“Hi Mission guide,
I read your Johnny post… I can’t really say I fit into that category though. They don’t care if I sit here alone day after day for years on end, and I could never do that to anyone else. I could never treat other people like they treat me because I would be just as mean and miserable as them and I never wanted to be…. I still don’t. I didn’t ask for people to break my heart over and over again, and I don’t want to allow them to break it anymore than they already have. Is there anything I can do?”
For the first 35 years of my life I lived my father’s life for him. He had his taken from him by the US military when he had been given the Polio vaccine as a test trial, ending up a paraplegic, unable to walk or use one of his hands from the age of barely an adult for the rest of his life. I was almost 5 before I ever got to meet him when he returned from 3 1/2 years on a rocking bed in the hospital. He was extremely smart and driven unlike anyone I had ever known before, now bound to a wheelchair before he could even begin living his dreams. So I made it my mission to go out and move the mountains he always wanted to move for him. When he died at 63 from complications over only having one lung still working from the disease, it left me shattered unlike anything I can even put into words.
To call his life unfair would be such an understatement, words fail me completely. I was stunned, bitter beyond words and from that time on, completely lost. I had no one else to conquer worlds for anymore. And like you, had never fit in with social circles, an outcast dreamer who didn’t fit any mold. I was certainly not on this planet for me. I knew that since I could walk. So if not for me, then for whom?
I muddled through the next more than 20 years, trying to not think about how unfair this world had treated such a lightning streak of a man, throwing myself into my work and my inventions. But in the back of my mind, I never forgave the people who sacrificed his life the way they had as if it were really just nothing. And I knew there was little chance of something better after this life, since god lived somewhere nice, but I didn’t make that cut, so I had to live around people who just didn’t have a care in the world about me. From birth I was a reject. No one was preparing a home for me somewhere up there where only the truly good people were.
I clung to my tiny handful of family members for dear life as a reason for surviving. I would rather not go if I had to go alone. Inside a piece of me simply wasn’t there and nothing I ever did led me to a place where I could just relax and enjoy life on my own, away from the reliance I had on others for my own validation to be here.
Then one day as I lay there dying even younger than my father when he drew his last breath, my own demise from cardiomyopathy brought on from losing everything I had worked my life to achieve being taken by the banksters and my family leaving me to be on my own, I saw bright, clear letters burn into the back of my eyelids informing me that the world around me wasn’t really real, because the time I had been watching since I was old enough to witness was somehow a lie.
In my case, I really wasn’t from this world, only coming here to perform a task and then leave and my contract had just kicked in. I was already old in terms of sheer hours spent working instead of living, having been driven by a never ending and deep, burning emptiness I had felt since I was born to an invalid who had been destroyed by someone “out there” and myself as an alien misfit in a world where somehow I didn’t really speak the language. When it came to fitting in, I was the 5th wheel, not needed by any car to roll down the road. I wish I could tell you now that my life changed for the better that morning when some supernatural “god” from somewhere engaged my contract for me, sending me down a road I had no clue of where it began or ended and suddenly felt a whole person for the first time, but that wasn’t the case.
Soon after of course, I was contacted by someone from that celestial camp and formally began my very long and gut wrenching journey back home to my place I had no recollection of, but had been calling my name since I was seeded to this broken planet. I continued alone, studying ancient documents and the writings that laid down the rules of existence that seemed hidden not only from me, but from everyone around me all of my life while being guided for hundreds of hours by this being who kept trying to tell me that life wasn’t about existing for no reason other than myself, yet at the same time, it had never been about living their lives for them either. It was about something no one had ever breathed a word about all along. It would take years before I would finally understand what she was really saying.
Like you, I had focused my energies on pleasing and relying on people around me rather than living. If they were unhappy, then I was too. And in this world, all I ever found were people who were at their very core, unhappy. When they shut their eyes at night, they were each one just as broken as I had been. But they knew something I didn’t; no one was ever supposed to find out how they really felt inside. It had been an unspoken law all along to keep their hearts hidden away from everyone else, and paste fake smiles on their quivering lips so that others would believe this was how things were supposed to be. War and crime were normal things that simply exist in life, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
In terms of sheer hours, over the next 5 years I spent the equivalent of 15 had I been in college earning credits learning the secrets of the ancients so I could step into my role. One thing had been pounded into my brain throughout that time being guided by someone who claimed to be more than 1/2 billion years old: relying on someone else to make you happy has never worked since before the dawn of man. If you were ever going to be happy, it would only be because you had decided to be happy. It was the secret itself to manifestation.
