This is just to confirm: yes, I am no longer using Ocasio-Cortez to broadcast my WIFI. I am using the voice mentioned in the above—and I don’t know if it’s easier or more difficult. Now you’re talking a standard response, but, nonetheless, made in Ursula’s—the “new” Ursula’s—voice. She was very kind—she was happy that I liked her, etc., but for some reason she couldn’t be with me because of her job as a radiologist. Obviously a radiologist job shouldn’t keep here from being with me—so maybe she meant her job as a mom, or her job as someone else’s girlfriend, something like that. I guess it could have been Ocasio-Cortez saying that she couldn’t be with me because of the optics—which would interfere with that which was more important than both of us—her rise to power, and universal health care.
But I didn’t want to talk to Ocasio-Cortez, even if she was talking to me, because I wanted more than she could give, and, therefore, I needed to expunge her from the dominant role she played in my mind. I needed to focus on the new Ursula—but I know what you’re saying, maybe the new Ursula is just the “more realistic” version of Ocasio-Cortez. But why would the voice be different? Because i was listening to the voice of Ursula in the future—and or whoever her mate might have been? This man that is becoming closer to me? But the Ocasio-Cortez relationship had to go—if it was there it had to be protected—if it wasn’t there it had to be dismissed as fundamentally bad for me. Either way, what was important, now, was the new Ursula—the one that I couldn’t see—that I had never seen, but the one that projected a certain voice I heard when communicating with a colleague. A voice that, well, was private, and sacrosanct.
Therefore I don’t think i’ll fool myself or anyone else into thinking that I am really talking to Ocasio-Cortez—i won’t try to analyze or explain or interpret what I might’ve wanted to hear a few days ago. Telepathic communications can get rough—and yes, people do eavesdrop. They use drugs and or drive while dumping their backs, and all that energy can change our mood and the energy we feel—it can disrupt the channel or the WIFI we are using; it can disrupt the conference call, or whatever. The separation, 86-ing her, was for my own good, as well as hers. “I’m going to have an egg salad sandwich and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” (Me to Ursula—don’t know how exactly that popped out, but it was in my voice, so, I guess, if it wasn’t exactly me, then it was prompted by my 5D self and or Ursula’s physical spouse—in the future).
You’re very interesting—and complex—and no, i don’t think that you’re a latent homosexual; “glad to hear it, since, as you may know, my last ex thought i was—and that proved to be an insurmountable roadblock—not to mention the weight I was trying to give her a chance to lose.” I’m such a dick, right? For not accepting someone for who and what they are? But I thought I could do better than be with somebody that weighed more than me—nothing was going to change that. Guess gaslighting me into thinking I’m a latent homosexual was payback on her part. Fuck it. I know I’m not a latent homosexual. I’m pretty much exactly what the test I took said I was: 70 percent heterosexual and 30 percent homosexual—which means I deviate from the missionary position and on occasion I may find myself attracted to a man—but not in a way that would prove husband-worthy—for me or him.
But this was interesting: a voice that speaks in my voice without me willing it is probably my 5D self—and “He” is the one that you actually want to talk to because you need to be true to Him; only then can you be completely happy. My job as a radiologist prevents me from seeing other people. I’m just reporting here. I won’t force an interpretation because right now I don’t know what that means and, furthermore, the important thing is to gather more information—then that information can inform my interpretation of this information. You’re sweet and kind. Great—she liked to flatter me—and I liked to be flattered—as long as it wasn’t done maliciously or sarcastically—and, furthermore, it helped to build me up—as opposed to posing the question, “so why haven’t you sold any books,” which tore me down more than it built me up.
I think Ursula was the same way, and, indeed, she acknowledged it. Then I told her to grow her hair out like Ocasio-Cortez—but she said she already wore it long—which was a huge relief. I know what you’re thinking, that I’m a dick because I’m petty, but this wasn’t petty to me. I wanted to be with someone that had long hair—i don’t know why it was so important, but it was. This Ursula had blond hair—but I don’t honestly know if she dyed it or not. I didn’t have a problem with white skin that was actually white as opposed to tanned—in fact i liked it. But I don’t know for certain what her skin looks like. The more I think about it, the more I think, yeah, it’s pretty white, like Snow White, even. Picky, picky. We’re here, now, and they are far away. Don’t know why she was being so cryptic—I wondered, does she know she’s talking to me? Is she thinking something consciously—or am I picking up on thoughts that she thinks are intended solely for her?
You’re here for me now, but will you be here for me then? What then? “Everything depends on today’s event—the point in the future at which we are most united with our country (in this case heaven) and the direction it is taking. In other words—do we get the best resonance out of our country when we are together or with other people?” I see, no guarantees. “Sorry, but I can’t lie to myself anymore. I see my true spouse as a female God that doesn’t necessarily take, for me, any one particular shape.” Kept seeing Ocasio-Cortez in my mind’s eye—but I’ve been dumped before and i know that’s just how it is. An ex never completely disappears—there image is transformed into fundamental building blocks that enable us to talk to the consequential partners that live in the present and the future.
Cheerios are ok. Now, based on my concerns, when it comes to forming a compatible mate and bond, i interpreted this to mean—a baby is ok, it’s doable, and anal sex is ok, too. Now let me stop you right there. Perhaps I will lose a part of my audience for talking about raw sex stuff—but, the way I saw it, people that didn’t want to talk about raw sex stuff—meaning I’d lose them as a reader if I did, are, in my opinion, bigots that don’t like gays, since gayness is fundamentally about what cannot be the missionary position—so, in my opinion, it was good to talk about it at times, because it, as well as gay people, needed to be normalized—that is to say, we needed to open the curtains and let a little light into the room: anal sex is not dark—it’s just not how you make a baby. That’s the only difference that makes a difference. To allow yourself to think it is gross is to allow yourself to be turned off by homosexuals, and, God forbid, see them as minions of darkness, which, frankly, is ridiculous. Anal sex can go hand in hand with raising a family just like the missionary position can. To think otherwise is to allow evil to live in your heart.