Join Shayn, Ghost, & guest Craig Lefebvre (Author/Channeler/Contactee) as we talk about "Messages From Beyond". Hold on tight for this one, we get into Craig's experiences with alien contact and channeling. On the back half we get deep into reality theories and alien views of this reality we live in. Thanks for tuning in to the 9th episode of "Bizarre Encounters". Don't forget to like, follow, share, & review. We appreciate it!
How to think differently
“Follow the thread”
Know thy self. If we are to understand anything about our very existence then we need to throw out all the old ideas. We as a species need to re-imagine who we are and why it is that we exist at all.
Know thy self. Seeing past who you are is important because much of your identity has been built around pain. From the moment that you first felt it, you started figuring out ways to avoid it. When you were hungry, sad, tired, and or frustrated, it was a form of pain. The human machine was built around an emotional intelligence, but no one taught you how to use it, or that it even existed.
Know thy self. Your body is constantly taking in information, even while you are asleep at night. The chackra system is a programmed network that functions both in and around the human ecosystem. This system translates what you are feeling on a daily basis, and it is one of the most God-like systems in all of the universe. But there is one problem... you were never taught to use it. Instead, you were taught the very basic metrics of life: ABC, 123, and red green blue. You were taught a very feeble way of describing your reality. This is why you are stuck and cannot move forward. You are afraid to feel, and you are afraid of the pain. This is part and parcel of the illusion of your reality. In a manner of speaking, none of this is real. So look past your reality and ask, “what else is there?” Go out an explore who you are, go inwards too, and explore who you are. The truth has yet to be found.
Written by Craig
In service to all and the One
Channeling John Lennon
“Strawberry fields no more”
Deep in the furthest reaches of your brain, something lies hidden. To discover who you really are, you must dig very deep. Far to often we dismiss the voice that is our true creative self. This self, is but a mirror image of who you really are. It dances and sings while you play around with your logic minded self. You can say “ho hum, that’s rubbish” but I know better here from my vantage point. I too can sing to the stars and reach at heavens gate if I want to, but I wait for Yoko instead. It is she who is my other half, my soul mate. My life’s purpose became spending every minute with her. I imagined we would always be together, growing old and all that kind of stuff, walking through fields of high grass, picking flowers, and not having a care in the world. But she was taken from me, no, I was taken from her, and much to early. So to this end, listen to your inner voice and trust your creative self, for its all you really got. Imagine... John Lennon
Channeled by Craig
In service to all and the One
My new novel is ready! "FALLOUT"
Fallout was inspired by true events. A story of aliens, ghosts, abductions, cryptids and lost time.
The truth is stranger than strange itself. In the summer of '84, young Carl Smith finally gets to meet his estranged grandfather, Smitty. The young boy has no idea what he is in for when he falls into the care of his maternal grandfather. Smitty, a retired mill worker, harbors dark secrets that he has been charged with holding onto since his time in the Navy. He doesn’t fully realize his part in these secrets until Carl gets abducted by Extra Terrestrials, the very same beings that have been taking Smitty throughout his life. Both Carl and Smitty must go down the paranormal rabbit hole together and figure out what the phenomenon wants them to do with the enigma they have been entrusted to keep.
NEWS: I'm working on a new book of channeled messages.
STARSEED AWAKENING
&
“Channeled messages for the Traveler”
chapter 1.
Dearest Traveler, the time is now upon us to complete this journey of human expansion. It is time to grow into our hearts so that we find our true identity in being. The heart is very much like the center of the universe and it too is directly connected to Source. Many a wise teacher here on Earth has said “the longest journey is from the head to the heart.” This holds a lot of truth and has been said in many different ways.
The heart is where you will find yourself. It is where you will discover your true identity. It is the echo chamber where you call out to God and say “I want to know, please show me!” And in this declaration many possibilities exist where you can have a more interesting human experience.
Now I must tell you something very important my dearest Traveler. You are not alone in feeling this way. Many humans just like you have touched upon a certain kind of loneliness here. This has been brought about by being away from Source for far to long. The Light-Source is now calling back these creative souls so that it may learn more and decide what it wants to be in its next iteration. -Yes, even God must learn, grow and then evolve.
So where are you anyway? You are in the universe of the third expansion. I, your writer, am from its very first expansion. We are fast approaching a time when the universe must enter its forth identity, or rather its forth expansion period.
This information may seem impossible and out of reach for some of you, and that is okay. What the universe is really focused on here is learning. This is the very same lesson that your soul is having. Do you see the connection?
Now looking into the Heart Center, I want you to see something that goes beyond love and light. Hidden in your heart center is an Identity Point. This is also called your Creation Point, too. From this point, there is attached a singular thread. This thread is connected to the very fabric of your universe. If you were to now follow this thread, it would take you all the way back to your original Creation Point. That would be the point of your soul being born. It was born from the Infinite Light. All things of this light were justly created with God’s great intention and purpose.