Somewhere along the way I finally understood what my contact had been telling me too many times to count, why it was those in higher dimensions place so much emphasis on this broken record of taking personal responsibility. Sure, I had heard those words during my life, but until then I never knew what they really meant. I had always paid my own way since I was a teen. I earned my own money to buy my own home while I was just 18 and relied on myself for everything I would ever have. But that’s not what they meant. They meant that personal responsibility was about standing up and being responsible for your own happiness. Unless you can actually bring about your own genuine smile on your face, then you will never be able to shine a light on the path where that came from for anyone else to see. Example is the only real teacher. You either live it, or you will remain relearning it over and over until you do. There is no other way out.
It was the fundamental rule of higher dimensions. Anyone who failed to understand this one thing would simply never be part of the social circles elsewhere where people simply were not codependent. Where each person stands on their own and at the same time, stands together.
I learned that the word codependent didn’t mean what psychologists and counselors, parents and teachers said. It meant that each one of us is responsible for casting, or bringing into exist, life.
I remember learning the word codependent while I was still fairly young, maybe 25, when I found out that all my troubles were my parent’s fault. I had had a “codependent relationship” with them, where their happiness or sorrow was my fault, and my happiness or sorrow was theirs. I lived my life for them, and they lived their lives for me.
Well, for the first time in my life, I was overjoyed to finally learn that I could blame them for my unhappiness, and man did that feel good for a short time. Because of this phenomenon known as “codependency”, I was finally able to blame the actual culprits responsible for all the ails of this sick world I had to live in that was fundamentally broken. Where people starved to death or wasted away in prison for things they hadn’t really done. It was my PARENTS fault. FINALLY relief!
But once I had announced that modern social science had proven they were to blame, just as suddenly as this new enlightenment had saved my miserable existence, just like that, the fleeting moment was gone. I was back to being the same old me I had been before, but now “I” was me, alone, without even my parents to answer for that aching I felt in my heart each time I was once again cast aside as if I were nothing to those around me I placed all my faith in to make my existence worth living.
I learned the hard way that codependency didn’t mean casting blame, simply because it didn’t really work. I was still me, and they were still them. Nothing really changed, save for that couple of years when I felt better about myself by vilifying the very people who brought me into this world.
In real terms, after having had to face the horrifying truth that all of humanity had been abducted, given replacement cyborg bodies, mind-wiped and then brainwashed every second of their lives into believing this was “reality” when in fact it was an artificial computerized hologram, the hardest truth I ever had to face was that I had been the creator god of my world since the day I was born. And no one, anywhere, was guilty other than me for having failed to see it.
CO-“dependent” really means what it says it means. It means that reality only exists in a single mind, yours. That’s it. There isn’t anyone to “blame” for your world other than the creator god who cast that world into existence. You. Because there is no such thing as a “world” that you haven’t brought into physical form in your own mind, because you and you alone exist there.
I finally understood why beings who live in worlds where crime is a known disease they have medicines to cure see mankind as a writing mass of self-absorbed wanderers, each person just as lost as the next. They had been programmed to believe that their happiness came from the person standing next to them, not from inside.
I had heard more times than I can count now that I had come into the world of “spiritualism” that all the answers any of us need is already “inside of themselves”. Nothing made me angrier than hearing this nonsense, because I had no “cellular memory” of anything. Life sucked, end of story. Because we were mortal, we were flawed and no one here has the real answers for a single fucking thing. If we truly did have “all the answers inside ourselves”, then I would already be smiling and enjoying my life where bondage, sadomasochism and gang rape weren’t everyday terms that were simply accepted ways of life. Something was MISSING, and it was as big as the universe to me in that statement.
