2 – Sleepless Night

(2044, January through June)

 

 

 

Gale force winds and thunder, garbage cans crashing over, objects slamming into walls and fences, and Ira slept through all of it like a kitten cuddling at his mother’s breast – but not me. My mind and heart were on fire.

Chi followed me, meowing for treats. It was cold downstairs. The angry wind forced its way between door and window cracks. I grabbed Ira’s ratty old sweater. The first present I had given him. It was the only thing left from that period of his life, perhaps a small reminder of how far he’d come since the penitentiary. I barely knew him then. We had dated about a year. He told me he worked for an Internet research corporation, a consumer watchdog group that kept an eye on the defense department – it had some crazy name I forcibly forgot.

There was never any question. I was instantly in love and hopelessly naive about human nature. Turned out he was part of a watchdog group of hackers who stole classified information and sold it to reporters for a premium. To him it was noble, the people had a right to know and he had a right to make a living. Really, it was closest to intellectual prostitution although he saw himself as a twenty first century Robyn Hood. He could have been building something great instead of hunting down and exploiting government weakness. But who was I to judge? I knew his heart was good and his intentions were pure. And I loved him. He loved me. So I waited.

We avoided talking about it. And if we had to refer to that period there was a code – words that lessened the pain or importance for both of us. Anything to make it less real than it was. Usually if I referred to it, I said, “When you lived in the country.” He usually said, “During that time.”

When I was hired at Digibio, they ran a background check. Nothing came up in the preliminary. A month later they revoked access to anything but the chlorophyll research lab and the cafeteria. But it didn’t really bother me.

The teakettle was singing. Only one bag of Chamomile left, hopefully it would help put me in a coma. And I could wake tomorrow discovering it had all been just a horrible nightmare.

The lights browned. The drawer had only three emergency candles left from the previous storm, which had ended two weeks prior. It had lasted thirty-five days straight and the power had consistently gone out during peak hours. According to the weatherman another hurricane was due to hit North Carolina. But other than historic value there was nothing left there. Both Carolinas were dead states. Neither state had money for scrims and except for folklore about people surviving off the land in the forest – there wasn’t a soul within a hundred miles of New York or D.C. And now all that was left was D.C. There were reports of a smattering of survivors in Seattle but the numbers were low.

I walked to the sofa and stared out the window, drinking tea. Chi sat on my lap. The rain was fierce and reminded me of New York, in my mother’s old brownstone. There had been a very bad storm when I was ten. We had both woken for different reasons. The thunder and lightening had cast shadows of monsters on the wall scaring me out of the room – while Mom contended with a real beast. She was setting out buckets all over the living room to catch the water oozing out of the fissures and cracks in the ceiling. Later I found out she had been afraid the whole damn roof was going to cave in on us, but at the time she pretended it was a game – a fun thing to do together. She had me searching for bowls, buckets, and hats – until each little fissure was represented by a counterpart on the worn hardwood floor – and when a bucket would fill, she would grab one of the mongrel cups or bowls from my loot while pouring the buckets contents into the kitchen sink and then dutifully replace them.

But even though she presented a calm rational exterior I knew something was very wrong. And I remember admiring her. She was fearless, capable and godlike. Nothing could harm me with her protection. She was able to keep the world away with her brilliant mind and convert anyone in her circle of influence to her point of view.

But that night I saw panic when she didn’t know I was watching. It was complicated seeing it and not wanting to see it. So I chose to believe the buckets were a game, knowing it was a protective lie – a lie affirming her love for me.

The streetlights flickered in the rain. Some UV scrims down the block looked as if a colossal box cutter had sliced them – they flapped in the wind like serpent shaped kites.

D.C. was tolerable. It was cleaner than New York and had a much more reliable and quick acting body pick up service unlike the Corner Hut Drop Off Centers of New York, which were always teeming with mutant flies and reeked of decaying flesh no matter how often the workers cleaned them out. It was an ineffectual system and a health hazard. But you hardly ever saw the dead on the streets like you did here in D.C., even if they didn’t stay long on the walkways you were still confronted with them daily.

Maybe it was a bit healthier here but I preferred New York. It felt more like an old city, with people doing all different sorts of things besides just working for the government or on some government related project. More than anything it was my connection to a personal history I missed – even if New York barely resembled the one of my youth and even if it never snowed anymore and the winters felt like warm fall days from childhood. I knew it. Somewhere under its fading, wilting petals the stem was the same.

And despite the elaborate scrim maze providing the best UV protection in the world (or so we were told by our government) I had preferred shabby New York. If only I could have gotten my mother to move. But that was like asking lead to turn into gold. And even though it got tiresome always wearing a protection suit or carry a UV umbrella or coating my skin with titanium dioxide which made me and my mom break out like hormonal teenagers if we so much as looked at the stuff, she would hear nothing of the virtues of my new city. She desperately loved all that was left of New York.