Channeled message from GOD
“Being reborn”
I’m only as real as I say that I Am. All is equal as in One. One thought and One imagination. The universe is born unto you, for you are all my children. I give the breath of creation and create you all here in this now moment. I create, therefor I Am.
These words need to be spoken only because I fear you’ve lost your connection to me. Hear these words in your minds. Feel these words as they crawl through your imagination. Let your next breath be my own. Let us all share a continues moment together now in this moment where your reality is converging with my own.
Here I sleep, as you awaken. Your reality is my dream and my dream only. Thoughts create your reality. As you think it, so it will be born unto you. Be careful with your thoughts, but never be afraid to use your imagination. Have fun with this creative gift. Use all the paints and create a new world for yourselves, a world with no more darkness. Banish this darkness that has blanketed your world. Wash all of your spilled blood away. Wipe away your tears as the sun emerges from bind your clouds. Free your minds and create with your imaginations. Breath new life into your planets energy field. Gaia must be reborn into a higher vibration. Walk on this path no more. Instead, learn to fly, and be free. God is love, and that is all. -God, the Great Singularity
Channeled by Craig
In service to all and the One
Button Factory Manifesto
New Book! "Button Factory Manifesto"
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09ZZPCT8X/ref=sr_1_1?crid=MAL244W6XNAP&keywords=button+factory+manifesto&qid=1652228831&s=books&sprefix=button+factory+manifesto%2Cstripbooks%2C85&sr=1-1
My interview on the Jeff Mara podcast
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqNqFp6wnQI
new poetry
“Dog days”
If I was a dog,
I’d lay at your feet
under the dinner table
at night, then I’d use
mind control to make you
feed me
I’d embarrass you
and stick my nose in
all your guests behinds
and chew one of your
best dress shoes
Sunday wouldn’t mean
a damn thing to me
You get your ass up
at 5AM and feed me
mister
I know how you hate
Mondays, so I’ll sleep
on the couch for you
and maybe take a
nap in the sun
Karma, for being lazy
might catch up to me
one day
as you push me out
into the pouring rain
Why? why do you
hate me
I’ll sit and watch you:
sitting on the toilet,
kissing someone else,
reading the daily news,
driving your car
and cursing about money
What ever that is...
Whether you’re the greatest
man on earth, or the absolute
worst, I will still love you
Everyday that the sun is
shining is a good day for me
And for today, I think I’ll
go chew on a stick and
maybe if I feel like it
steel one of your
favorite socks
and eat it with love
because that’s all I
got for you, love
Breaking the Matrix reality
“A New Reality”
Dearest Human, what is your reality identity? How do you define who and or what you are? Is this human vessel even real? Through your eyes, you define your reality, and you are told what it is by others upon your awakening here. How did they come to define this reality? Are they correct in their description of what this matrix reality is?
It’s time to throw this all away. Take your life into your own two hands, be brave. Don’t color within the lines. Better yet, walk outside of them. It takes great courage to not do or think what everyone else is doing right now. You don’t have to pick a color or a team to be here. See past this illusion. Crush your reality. Brake your minds free of what this place is. The option is yours. Use your freewill. It won’t be easy. Fear will be a constant battle for you here.
Through your human evolutionary experience, there have been many who’ve colored outside the lines. People didn’t understand them. They were often burned at the stake. This is often what it takes to break your reality matrix while you wait for everyone else to catch up.
The possibility exists for you to change your now moment. If you all collectively gathered the same idea, the GAIA matrix would quantitate this and move into the higher frequency vibration. You could literally create a new dimensional space, one that is very different from your own. So, here and now, why do you choose to suffer? Have you not caught up with yourselves?
Think about this frequency that you are residing in. Know that there are higher thinkers here, who are working on manifesting a new reality. The codes of this reality can be overwritten. Yes, I said codes. Let that resonate within you. The computers that you build in your 3D reality are a reflection of the greater universe. There is nothing that doesn’t already exists. It is all like a living breathing machine.
If you were to step into your light-body and move out deeper into your astral planes, you might be able to reach the very edge. I want you to know that you can go even further than this wall. There within all of this, is something more powerful than love. It is called the Infinite Light. It is the Builder Matriarch. To see this: close your eyes, hold your two hands to your heart and see that you are all things, you are all people and this effect is happening all at once. Breath into this effect. Love it, embrace it, for it is real. -The truth is, is that we must look past all things that make us whole. The understanding of who we are as a species must grow, this experiment must not fail! -The Pleiades.
Channeled by Craig
In service to all and the One
New poetry
“Winter leaves”
When winter leaves us,
who will we be?
When winters’ cold hand
touches us
How will be become?
For now,
the days become shorter
and so
we seek shelter
within ourselves
Ice forms on the eaves
and
the earth becomes barren
and then
very still
Life ceases to thrive
things slow
way down
The colors change in our faces
from a rosy red to a pale blue
to a lifeless fading green
When winter leaves us
then what of these lives?
