The Earthly Adventures of Commander Stormm by John Stormm (romance book recommendations .TXT) 📖

at all.  I’ve had visions of my latter years on Earth for over 40 years at this point, and I already understood the kind of price it was going to demand of me, and I was fully prepared to face and live that reality, if I had to.  I’ve always known that I have a role in this world.  Still, I was warming up tho these people a lot, and I felt stupid and did not want to let them down.  I wanted to stay with them.  I felt “right” here.  So my last question before I had to leave through that darkened doorway was:

 

“Is there anything I need to do to prepare for this new part of the mission?  Should I be focusing on anything in particular?” I asked.

 

The two men that laughed at my joke before, and even a couple of the women chuckled at that question, and said,  “Don’t worry yourself about that at all.  ALL you have to do, is what comes natural for you.”  And I walked back to the door, wondering it was something to do with my ninja skills or such, because if I had a middle name: It would be “Vindictive”, and that really didn’t seem to jive with the general tenor of our conversations, and they had remarked that I was most “militant” among all of them.  Even for a Procyon.  I had no idea of what that meant, and I couldn’t ask because it was as if the power went off and the room became as black as pitch!

 

Meanwhile, a team of physicians and specialists at Mountain View Hospital’s Coma Ward, the monitors are showing that my blood glucose was over 1800, I lost just over 100 pounds of body weight in my ten day coma, and my organs were all shutting down to nothing at all.  My blood was far too poisonous to do ANY kind of good trying to revive me.  It was the middle of the night shift, and a nurse was sent up to unhook me from the monitors and wheel my cadaver down to the morgue.  It was over.

 

I could see, or hear NOTHING but blackness.  I could not make out my own hand before my face.  Why would I be blocked off from everybody and everything?  I thought, I must be dead or something.  It was then there was ONLY one sound in that black place:  The sound of delighted laughter!  I laughed because I knew I wasn’t by any means “forsaken”, and they were still watching me, and this was just another part of my journey, and my eyes opened in a darkened hospital room, where a male nurse was sorting out the leads he had just pulled from my body to take me downstairs.

 

 

“Could I have some water?” I croaked weakly.  Which startled him and got him dashing out into the hallway and people coming in to see.  My chart, posted on the wall at the end of my bed had a long list of the things I was suffering from.  A new entry on it said I was also suffering Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia now.  WOW!  I didn’t have cancer when I came here, but I got it in spades NOW!  Apparently, the nurse was about 10-20 minutes in coming for my body.  There was no rush.  It was not like I would be going anywhere but for a dirt nap.  The leads got hooked back up, and the doctors watched the readings as my liver and kidneys started coming back online for them.  First at 15%, 32%, 55%, 77% and almost a full 100% in the next 24 hours!  I’m told that never happens.  I was SO wasted away that I didn’t even have enough muscle left on my bones to roll over in bed.  It took me an exhausting 35 minutes just to get halfway there.  Doctor Doddie came in to advise me of the situation I was in.

 

“I know, doc,”  I croaked.  “It’s not my first time at Death’s Door.”

 

“NO!” she said.  “You were NOT at Death’s Door.  You were on the other side, and somebody THERE, wants you HERE, very badly!”

 

“I know that too,”  I said.  “I just hope I don’t disappoint them.”  She shook her dread-locked hair and smiled a funny smile at me.

 

Within a day, they wheeled me up to a brand new room in the Rehabilitation Center, and she had another talk with me about it.

 

“I heard that you fell, trying to go to the bathroom by yourself,” she said sternly.  “And there’s some things I have to tell you.  The lady across the hall from you came in with a blood glucose of about 850, and she was in a coma for three days.  That woman is NEVER going to be the same again from this, so I don’t want you getting your hopes too high.  YOU came in with TWICE her glucose levels and were in a coma for TEN days.  Your white cell count was a massive 150,000, and then you even died on us for a bit.  So, when we get you in for therapy, don’t expect too much too soon.  Most of these people will be here and training for the next six months.”

 

 

As it happened, the woman she had mentioned died a day or so later.  About six weeks after that, with a little bit of body weight put back on, I walked out of Mountain View Rehab with a cane, that I haven’t used for the past two years now.  I tried the Chemo Therapy for my cancer.  I had the BEST oncologist in the Western USA, and she gave me an 80% probability the “Triple Threat Chemo Treatment” would put me to rights.  To keep this story from becoming tedious, she damned nearly murdered me in the Cancer Ward with total disregard, and I fired every one of them and I came home, researched my situation (I’ve earned doctorates before) and started treating myself, and I got MUCH better than ANYBODY expected.  I would have liked an overnight miracle of rejuvenation, but it didn’t happen that way.