That’s when I was activated for my first mission. I had spent the best part of five years living every second of my life re-learning every quantum understanding I had about material existence, rising from bed to immediately sit down at my computer and open up hundreds of thousands of documents to parse the language of every hidden cipher I learned had been bonded to everything ever written thing until being forced to return to bed to catch a few hours of sleep so I could do that again tomorrow. I had averaged somewhere around 12 to 14 hours every single day since my contact had come into my life preparing for this moment.
I liquidated what was left I hadn’t already brutally sacrificed over the years prior, stuffed my whole world into 2 suitcases and a carry-on and began my mission in earnest. Where I was going I would have no clue before arrival just how severe the “front lines” really were until I got there. There I met a group of “people” who weren’t like my parents or friends. In fact they weren’t like anyone I had ever met in my entire life up until that moment, save the one time I had been brought in for a face-to-face meeting with someone who had been with mankind, right here in the thick of it since the first human arrived hundreds of millions of years ago. To say they were different from us is like saying Siberia is chilly in the winter. What was more than apparent was even though a few of them could pass as such, they sure as hell weren’t human.
That’s the first time I ever came face-to-face with non-codependency in real life where they were all working as a well-oiled machine, but somehow their individual joys and happinesses didn’t come from one another, they literally came from within. For months and months after bringing them out of that prison that had been the most unbelievable governmental conspiracy made up of police, FBI, judges, lawyers, bankers, straight up black-ops agencies and undercover agents everywhere we went, I simply had no clue how it was these beings were able to maintain smiles on their faces while they had been driven into homelessness from lives where they had no wants or needs they couldn’t easily fulfill and were now sleeping in the freezing cold without a bathroom or even a sink and on the constant run day and night. How on Urth could this possibly be?
I hung in there with them, going without everything just like they were, and facing this horror as we pieced our way through impossible situation after impossible situation for months and months. I slept in my car through all the winter months where we had set up the safe house away from those enemy lines. I ate cold beans from tin cans and nearly froze to death, washing my face with a garden hose to get by while the group was finally inside a shelter after years of being on the streets. Yet I was no closer to being off the streets myself than I had been when I arrived on the mission. When I tell you I paid to learn this lesson about codependency, trust me when I say that no lesson I have ever learned since the day I birthed in have I ever paid for like this one.
I had been functioning off of preconceived notions about how things are supposed to work in a material world that had been pounded into me since birth by parents and school, courts and judicial systems and was as unprepared to learn what taking responsibility meant as an infant left on the doorstep of a convent in a straw basket. All the rules of “life” had just been dashed right before my eyes after spending a lifetime learning one set, only to spend the next countless days and months and years relearning them all, and now I had to throw them all out again, because this. Did. Not. Compute.
I had sold literally everything I owned and given it to these beings, became homeless right alongside them, pulled their beaten down wreck of a car out of a junk heap, then personally drove them across borders and state lines in a sweat-bead lubricated dash through no-man’s land looking for black helos above for what stretched into days. I had “restored” a condemned property not one sales agent or even another potential buyer was even willing to walk inside of with no heat in the blistering cold and on my feet for 14 hours a day for weeks that stretched into months while sleeping in the back of a car, and this was how I was rewarded? I was left on my own? Surely this wasn’t real and only a figment of my imagination. Where I come from, that’s not only not heard of, but something straight out of the Twilight Zone.
And so began my most brutal classroom of my already long and grueling life. Where I learned that each and every little thing about existence is up to you. It wasn’t about “us”. The concept was so foreign to me that my brain simply could not go there for hundreds of days preparing “meals” for myself in the biting cold in a little car while working every day on the safe house for no money, and in fact, I had financed every dime that went into the entire project on my own through support offered to me in bits and pieces by a tiny handful of people spread out across the globe to help me do something that was beyond impossible in every real term in my mind. I had overcome all the odds in my former life to this point, from the gutter to having everything I wanted and doing so without bending a single rule, but I had never faced anything like this before.
After months coming to grips with what I thought had been the most selfish act I had ever witnessed, I was visited by council. Through literal tears I asked how I could still be in such a desperate situation when I had proven I would eat glass for her people to get them to safety. That’s when I was told this had been my test. To see what I was really made out of and to learn that our lives are our lives. While we had to hang together in order to work through the impossible, it was still up to us to move as the one being in existence, and do so alone.