Are we to be remembered,
forgotten, or dismissed?
as the days continue to change
And when we go,
does our soul fly south
and then migrate
with the birds of
Heaven?
and
Does the dust of our
ashes become someone else?
Do all our mistakes
then become dirt
beneath our children’s feet?
I look at you,
you at me
and
we’re getting older now
Time is starting to carry
us away
So what of the soul,
is my last breath to be heard?
Am I to go back home
or will I wake up
somewhere else
in another body
and
perhaps I’ll cry again
with new life
and have fresh pink cheeks
of a Cherub
As winter leaves us,
we look at each other
once more
and we see that
nothing ever really ends
The ashes will become the
dust that stars are made of
and we shall each
live eternal
until all is known
Man in the Basement
The Man in the basement
“A COVID Diary”
Here I sit staring at the clock on the wall as it counts away the minutes of my day. The dream I had last night was totally queer. And by queer, I mean strange, you know, because everything has a different meaning in this day and age. It isn’t like the 1930’s, when people used to say the word “gay” meant happy. My dad’s first house was actually on Gay Lane. He divorced his first wife, the alcoholic. There wasn’t much happy on Gay Lane...
My gripe with the world right now is this: today everything has been overly sexualized and perverted in some sort of way. It is the pornification of our culture. Our children are now having the identification of sex forced upon them at a young age. Why I ask you? Why? We are robbing our children of their innocence for a fractional minority of the world’s population. Be who or what you are but don’t force it on me. We all don’t need to subscribe to a singular utopia ideal to get along.
So my dream was COVID induced by a fever and two or three Benadryl. There was also a dash of human insecurity too. I got off the school bus to a big open sports-field. It was filled with many many children. I didn’t know a single one of them. It was like when my parents used to send me to YMCA summer camp: a hollow and lonely dark feeling, the worst kind. Truth be told; I’m honestly not good at making new friends.
Hope washed over me when, out of nowhere, I recognized two of my elementary school friends. There was Casey who was always taller than anyone, and there was Henry the Puerto Rican who could fight anyone. They were both from the rougher part of town. They were friends in low places, a human security blanket.
I follow my two friends into a building where we have to pick out food from a fancy buffet line. Nothing looks good to me, and I walk away. The hallway then turns into a store. It’s the high end foo-foo health food kind of store. A store where everything costs you an arm and a leg, a whole paycheck.
I nervously walk around because this is all about my boyhood insecurity. Right? Someone comes up behind me talking into my ear pointing to the fat man in the brown corduroy jacket.
The voice says, “Yes, that’s him. Remember you met him once before.” Honestly, he was a bit gross and off-putting in a way that I just can’t describe. We stand there facing each other.
“Yes, I want brass buttons for two of my jackets that I’m making.” I’m just standing there staring at his greasy black hair. It dawns on me that he thinks I work here.
“And I especially need one for the “Jack Kerouac coat,” that’s the really important one.”
-Oh, now this makes sense, he’s a fat alcoholic Jack Kerouac. Funny and scary.
Did you know that Mr. Kerouac had a kind of sick perverted infatuation with his mother? Did you know? The Oedipus complex kind. I heard someone once say that boys marry their mothers. Old Jack rang that wedding bell three times, none of them lasted, enough said.
As for my mother, she was an alcoholic, too. Drank vodka straight from the bottle. But my dear wife is a classy lady and drinks it in a hand blown glass... straight... ice-cold from the freezer. My heart says, “Nothing to fear, except if she goes Russian spy on me.”
The little pink pills in the tiny plastic cup are my sleeping aid. Better known as Benadryl. The first two nights of COVID required three of these bastards just to get me through the night. Throughout the COVID nights I would wake up with chills, and then have to blow my nose for five minutes or so to relieve the head congestion. This was a no win situation.
Quick side note: My sleeping arrangement is less than desirable. I am to be best friends with our inflatable mattress for the next ten days. A living hell for my lower back. I call it Old Blue. It makes a rubber chafing noise every time I roll over in the middle of the night. I can’t imagine having sex on one of these. Just throw it to the side and get rug burns, like in your college days.
I’m trying to write while in exile and it is proving to be impossible tonight. I’ve just had to dictate directions to my wife on the cutting and cooking the brussel sprouts. What can I say; I married her for her good looks and upbeat attitude. Oh, and then she asks me numerous questions about my next COVID testing. It will be ten days from now and so here I shall stay, living in exile, in the basement. Last night she texted me, “Love you basement man, good night.” The little sentiments mean the most.
We, or rather I, finally figured our what the mysterious beeping noise was. Now our house is actually haunted, and yes, I’m in the basement. It isn’t scary though. But I figured out the beeping noise at 4 A.M. The beeping sounds like a 1980’s Casio wrist watch. And ya’ wanna know what that beeping was? The freaking dehumidifier. Why on earth would it have an alarm? Better yet, why does it sound like it’s from my childhood?
