This is music, actually…every breath of God is a song
https://cathyfox.wordpress.com/2020/11/27/illuminati-players-and-the-battlefield-earthly-realm/
How deep does the rabbit hole go?
That is a good question. One you think you are prepared for. There is a part of me that has always wanted to tell, to share, to find words to reveal what is down that hole.
Some things can not be put into words. Some should never see the Light.
I want to take you back to the last moments of the ritual I spoke of. The boy and the girl in the pentagram. Their hands, palms flat and touching My friends…search…search…search
How many images of children’s hands can you find?
Hands in paint?
Hands in cement?
Hands on walls?
What colors?
Why are there so many hands?
Seriously…show me the hands… Benghazi Children’s Hospitals, CPS Art Programs, Schools, Keep going…how many can we find? What is unique about hands? Or finger tips? Unique Identifiers? But why?
https://cathyfox.wordpress.com/2020/03/17/silence-breaks-forth-into-song/
https://cathyfox.wordpress.com/2021/03/07/royal-pedo-links/
Trust is not a word we are taught
It is the most difficult thing to give
It is harder to receive
Yet there comes a moment we must decide
Will we choose to trust? –
I grew up in a world of utter darkness
Everything was silenced
Silenced voice
Silenced heart
Silenced emotions
Silenced actions
All I was allowed was to be present in the darkness –
Let’s start with emotions
Others could not see my pain
I watched as others were hurt or worse
And I was deeply grieved in what I saw and heard
I did not allow myself to be sad
I was left with glad or mad
What I observed I certainly could not be glad about
Mad was all I embraced
Intense anger and rage at the pain I saw being caused to others
Over 1000 gross injustices no one could fathom a month
No where to run
No way to hide
No self medicating
Not allowed to speak, or cry out, or intervene
Silence made me angry
Yet, it was the only mercy
I could express to lesson the pain of those suffering
There came a point when I decided I would not be ruled by silence
I would not fear it
I would not abide by it
I would not be held captive by it
I could not trust it
In order to be rid of silence I must do what others dared not
I must let my voice be heard
I must show my emotions
I must reveal my heart
I must be known by my actions
But the more I fought against the silence
The more I realized the tethers it held in others
They could not trust me in the silence
They also could not trust me outside of it
They could not see that all I did was not for me
They could not see I saw their hurt
They could not trust I would not hurt them
Nor could I trust they wòuld not hurt me