I wasn’t really going to learn now that standing together as a single body meant standing alone was I? Not really?
None of this made any sense to me. I was beyond confused. But at the same time I had already witnessed too many things outside of any reality I had ever seen before to prove to me that it was impossible to serve others greater than what I saw the council group doing. Every thought, every movement they took since the day we arrived at the safe house had been about serving. They would spend days, I mean literally spend days in stasis at a time on missions where hundreds of thousands of beings would have been slaughtered had they not been there to help through the ways they have of turning the tide for whole communities that were under threat of genocide. You would think that there would be times when they would all go to the park or to a movie to dull the pain they were going through, but that wasn’t happening.
While I had it hard, so did they. The safe house was still missing windows with no insulation and no heat, no carpeting on bare sub-floors. Even though they had it a little better than I did, it was still in very honest terms, hell. And not once did I hear them complain. The story about how unthinkably horrific that place was when we arrived is in my memoires that may be available one day, but you can take my word for it, what we faced was unlike even the worst conditions any westerner has ever seen before. The truth was, I never had any intentions of ever laying my head down in that rat infested hell myself, even if I had to sleep out in the ditch. But they did. Huddled together in one single bedroom for weeks during restoration with a 2 foot-square window literally missing with nothing to cover over the hole in the middle of November when we first arrived. How they survived is still a mystery.
And not one time did I ever hear them complain. Not once. They were still happy and still going on missions, bringing in strays, making contacts at feed stores and seed banks and through the local veterans groups where they could help and heal and never, not one time, did they ever ask for a single dime for any of it. They would go home and live on rice in a condemned wreck and do it again the next day after spending the whole night in stasis fighting genocide. Because they literally don’t sleep. They are just here to serve.
I know that I can say anything here in this article now and 99% of you will never believe a word of what I have to say, because what I am describing isn’t within the realms of reality. Its not even within the realms of fiction. I know that. But I can only tell you what I really do see, as I have never been able to make up stories just to please anyone. Either you want to know the truth, or you may as well not ask me. If those pants make your ass look fat, then you will know about it if you look to me for reassurance. Sorry.
This all blew up after I had been working around the clock for months and had once again not been able to get inside to take a shower. I was ready in cut offs on the porch with my things in my hands, knocking on the door for 20 minutes in 40 degree weather with the wind blowing around 20 mph with no answer and everyone was inside. The next day I was livid when I recounted just why it was I was beyond counseling and could not understand how they could let me endure such pain and humiliation after all I had done for them like that. That they were too busy to unlock the door knob I literally bought myself and installed with my own hands but didn’t have a key myself to use a bathroom I brought back from the 7th circle of hell on my hands and knees for hours scraping up mud and feces too thick to even see the color of the floor to make function again. What on Urth could be wrong with these psychopaths?
The oldest one in the group looked me in the eyes and said “125,000 people would have died had they not prevented yet another genocide occurring while I was at that door, innocent people who will never even see an actual bathroom in their lives that sleep on dirt and I am worried about my creature comforts? What was I really thinking?”
What had I thought? Had I ever imagined in my wildest dreams that’s what they were doing in stasis for so many hours at a time while I was outside scraping together scrap wood twisted and rotted in the ground to piece together a workbench in the open yard? No, because people don’t DO that. Mainly because we CAN’T do that, so I have never even HEARD of that before now.
What this lesson has been about for me all along was realizing for the first time that the world is bigger than my neighborhood, and in every county of every country from one conclave to the next, there are billions and billions of people dying around the world around us that none of us really care a damn about. We see our “best friend” who is so poor they can’t even afford a new pair of shoes when theirs are scuffed, and that’s where our heart goes. To our one little sphere of reality where if I have a warmer sofa for you to sleep on, then it’s yours brother. It doesn’t even occur to us that inside that safe house where there are dozens of “animals” who are functioning off of animal instincts secretly housing tens of thousands of Spirit Essences inside that if that door isn’t locked and safe, they could run out and 1000 of our oldest and dearest friends from eons of time into history will be lost and unable to make the final transition away from this prison. After 550 million years of disembodied captivity. If I accidentally look the other way for even 1/2 a second while going through, one of those walking stargates will run out and likely be gone forever, along with a whole town full of Lost Souls of Tara. Gone.