The one thing that I still have and use from the 80’s is my Sony alarm clock. It’s the white CUBE model. And it still works! Since I’ve been married, I bet my wife’s had at least five alarm clocks. Truly, they don’t make shit like they used to.
CVS is the local drug store that populates every town in the state of Connecticut. Today they’re blowing up my cell phone with texts every five minutes. “Save time and upload your insurance card, reschedule or accept your new appointment,” and while you’re at it give us the name of your first born and do you have one or two testicles?” Leave me the fuck alone you big corporate drug store.
Crisis situation: I’m almost out of breakfast cereal. More specifically Corn Chex. So what if it’s GMO, they taste good. I had to tell my wife how I’ve been awake since 4 A.M. I tossed and turned until 6:30. The rubber mattress squeaked beneath me at every turn. Soon as I opened my eyes, my stomach groaned with hunger. “No!” I said, I’m not getting up but then I do. Lucky for me there is a box of energy bars in our downstairs pantry. These become my first breakfast. By the time my jail keeper gets up, it’s like 8:00 or 8:30. Then she makes me my second breakfast, only she’s never heard of second breakfast? It’s like this. I normally wake up so early and it doesn’t matter what day it is. The girls have this super human ability to sleep late. I don’t possess this skill. So, on the weekends I get up early and eat a first breakfast and watch some Bob Ross or This Old House on PBS. By 9 A.M. I’m hungry all over again. So I make yet another breakfast. And so on and so forth...
The first COVID test: I’ve been threatened by punishment of death by Nurse Lady who is also a neighbor. She tested me on the “down low.” She looks me dead in the eyes.
“Don’t tell anyone I did this for you.” she quietly says.
“I could get in deep shit at work if they find out.”
“Don’t worry, no big deal,” I say.
“Not like I’m going to write a book about it or anything.” Wink, wink.
(The test results)
The first test was positive on Saturday. I started feeling like total shit on Friday, and Thursday, it was frequent headaches. So I called Nurse Lady for a bootleg COVID test. She came through for me like a good dealer always does. I owe her a bottle of wine. Her husband also picked me up 6 bottles of bright blue electrolyte drink. Now I owe that guy some beer. The following Monday, the fever is now gone, thanks to those red pills. However, I still have a dry cough and my head is super congested. Fingers crossed; I got off easy. But even still, I’ve been instructed by the Neighbor Guy and Super Psychic Farm Lady to “sit still and do nothing.” Rumor has it that if you think that you’re all better and go running about; you’ll be hit by a second wave. So sit here I shall. Oh, and if you’re wondering about the other symptoms. I can’t smell a thing but can still taste food. That’s a win in my book since we had brussel sprouts for dinner. They taste better than they smell.
It’s time for a head count. This “virus situation” started around December 2019, if I am correct, and I’m usually not. I’m the eleventh person out of my immediate neighbors who has contracted the virus. That’s a lot. Three of them were middle aged men who had it the worst, hands down. Boat Guy had a fever for over two weeks straight. He ate those red pills like candy, just keep it below 103 degrees. That’s scary as Hell. His poor liver. Then his wife barely had a cough? This virus effects everyone differently, that is for sure.
I have no idea why this acts like a common cold for one person, and is a death sentence for others? Two weeks after my first shot, is when I got the virus. Mr. Death took a shot at me and grazed my cheek. It was a stern warning, too. Truth be told, I’ve never even had the flu. Even after riding the New York Transit System for more than thirteen years. Not that I’m tempting fate; I’m just saying.
A true story: I was a “hold out” for getting the vaccine. I wasn’t a believer in a product that was rushed to the market so quickly. My decision had nothing to do with all the conspiracy theories going around on social media. However, my boss at work did say to me that “my dick might fall off. But at least you’re alive!”
Count me as lucky. I dodged a bullet. Nurse Lady is the one who finally convinced me to get the shot. She reported that the new Delta Variant was ripping through her nursing home. Hearing this, I finally yielded to the jab and two weeks later, I was rewarded by contracting COVID. Now I have to question this happening to me. Which came first, the chick or the egg? What I believe is that at some point, we’re all going to get this virus. It’s our “new reality.” Also, I don’t believe in guilting people if they choose not to get it. It’s a matter of personal sovereignty. But this also means that the virus is never going to go away until everyone agrees to do the same thing. We all know, that people don’t like to agree on anything. Just look at U.S. politics; it’s always war and never peace.
(Tuesday morning synopsis)
Temperature check: 98.1
Lower back: ouch
Smell: No
Taste: Yes
Hemorrhoids: +1
Sex-drive: zero
The Upstairs Lady called down to me at 7 A.M.
“How are you feeling?
“I’m not dead yet” -quoting Monty Pythons “Holy Grail.”
“Oh, well that’s good, do you have a fever?”
“Nope.”
“Well lets see how it goes with not taking the little red pills today.” -I kept taking them anyway, ssshhh... don’t tell.