 

I took CBD oil for my epilepsy.  I learned about the proper “terpines” that my conditions required out of the medical marijuana I was smoking.  I had two morphine prescriptions when I left the hospital.  I don’t like morphine, so I didn’t get them filled.  I probably SHOULD have though.  I could have sold them and used the money for better food and meds.  I had to do something about the pain of my cancer and all though, and I found that weed with fair percentages of “myrcine” and “carophylene” have wonderful anti-inflammatory effects and would keep me comfortable in my own skin for hours after the buzz wore off.  I taught myself to “smoke SMART”.  I could function with this.  Simple baking soda, added to my drinking water every day, would make my blood alkaline, and while I was still getting monthly blood tests, they were showing that my White Cell count went down THOUSANDS of points in a few months, as opposed to the hellishly expensive Chemo and cancer medicines.  Whatever I could not get in proper foods, I made up for in healthy supplements, and when I moved to downtown Las Vegas, I no longer needed “assisted living” or even a nursing home anymore!

 

As I got back to all of my friends online, I noticed again, the channeled videos that I always turned my nose up at before.  Some, I listened to, were just SO much “bliss idiot talk” and not much real substance to the messages.  But eventually, I found some even with pictures of people I’ve met in various space jumpsuits, and the messages were actually relevant to what I was immediately going through, or they were something that I had already been briefed in, by them.  I need to explain my abhorrence of “channeling” here.  Which, I'll do just after I demonstrate yet another level of "connectedness" to this.  I could only  shake my head.

 

Of the crazy synchronicity that followed:  One of the shockers, was about an interesting, hour-glass shaped birthmark, inside of a tan rectangle, on my right thigh.  At some point, I got to share some emails with Linda Moulton-Howe about some of my own involvement in the Black programs, and she led me to a great research tool in her Earthfiles website.

 

I was browsing my laptop in my trunks, and reading about some people's encounters with the Nordic aliens, and a symbol kept coming up.  The hourglass symbol.  It means something about "the merging of worlds".  In Runic script, it means "Break-Through".  And judt to the right of my laptop, I am looking at that same familiar symbol on my right thigh!  WAIT!  There's MORE!  

 

 

Embedded in this Screenshot of Linda's website, is a snapshot of my birthmark.  But, as I said:  There's MORE!  Someone pointed out they saw my birthmark on an ancient petroglyph, on a rockwall in a canyon, about a 90 mile drive south of me, near Laughlin, Nevada!  It stands just to the left of a giant, longhaired "storm kachina"!  I am learning that I am not only learning about THEM... but I am learning unbelieveable things about ME!   I'm in this DEEP!   I'll share that here.

 

 

 

 

From around my mid teens, as a practicing witch, I ended up with what I thought,  was a fae mentor to train me to be a better witch.  But it was actually a demon, named Shabriri and I became quite “possessed” and this took me some serious searching to get this thing out of me.  Suffice it to say:  I found out then that Jesus was no joke.  That was a LARGE portion of “crow” for a proud witch like me to admit to.  But that monster got removed forcibly from my soul, in Jesus’ name   And I was at peace within myself for the first time in many years.  I was about 21 at the time.  It would be the best part of a year after that experience, when I would be finding this Jesus for myself, and I adjusted my “reality” to accept that, and that was among the wisest things I had done.  Getting “churchy” wasn’t much of a help, but I learned to follow his teachings, which gave me options in situations that I never had before.  I used less spells, and more prayers and raised myself a family, and kept clear of deals with devils even more so than I had with MKULTRA, and I had benefited greatly for it.  I understood what it was like to have someone else riding high in the saddle of my own soul, and I would NEVER give anyone that opportunity ever again.  So, maybe you can understand my aversion to channeling;  Someone allows another spirit or telepath to talk through their own mouth.  I will never go that way.  They seem fine enough to me, and I see nothing wrong in their messages, and I’m even grateful for some of those messages.  But I will ALWAYS captain my own ship!

 

My key problems with telepathy, are BECAUSE I am a first generation MKULTRA soldier/agent and it was NEVER a good idea for us to start responding to the “voices in our heads”.  BAD beyond belief in our cases!  But, that IS the nature of telepathy, and the messages coming through were they best advice I ever gotten, and made me even less likely to hurt someone that sorely deserved it… Up to a point!  But, I loved how things turned out when I accepted their advice.  They NEVER commanded me ANYTHING.  They’d ask, or make a suggestions that I was always free to ignore, and sometimes I had, and didn’t do as well.  I also could not discern too well, if I was actually creating these conversations in my own head, so sometimes, I was going to need a face-to-face meeting with someone, or some kind