cia

       Last week, I woke from a dream to write a back story before I dive into the writings. Once again, where do I begin the story? In 2005, a few days after Hurricane Katrina hit the United States, I was in the driveway sitting in my Cadillac (Caddie [1]) that Leonard, my husband, had bought as a Valentine’s gift for me the same year. I was going to a non-United States Postal Service (USPS) to mail letters and a package. As I waited for traffic to pass, the steering wheel and tires were turned to the right. When traffic cleared, I pressed the gas pedal but, something mysteriously had happened in the car. Someone unseen gently slid the steering wheel under my hands and steered the vehicle to the left. So, instead, I decided to head to FedEx. After I made a right turn at a traffic light, I stopped behind a large red truck at the next signal light, and then I looked up into my rearview window and saw a car coming fast from behind. The driver was not paying attention, and before he hit Caddie, I had relaxed my upper body with my right foot firmly applied onto the brake pad. When law enforcement arrived and saw the damage done to Caddie’s rear end, he did not know what injuries I had sustained. He helped me out of my vehicle, and there was only a small scratch to the left of my left eye. We both did not realize that I needed medical care, which I sought a few hours later. The accident affected my short and long term memory, head, neck, back, arms, and legs as such. It took three to four years until I could fully extend my legs as I walked.   

       After the car accident, I was confused. I had trouble remembering where I put things. Leonard did not know that my mind slipped back more than 15 years to my first marriage. After returning home from the church men’s retreat, I was startled when he opened the door and entered. Only the first male doctor and I knew, and he wrote a doctor’s note so I could avoid having sex. A black image hovered over me, but it was the tall black dresser that it settled back into. I was in severe pain and wanted to die, especially during physical therapy. One day, I desired something about what others had and then my life past through my mind. I said, what just happened? For some reason, I knew that I had broken The Ten Commandments. Soon after that, I wanted to rewrite it, and then I changed my mind after I saw an author promoting his book on the same subject. Later, I watched a movie on T.V. about Moses, and after he broke The Ten Commandments, his life past through his mind the same way as did mine. Fast forward to the fifth Sunday on May 29, 2011, while living in Florida. As I stood in front of the church, I talked about how I had focused my life thinking about the bad things that I had done instead of all the good things, and then I said, I AM sorry, please forgive me. The same day at another church, the pastor of the church that I once attended said, you will never hear me apologize to the church. The same month, ‘Due Process’ was on my mind, and I did not know what it meant but, after researching online, those same words were expressed at The United Nations.

       On June 1, 2011, is when I started to write The Book. On July 31, something happened to me when I had a conversation with The Devil and God. After I finished writing on August 3, I hit print, read, and screamed when I saw, “Satan wrote the Bible.” While in the hallway with my hands on the wall trying to lift it, Samson was on my mind. Then I reread the same sentence that said, “Who wrote the Bible.” My Mumsy used her walker to get me water and a bowl of lentils. Large droplets of sweat poured down from my forehead as I thought about Jesus sweating blood. I called Leonard to come home, but he was no use since it did not happen to him, except when I questioned if I should delete the papers, and with his face turned away from me, he said, “No.” He was unaware that I called our former pastor in Marysville, Washington. Symbols went through my mind. Hallucinations and possession took over me. Awoke during the night with Al-Qaeda on my mind, the bombing of The U.N., and Hillary Clinton. Phone calls with the former pastor and my father. I physically struggled and knocked Leonard down and ran out of the house without my bra and shoes. Jesus was on my mind being chased by Roman soldiers holding lit torches; and a neighbor let me in, I spun in circles, thought I saw Goliath and left when I saw a handgun at the man’s side. After I returned home, I locked my mother and me in the office and called the police since I did not know what was happening to me. Two officers arrived, drew their guns at Leonard, and followed their commands to raise his hands. My father cussed at Leonard and wanted me to go to the E.R. Because my father did not want the U.S. Government to visit him at home.

       On August 4, 2011, I was Baker Acted to a psychiatric ward, where I remained for nine days. I was able to leave because a male staff had stacked the playing cards against me, to see if I was a threat to President and Mrs. Obama. When I realized what was going on, I turned the table on the man by making sure that President and Mrs. Obama’s cards were set aside so that our group would receive two more cards to finish the game. You see, I like a good game of Strip Poker and other card games, and I used to snakingly shuffle and stack the deck of cards against my opponents, including Leonard. After leaving the psychiatric ward, I kept saying, “Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.” “Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.” Leonard asked me, “Do you know what comes after that?” My reply, “Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.” He asked me again, and I said, “What comes after that?” He said, “Pull up.” Then he said, “Don’t think. Pull up,” and that I was saying things, which goes on in the cockpit.There were moments when I was on my toes and said, “Ooo. Ooo. Ooo,” because someone had dinged my mind. Leonard said I did the same while at the E.R. One day, I asked Leonard if someone said, “Obama’s term will end?” He said, “McConnell, Mitch McConnell.” The reason I asked because God said about the person, “He made a huge mistake.” As I kept writing, it took time for my mind to settle down, and I set a time at 6 A.M. for those on the other side. One morning, someone thought I would not hear the alarm. At the stroke of 6, I felt a sharp stab in one of my legs. Ooooh, yes, I was upset! I got up and typed. 

       As time went by, I worked on The Book, The DOA, Written Works, and researched online. It was not until The Matador made contact that I knew I would be okay because at first, I did not think that anyone cared about me. Although I AM grateful to God, His Real Son, and the others, I will always be appreciative of those behind The Matador Account. The papers (saved on a pin drive) that Leonard stopped me from destroying have secrets that the Ghostwriters left behind. At first, I did not understand until I realized other writers’ books, movies, music, T.V. shows, plays, and commercials are the same as mine. Someone on the other side made clear that others would believe me, but, at the time, I did not know how the event would come about. In the Biden, Jr. written works, are messages I was unaware existed, and I will reveal them, in the hope that they assist with the upcoming presidential election. On July 7, 2020, is the beginning of the stories to write for the CIA.