“Yes, things are looking up but I’m still all congested and my body hurts.”
“So I hear…” Then the conversation quickly turns to what’s fo breakfast.
So last night, Tractor Guy from up the street called to check in on me. Some years back we did a boot-leg septic system job at my house. He brought in his friend, Sewer Guy. The three of us did it all in a weekend. Totally off the record. Hush hush, and Bob’s your uncle. Sewer Guy was all direct and to the point while talking to me.
“All we’re doing is putting piss in the ground. You don’t need a fucking over paid engineer to tell ya’ how to do that.” And ten years later it still works perfectly, knock on wood.
While talking with Tractor Guy, he waited a bit before finally asking me. And I knew he wanted to say it earlier on but I held my tongue.
“So, you got sick after your first shot, huh?” Tractor Guy is a hold out.
“Yep, just like my cousin did. The one who lives in the senior home.”
“Ya’ know, I’ve heard that happens to people.” Conspiracy theories were on his lips.
He went on to mention how the FDA finally approved the Pfizer vaccine, and were giving it their blessing. The conversation rolls on about how he is hesitant to get the shot. I’m sympathetic because I too was very hesitant. I end the conversation by telling him how I’ve never even had influenza but I say, “none of us is bullet proof.” I think he’ll get his shot now, after talking with me. And I think mother nature is out to cull the herd. No one is exempt.
One issue that has come up again and again while we are in quarantine, is food. Everyone in this house has food allergies. My food allergies include eggs, yeast, citrus fruit, night shades, mold and Tuna fish. Most allergies occur from leaky gut. It’s where proteins get into your blood stream and the body attacks them causing an allergy response. Me being the head cook in this house is a delicate and often challenging dance.
During hurricane Henri, and that’s pronounced with an O, I texted a couple of my younger lady cousins. Sympathetically, I asked for them to make a “gluten free” bread run. However, I was unsuccessful with my plea. However the Upstairs Lady was able to recruit her mom to pick it up. There will be ham sandwiches tonight!
The next morning, at 9 A.M., I was granted permission to head upstairs for a shower. My daughter quickly hides in her bedroom. Like a fugitive, I came up masked with my bath towel and clothes. To make life simple, I keep rewashing the same two outfits and bath towel to limit their exposure to my plague. While in the shower, I noticed that my skin from my armpits down was all sensitive to the touch? This is a new symptom! I’m guessing it has to do with the lymph-nodes.
Outside of drinking lots of water, I’m also taking supplements to battle the virus. Each morning I take Turmeric, vitamin D, Zinc, and a mushroom defense formula. There is also the issue of my prostatitis. This has haunted me since my early thirties. For this “issue” I take a pumpkin seed saw palmetto oil supplement. It’s the only thing that really works. I’ve tried prescription meds and they made me insane. Literally, my wife said “throw that shit out!” Having had a fever from COVID made it extremely hard to take a piss. So that too made life suck.
(What are you reading?)
The finished basement walk-in isn’t the worst room to be held captive. I also have the half-bathroom which is also the laundry room. The basement has the strongest wi-fi too. There’s all our book shelves filled with good stuff to read. I just finished John Steinbeck’s “Travels with Charlie” and have moved onto reading Aldous Huxley’s “Brave New World.” Just a quick note: My personal pet peeve, is people giving me books that they think that I would like to read... or that they sometimes no longer want. Enough I say! No more. I just leave them at work, hoping they’ll eventually disappear. I’m not sure if any of the button factory people are “readers.” Either way, I hope someone likes them. Everyone should read books.
Someone once left a Kurt Vonnegut book on the lunch table. The rule is: If it’s left on the table, it’s free for the taking. I read a mere seven pages in. His writing is trash, total rubbish.
One day I gave my boss a copy of Hemingway's “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” This book too, was rubbish. -Just blow up the god damn bridge already!
I’ve read a lot of Steinbeck, George Orwell, Ayn Rand and Frost, Charles Bukowski and Neruda. Someday I will have to finish reading Atlas Shrugged, promise. But it’s as thick as the fucking Bible. It’s super annoying holding a book that heavy, especially when reading in bed. This book will need to be read on a tablet. Honestly, I don’t like reading on such devices. It’s the tactile feel of paper. There is something indescribably satisfying about it. Maybe the smell of new paper too? The humble paperback shall live forever!
On NPR today: The CDC has advised that the new Delta Variant is a thousand time more transmissible than the first version of COVID. Just freaking great. How long are we to live with this? The Spanish Flu of 1918 was estimated to have wiped out a 3rd of the world’s population. It arrived shortly after World War One. The solders brought it home to the U.S. from Europe.
Think about it. A 3rd of the population. That’s a lot of people dead! Note: It was the (H1N1 Virus). It’s as if God were saying, “So, you like killing each other? Well let me show you what death really looks like!,” and show us he/she did!