On the steps of the apartment building across the street a black shape moved. It was big enough to be a person but could have been a box or a piece of furniture left out for trash pick-up which had caught in the gale force wind, but most likely it was one of the infected. A crack of lightening lit the street clearly and I saw the woman. Skeleton Plague. Aptly named for the visual state it left its victims in – their skin and fat tissues were literally cannibalized by their bodies immune system and the results were a horrifying sight – skin turned paper white, taught and veiny, held up by the jagged tent poles of their bones.

The government said Skeleton Plague was communicable, but it was an autoimmune disease. The scientific community was still debating its genesis and treat-ability, but that was it. We knew something was turning white blood cells into cannibalistic machines, whether it was UV-B, UV-A rays or some other solar radiation mixed with pollution we weren’t certain. There was always a new outbreak during solar flares and there had never been any evidence of it being contagious, but people were afraid and the CDC had decided early on it was best to treat it like all the other plagues that had come down the pike and keep its victims quarantined. Those that got it generally spent a lot of time outside and didn’t alter their behavior during solar flare warnings or relied only on the city scrims to protect them. The woman had probably escaped from quarantine in a vein attempt to see her family one last time, but they wouldn’t open the door for her.

In the next crack of lightening I saw her convulsing. She was in the last throws of life. I called the health department and a few minutes later I saw a Hazmat team take her body away. No fanfare, no ceremony. Life reduced to inconvenient garbage. It hadn’t always been like that. I could almost remember a different time. Mom told me crazy stories about her childhood and what seemed like an Edenic period at the turn of the century. I never really believed her until I was in college and studied history.

…..

Blessings to all – our thoughts and prayers are with all of you on the east coast,

Denise

Premonition about Hurricane’s in New York

Mars Retrograde…

Ones step forward three steps back. This is the third time we had to have the tile ripped out in our shower and replaced because it wasn’t draining. OK, this is the most annoying Mars retrograde I can ever remember. Everything feels as if it’s in limbo. So if you’re feeling this way, good news – it ends! Yeah, this week on the 11th. So things will move forward without drag again.

Also I’m hopeful (for all my clients) that construction will actually be done this week. So I’ll e-mail you all when it really is finished. This was supposed to take less than a week! Now it’s been about a month. Oh, well, I’m sorry for all of you out there who have pressing questions. For some reason however I’ve been feeling I’m not supposed to say anything right now. That the Universe has been putting obstacles in my way (in terms of doing readings and blogging predictions) for some greater purpose.

There have been some unusual phenomena around my home ( I feel sorry for my husband, he gets really freaked out by this stuff, just as my mother and brother did when I lived with them as a  kid.) Last night we were awoken at 4:18 AM by three knocks on the side of the house. Actually, it sounded like the knocks came from inside the room, they were very loud. I’ve been seeing the spirit of a Rabbi (from the early 1900s late 1800s) outside looking into my house and walking up to my door, each time he came it was a few days before a major earthquake. I know he’s trying to tell me something, but he seems to have trouble communicating. I suppose I have to invite him in to have a chat which I’m not really all that into doing. Instead I might just continue trying to talk to him while out and about. I have heavy protection around my home, even my relatives couldn’t get in until I gave them direct permission.

If anyone is having problems with unwanted visitors use the Lesser Pentagram Ritual and do it every  night. ( You can search Lesser Pentagram in the blog’s search function and there are detailed instructions with links to video on how to do it here on the blog.) It will create an impenetrable fortress. As a matter of fact I did it in our old home’s bedroom every night and it was the only part of the structure that wasn’t annihilated in the Northridge earthquake.

For now I have this feeling something very strange is going on, almost as if time has shifted. I wonder if other precognitive people have noticed that the time in which information is imparted and is manifested has been compressed. Now this could just be me, but I’ve noticed this trend happening over the past few years. In my case it could be a personality shift toward the present or the medicines I have to take for my neurological problems. So if anyone else has noticed this please let me know. I thought perhaps the blog made the problem worse, that in this time of turmoil people might be meant to find their own way and not look to anyone else to warn or worry them about the next impending problem.