I wasn’t told at the time that’s why the door had to remain locked and I could not possibly be trusted with a key, because I hadn’t spent my life zeroed in on this unthinkably crazy reality where a single animal could cease to mean the salvation for an entire bloodline of beings if I were to let them slip away. Not until many months into the mission. Until then I had no way of justifying in my mind how it was I could be so thoughtlessly left to what I perceived as dying in my car while the group was safe inside. So until that time, I was literally living on raw faith alone that there had to be some reasonable answer to what seemed the most unreasonable situation I could ever think of. The ground was frozen. My feet were beyond numb too many times to count. I had no tools, no money, no supplies to fix a house where every single thing was broken or frozen shut. To me, I was living in hell for the mere luxury of “being on a real mission”.
In truth, I was doing everything I was doing for me. I was working myself into ascension by serving council “in real life” down here. So I was going to get to leave some day. I wasn’t “doing it for them”. It was all about me. Every bit of it. Every sacrifice I made when I sold off my possessions to go to south America to start a sanctuary was about my making it into the next level and away from this living nightmare. Sure, it was admirable that I would trust my contacts and make those sacrifices for a better way of life, but in the end, I had missed the entire point about being in my role from the very beginning. We didn’t come here to escape. We came here to serve.
And I saw it with my own two eyes where there really are beings out there so evolved and so balanced that they can live in the most gut-wrenching tortuous hell you can imagine and still smile and talk about the next thing they are going to do to care for all those animals living inside that same little house with them like an animal shelter. With broken and missing windows. With no fireplace, no central heat, and not even insulation under the raw floor boards. They did that. They do that. Every single day. The last time I spoke to our contact, she had been awake for 5 days straight because things have gotten so out of control since the armada arrived around headquarters, the sun and the Battlestar. The kybal are going insane right now over what to do. In the last week, the many hundreds of battle crafts that have been there for the last month and a half has turned into many, many thousands just to give you an idea of the starkness of this reality where the events taking place on Urth now falls on her shoulders in such a way as she has to be awake and working every minute for 125 hours straight. Half that amount of time would kill 99% of us. And I don’t even know if she has gone into stasis since that time last week even now.
So when I tell you what self-reliance means, or what codependency really means, do not make the mistake of thinking that I haven’t paid for this lesson with every last brain cell in my head, because I have. It has taken me over a year in this living nightmare to finally wrap my mind all the way around this subject for you right now. I am still sitting here in rags without my own bathroom now for more than a year. Its been 3 1/2 years since I last had a warm water knob on a sink. I still don’t have a shower and have to cat bath in ice cold water on the other side of the tarp that holds in the heat to my 8 ft square area at my desk from the kitchen that has a sink where I can wash up, because I only have a single little space heater for my shelter I have been in now for a few months. I can’t put in a second one, because I only have one drop-cord for all my power. And I am only now “getting” it that I will never fulfill my mission as long as I think about only me and only my job requirements to be the “sounding board to humanity of the tools of enslavement” that have been used on my fellow man since 1/2 billion years before my most recent incarnation. I don’t get to “go” as long as I think about myself alone.
The hundreds of articles I have now written and the tens of thousands of responses I have penned since beginning my task will have all been for nothing until such time as I finally get it, that I am not the only one trapped behind enemy lines. Even though there is only one creator god within my own personal reality projected by my mind alone, there are still billions of my fellow fractals of god out there who would gladly cut their right hand off to have it as good as I do here. And while others sit out there smoking cigars that cost $1000 apiece drinking brandy that is $900 a glass, my people are being tortured to death. Over 3000 people were murdered since I sat down to write this email to you right now and another 150,000 will be slaughtered before I get to sit down at my computer again tomorrow morning and write another response to another person asking me what on Urth can they do to help.