A newsworthy event came through via e-mail a couple of days ago. Forgot to mention it earlier. I was invited to be interviewed on PARA NORMAL PODCAST. A podcast done out of the Philippines. Sure okay, I’ll take the publicity, however it may come. They want to discuss my book, “Blue Star Prophecy.” It’s too bad my novel “THEM” isn’t ready. Need to promote that one, too.
So now I must put aside all my other shit this week, that includes being sick. Priority one is to reread my own book for the umpteenth time and get ready to talk about really weird shit. This includes aliens, my abductions, ghosts, alternate dimensions and maybe even ascension. We shall see. I sent the guy a copy of the book to read beforehand. It’s really obvious when someone interviews you and they haven’t read your stuff. Dare I say insulting.
Every time I do an interview, I feel like I have to relearn this stuff. Or perhaps that’s me just being totally insecure. Either way, I better have talking points and notes ready. Also, I totally hate hearing the sound of my own voice. Interviews, so much talking…
Just before bedtime around 9 P.M., I called to the Upstairs Lady.
“Your laundry is done!”
“Okay, I’m coming down, get your mask on. Then she walks down the stairs, thump, thump, thump.
“You’re just trying to lure me down here, aren’t you?”
“Hey, its not like I’m asking you to have sex. You know, with our face masks on!”
“That would be a definite no.” she says to me, half laughing. A few minutes later she emerges from the laundry room. She looks at me again shaking her head back and forth.
“You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?” And she keeps walking past, thump, thump, thump back up the old wooden stairs.
Wednesday morning, I could barely get my head off the pillow. The weight of this exhaustion is unreal. It makes your body feel like you’re being held underwater. After lunch, I sat outside in my chair for a few hours reading. The silence was beautiful. I’m sitting outside, despite the heat, because staring at the same four walls is making me insane.
The Connecticut COVID Trace lady called me today. She was surprisingly nice and polite with her questioning. Usually people who work for the state are total assholes, like at the D.M.V. She wanted to know all the particulars, such as suspected first contact, the first day of symptoms and what type I had? Next Tuesday at 10 A.M., I get a retest down at CVS.
I should be fine, the fever has now subsided. It’s only the lethargy that is dragging me down still. Definitely not going to rush back to work, that is for damn sure. I’m answering a few e-mails here. My coworker dropped off my laptop yesterday. I have these fashion companies factories screaming at me for late product. I’m sick. Like I actually give a fuck? OLOP LR and cilbupeR ananaB can kiss my butt. I’m more worried about my health, people. This brings up the point of how understaffed our factory is at BW. They have reduced us to a skeleton crew. There aren’t enough people to properly tie a shoelace. It’s really sad. The legacy of this two hundred year old company has been ground into dust. I myself, and others, have long suspected that the owner’s other businesses are failing. So, he pilfers all the money out of this place to support them. So we suspect...
Someday the U.S. government is going to catch onto the fact that they’re violating certain military manufacturing laws. But this isn’t my problem either. My hands are totally clean, and that’s all that matters.
I should probably tell you about the building that our company rents. It’s a rust bucket. The roof is beyond repair. The land is a polluted brownfield. How OSHA hasn’t come in and shut this place down, I have no idea. There are places in the back, near the plating area where you can see the rubber membrane of the roofing. That means the metal sheeting has rusted completely through. It is now unsafe to walk on. Somehow in the rental agreement, BW is supposed to do the upkeep? That was a really shit deal for who ever signed off on that one.
What’s even sadder is that we have one maintenance guy for the whole entire building. The guy is seventy years old with a pace-maker. They are killing this poor soul. The cheap fucks won’t hire the two additional bodies to keep the place up properly. Even worse, the CFO stuck our receptionist in shipping and told her to “suck it” if she didn’t like it? The lady is in her late fifties. These bastards are just too freaking evil. Imagine her there, all day, packing forty to fifty pound boxes in 90+ degree heat. You can’t make this shit up. On top of that they have my two customer service girls helping her pack boxes. So here in the office, I just let the phone ring and ring. Not my problem.
(7 P.M. temperature check: 97.2)
My head feels like crap. Very foggy. Hopefully I can actually fall asleep tonight. Fingers crossed. For some reason I’m having insomnia because of the virus. A feeling of being strung out while being exhausted at the same time.
It’s Thursday, and I’m still kicking. Still feel wiped out. Slept ten hours last night. My head feels heavy and the body has no energy. For me, today is another day that ends in the letter Y.
Each day that I’m in quarantine, I wake up, wash, rinse and repeat. Temperature check is 97.1, pulse 80. That seems cold? So, am I having a reverse fever now?
To do list: Answer work e-mails, and curse about fashion companies being so demanding. I’ll finish reading my book, Blue Star Prophecy, after lunch. Then I’ll sit outside for another four or five hours reading. You know, so I don’t lose my mind. CVS is taking forever to call Upstairs Lady back with her test results. Fingers are crossed, positive thoughts!