Something I have always wondered was why? Why do spirits/angels/inter-dimensional beings/spirit guides or whoever they are, tell me what is going to happen, show me in great detail and or in strange mysterious code, what is to be, sometimes as far in the future as 5 to 10 years? Often it is a world event or about someone else – things I have no control over. So what am I supposed to do with that information? And then it hit me… I’m not supposed to do anything with that information. I’m just one of many lightning rods that ground the energy here on earth. I’m a radio, a lightening rod, a receiver and not meant to change the future. This was a relief as you can imagine! There are thousands perhaps millions of us, gateways that glue the etheric, astral and physical worlds together. Actually, anyone who has ever had a psychic knowing has been that glue and has felt that oneness with the everything. I’m sure everyone reading this blog has had at least one of these inspirational experiences (or  scary, depending on the situation.)

Anyway, for now I have to get back to dealing with all the backwards things that Mars retrograde has created.

Best wishes and many blessings,

Denise

Mars Retrograde…

Earthquakes, Dreams & Synchronicities…

I read several posts about the earthquake vision/dream I had. One person said that they had experienced the loud thud after a dream on the outside of their home, another said they had dreams that seemed to refer to earthquakes and in retrospect it seemed to be Haiti. Also a reference to Nostradamus about a great machine that would cause earthquakes in unnatural patterns that they had just read about.

For the past couple of days the vertigo has come back. Every time I try to tune into what’s going on in Haiti I get it. I’ve been through a major earthquake before and know that it’s very much like vertigo, the ground constantly shakes and moves underneath you. Before the Northridge quake in 1994, I had a bought of vertigo, but the vertigo was quick and violent much like the quake ended up being. Also I knew there was going to be an earthquake in southern California leading up to it for several years. I had squirreled away enough sterno, canned goods and water to last a couple months and had bought earthquake insurance 6 weeks before the quake. I ended up getting my family out of the area just before the freeway was shut down and we gave the supplies to our neighbors who ended up being served by the Red Cross for a couple of months. They were without heat, water, gas or even a working bathroom for that period.

Back then I noticed certain patterns that proceeded the quake. Several of them were very strange and I think I should put them out there as a warning to anyone who is potentially in a quake zone:

1: Everyone had a terrible headache. I had a severe migraine that wouldn’t go away. Everyone around me had a terrible headache and when I went to buy Excederin at the drugstore I was told  there had been a run on aspirin that day, everyone seemed to be complaining of a headache. Even the clerk who sold it to me complained of the very same ailment.

2. My normally feisty cat was a lump of fear. His eyes were glossy, he was completely unresponsive. I put him in a bunch of different positions to see if he’d snap out of his strange state. He did not. Once I let him go he hid. He wouldn’t come out or respond (which he normally did) to his name.

3. People were driving very strangely. Everyone on the freeway (which turned out to be near the epicenter, and about 30-45 minutes before the quake) was weaving like they were wasted. I mean going over the white lines several lanes at a time. Even my husband was doing this. I begged him to pull over and let me drive. He wouldn’t. I asked if he had been drinking. He said “no,” which I already knew to be true. I asked why he was weaving like that, he couldn’t explain it and told me he didn’t know why he was driving that way. He was just compelled.

Earthquakes are very terrifying. They aren’t just one event, but a series of constant shakes, and you never know if the one you are experiencing is the beginning of something even bigger and more frightening or if the shaking is going to end and turn out to be nothing. The ground doesn’t stop moving. The earth feels like being on a rocky ship.

The day after the news came out about Haiti I was coughing and told my husband I smelled smoke. I looked outside expecting the sky to be engulfed in darkness, but it was clear. He heard me coughing and was concerned. When I told him I smelled smoke he informed me that he did not and had not. I realized it was a psychic thing and figured it was related to Haiti. I turned on the news and the coverage was all about fires raging down there. This is of course to be expected after an earthquake.

This morning, I woke up smelling a combination of death and fire aftermath. It was horrible. I also felt my left side pinned and felt a broken arm. I realized this person I was tuning into was stuck in the rubble and I worried that she would die before being rescued.

My spiritual guide/higher self told me that would be about a quarter of a million people who will pass over during this earthquake and if resources continue to go slowly, as many as half a million who will die both directly and indirectly due to the earthquake there.

I urge everyone to give whatever you can to the relief effort. Just thinking about the area gives me a terrible migraine and makes me dizzy. I wonder now if the severe vertigo I had a couple of months ago was related to these earthquakes. It was odd. I noticed that whenever I would tell people about the vertigo they all knew someone who was having a similar thing happen. I was sort of blown away by how many people were experiencing vertigo (for a period of about  2 months) at or around the same time that I was, and wondered if this was some sort of massive psychic shock to the collective, or if there was some weird virus going around. All the people happened to be women, which I also thought was interesting.

Please keep posting your insights and information.

Many blessings,

Denise

I continue trying to get clarification about the vision/dream. I’m going to run a chart of Haiti and continue asking for understanding about a possible unnatural cause of this horrible disaster.

Earthquakes, Dreams & Synchronicities…