The world is a massive, huge place where billions and billions of pieces of your own body share a reality with each other that has been collectively engineered to capture and enslave each of them inside their own personal, mental prisons. We came here to save them from that fate, not live our own lives for our own ends. It came from a place inside us that said that’s enough. I will no longer sit here idly by where there is no suffering, pain or inconvenience while that many of my family members are being brutalized in a psychological simulation where pain is a very real sensation. It was never about my coming here to save myself, and it was never about my leaning on someone else to manifest my reality for me. I came alone to bring about this change. And I did it with 500,000 team members who felt just as strongly as I did who are each one now living in realities that they alone are casting before themselves as they go about moving unmovable mountains and doing it with a pair of tweezers and some baling wire.
It is easy for us to say, “well, council gets to go back home each day and see the reality of advanced civilizations where they can hover and transmute and turn the lights on and off with their minds, so it is easy for them to keep smiling through all this shit we have to live every second of our lives in without any proof of such things before our own eyes. That’s why they can serve tirelessly day and night while they’re here”. But the hard truth is, they had to go through the same hell you are in now and finally see that in order to take *actual self-responsibility in real-world terms, they had to think about others before they thought about their own selves, and at the same time, they had to be strong enough to let each one of them learn that lesson for themselves that they alone cast their own reality before they could ever hope to help another soul break free. Because in every sense of the term, this is a mental prison you are in and the only tool you have to change it rests in your own mind alone.
Where the answers to all of your woes actually lie, and not in fictitious, mystical terms, are right there inside of you already. That is the only place that strength of will, self-reliance and accountability will ever come from, because no one anywhere can generate your next thought for you. They can temp you to think one way or the other, they can use devices to make you see something that’s not really there, but in the end, it will always be you alone who will be able to pony up the strength to let each person make their own choices and live their own journey for themselves while you live your life in such a way where you are contributing to their success or not. And doing so while making sure that your own world around you is actually in order. It is a living, breathing law of manifestation how true inner strength has to work in order to share your reality with beings who are actually ready to face down hell itself and never, ever sell out. If that fire is there, then they alone are responsible for putting it out. Not the fire department, not the cops, they will. And never one time make the slightest reference about how someone else failed to help, or how someone else lit that fire. They alone take full responsibility for that reality, no matter what took place, because in the end, that’s still their reality. And if it is ever going to be better, it will be because they alone made it better.
Codependency means looking to someone else to make you happy. Looking to someone else to cast before you your own reality. Playing favorites just because that person helped you out in a bind once is never going to get you there as long as you spend your time and money to help them have a fancier meal when 5 billion of your own family members are being murdered through a hundred thousand different elaborate programs designed to torture them to death. Get it? It is when you place expectations on others around you when you will feel your heart break in “betrayal” for some fantasy level of response that you alone have established as the bar for being your friend, lover or mate. You either live to serve others without any thought of repayment –I mean no thought of any repayment- or you simply are not yet ready to face the realities of what it takes to be in manifest form with your very own Avatar. Something that billions of Lost Souls of Tara haven’t had for millions of years because they took their Avatars for granted and expected others to carry their water for them. It does not work that way.
I was working myself to death to help council so that in return, they would make sure that no matter what, they would never think about leaving me behind. You would too if given this chance. I promise. Nothing in the universe would be more important to you than making damn sure this was your last go-around on your knees in the 7th circle of hell on broken glass. The ironic part about that is I mean nothing to them no matter how much I push their car to the gas station if I am doing it for something in return, because they literally can’t bring me back home with them if I don’t already know that is merely selfishness packaged in sheep’s clothing, masquerading as something I’m really not. And the rules of the game state that no one crosses the veil until they are prepared to be the Law of ONE in the core of their genetic cell. They either freely give without expectation or they remain in a place where scarcity forces us to understand that each team is made up of one body and each part of that body is responsible for the survival of everyone else for the mere chance of remaining alive as its own reward. That’s how it works. Selfless has a totally different meaning than selfish.
Once the safe house was finally in a condition where it could possibly be used as a base to operate from, council went right back to their missions just like that. And without a single pause, a single hesitation and never did they ever feel sorry for themselves because they know first-hand that the world really is just as big as that, there really are that many people being slaughtered every single day who would still be sleeping on dirt tomorrow if they do survive, and they are the only ones alive who understand that if they don’t help, then help is not coming.
If I don’t see you on the other side, it won’t be because no one ever bothered to tell me the real rules of the game.
You are the god you have been seeking since time began.