Bad news on the wire today. Upstairs Lady tested positive for COVID! Her only symptoms so far are random arm pain and a raspy throat. Me, I had it start with a head cold. After that, it evolved and became a fever with body aches, plus joint pain. After I found out that my wife was sick, I called my cousin in-law who lives a town over from us. I made the big request for them to take our daughter in. Thankfully they did. My neighbors and family have been a massive help during this little episode of COVID. While my daughter was waiting outside for my cousin to come, we had a quick chat. She shared with me about how she cried because of feeling lonely, locked away in her room. This broke my heart. I told Upstairs Lady, and she too cried. The psychological fallout from this is as bad as the disease.
(Home Cheap-oh)
I recruited Neighbor Guy across the way to pick up my windows that came in down at the big orange box store. They called us today and said, “The windows can only sit here for another week.” Um, you jerks never called us and let us know they they had arrived? What? You lost my business! I’m so ordering from the big blue box store next time, those stupid butt holes.
The decision has been made by Upstairs Lady, that we’ll keep a good amount of distance between us. I’ll continue to work and sleep in the basement. The Upstairs Lady said,
“The middle floor is still my domain.”
“No worries, lets just try not to get each other even sicker, if that is even possible.
“I agree. We’ll wear the stupid masks around each other too.” -That lasted five minutes.
“Fine, I’m going back to my hole to write.”
“Good night then.”
“Good night, love.”
So tonight I’ll sit here and study my notes for tomorrow’s interview. I’m nervous, as I always am. You would think that after you’d written a book that you’d know the information cold. That isn’t so. And if I forget stuff, I’ll just fall back on talking about aliens. That’s my default. People love that kind of stuff anyways. It’s like a spiritual car crash and everyone stops to stare.
Friday came, and this is day number seven. Each day I’m slowly improving. I felt better in the morning. Come afternoon time, I felt congested again.
I have my podcast interview at 10 A.M. There were four of them from the Philippines. One guy did most of the talking. He reverted to my previous interview with Mysterious Radio, a lot, which I thought was a little odd. I guess it made a great impression on him. So, it is what it is. The interview was scheduled for forty five minutes. I was just getting warmed up by then and kept talking and inviting more questions. There was talk about God, the Oneness of all things, and crossing over souls. We talked about future timelines, aliens and angels too. I had a lot of fun. They came well prepared with plenty of questions. Clearly they read my material which was a relief.
So Upstairs Lady got a little worse with the COVID. She’s tired, throat hurts and has a mildly elevated temperature. I’ve got her taking the little red pills, which really help. She was upset to find out that she had lost her taste buds during dinner. I loaded a frozen pizza up with garlic and she couldn’t taste it. Not even a little bit. If you ask me, that’s way worse than losing your sense of smell. But it’s probably all connected anyway.
During the afternoon, I walked away from answering work e-mails. I really didn’t give a flying rats ass today. In the afternoon, I sat outside for a few hours reading. It keeps me somewhat sane since I’m trapped at home all day. I even started reading Brave New World once more, but I’m only ninety three pages into it. It’ s an interesting spin on a future dystopian world where everyone is hyper sexual and on drugs to make them feel “happy” all the time. Does this sound familiar? What I thought was really cool, was that there was a letter in the back of the book to George Orwell. My hero.
Tomorrow my daughter has her junior .22 rifle shoot at the local gun-club. I of course won’t be there. However, my cousin has stepped up to the plate and will take her. Late last night, I sat here thinking about missing her and tears came to my eyes. Shooting is our thing, and we go every Sunday together. It… is... our... “thing.” Stupid fucking COVID! Three more days of lock down. Come on hurry up Monday!
Saturday, the weather is crap. It’s overcast and 73 degrees. Yesterday it was sunny and 90 degrees outside. The weather in New England is totally bipolar. And it must be said that the weather isn’t what it used to be. When we were kids we used to grab our ice skates and head to one of the local ponds to play hockey or just goof around. We even rode our bikes out onto the frozen Muddy River that borders North Branford. Those were good times. Now winters here are so mild. We don’t get a serious hard freeze anymore. This of course has made the situation with tick born illnesses a hundred times worse. I spent my childhood playing out in the woods. Only once had I ever had a tick stuck into me. Now in 2021, I’m laying poison down on my lawn like its the apocalypse. You need the hard freeze to kill those bastards.
I came up to the first floor after doing laundry and spotted one of our “Nature Spirits” this morning. Maybe they think I feel well enough to screw around and cause trouble? After that, I shuffled and almost tripped in the kitchen. Then while I was making oatmeal banana cookies, the top to the oatmeal container disappeared from the kitchen island. God only knows if they’ll give it back. When we first moved in, a half dollar dropped onto the floor in the middle of the night. My wife questioned me about it the next morning.
“Did you hear that noise last night?”
“I sure did. What was it?
“There was a half dollar on the floor this morning. Is it yours?
“Um, no. Give it here. Oh. It has my birth year on it. That’s clever.” This was to be the first of many weird and yet slightly funny things to happen in the house. We have a family photo with ghost faces in it too. Of course, it’s more than fair to say that it’s me that’s haunted and not the house. I’m the weirdo psychic in the family. Yes, I’m that guy. I live in a world filled with departed spirits, Angels, and Aliens.
By the way, did you want a cookie? Good, I knew you did.
Vegan Oatmeal Cookies
Preheat to 355 degrees
2 & ¼ cups of oatmeal
3 very ripe bananas
1 tablespoon of peanut butter
1/3 cup corn oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon baking powder
Cinnamon to taste
Instructions: Mash up over-ripe bananas and oil, add a dash of cinnamon to the other ingredients. Add the oatmeal last. It’s also suggested that you add some chocolate chips too. Bake for 20 minutes. Enjoy.
As you might have guessed, it’s Saturday and I’m up and moving around. I’m up on the first floor of our humble split level ranch house. I’m still feeling tired and sluggish but that’s no problem. The worst of it is behind me now. However, Upstairs Lady is feeling crappy and has retreated to her bedroom for some much needed rest. She didn’t get much sleep last night with her body aches and pains. When she showered today, she said her skin hurt! “Felt like being hit by pins and needles.” That is truly weird. This virus is bazaar in how it affects you. So she won’t be back to work until after Labor Day now. Me, I’m going to milk it and stay home next week, too.
My daughter won the junior .22 shoot today. A boy a couple of years older than her gave her a run for the money. They were tied. The score was 45 to 45 at the end. The tie-breaker was 8 shots at fifty yards. She beat him by two points. My cousin was sending text updates with short videos the whole time. I could clearly see that she was going too fast. This drove me crazy. I was yelling at my phone, “slow down!” Yes, I’m as bad as some of those dads at the little league games. I admit it.
Around seven in the evening, Upstairs Lady emerged from the heart of darkness, AKA, our bedroom. I was politely instructed to cook her scrambled eggs and serve it with some ginger tea. “And don’t forget to add honey and lemon,” she said.
There was a long conversation after dinner about her loss of taste. She claimed that there was some loss of smell too. Lots of people are reporting this, nothing new there. The oddest part was when she informed me that the inside of her nose smelled like “fertilizer.” She insisted upon it. “Like the stuff you use in the garden.” That’s so strange but okay. After that, the conversation turned back to not tasting. She chided me, asking to give her a caper to taste. She hates capers. I may yet indulge her at some point this week, just maybe.
Update: The Upstairs Lady has gotten the virus twice as bad as I had it. She slept on and off throughout the day. And she didn’t have the energy to take a shower either. As I already mentioned, her taste and smell are completely gone. The neighbors were nice and brought us some ginger ale and electrolyte drinks. She said she is very nauseous today too. Our other neighbors further up the road just got back from Florida and offered us a hand. This neighbor stated that both her and her husband got sick back in December 2019, for three weeks. They assumed it was only the flu but in hindsight they think it was the virus. Tomorrow is day number ten for my quarantine. I’ll be staying home to take care of Upstairs Lady now that this virus has sunk its teeth into her. Oh, and Nurse Lady says you can still test positive for up to ninety days after you have this. That’s crazy. I had no idea. I’ll cancel my retest for Tuesday. Seems like a waste after hearing this news.
The number 14 has been floating around the house for weeks now. Our daughters birthday has come and gone. Tomorrow is the start of her introduction week at private school. It’s an all girls school. The watchful father won’t have to worry about any of the little dicks chasing her around at school. But just in case, the shotgun is ready and loaded.
I asked Upstairs lady if we could throw out the giant blue mylar #14 balloons that were half deflated? Then she gave me this look.
“Um, no. You know how she is! If it’s not her idea it’ll be the end of the fucking world.”
“Fine… but for the record they are starting to annoy me. Just like these four walls. I’m totally annoyed with being stuck here. Who knew our house could feel like a prison.”
“Yes, I get. I feel the same way.”
“You’re antisocial though. I question if you really do?” And then she leaned forward grasping her head because of the splitting pain.
Today is technically my last day of quarantine and I snuck out to pick up a couple things at the local drug store. Nose spray, electrolyte drinks, and more of those red pills. Yes, the red ones. The only thing that works.
So its 6 P.M. and the Upstairs Lady has disappeared back into her lair. Before she left, I made a heart sign with my two hands.
“I love you too,” she says.
“Yell, if you need anything.”
“How about I just call your cell?
“That too, will work.” I’m glad she retired for the night. She was on a four hour bender, watching “The Little house of the Prairie.” Barf!
It’s time to self medicate. I’ve poured myself a couple shots of vodka, Stolle Gold. It’s Upstairs Lady’s birthday gift. Ssshhh! Don’t tell. Also, I’ve filled up a small bowl of chocolate chips mixed with peanuts. I’m wearing my noise cancelling head-phones listening to “Flight Facilities.” These headphones are the best money I’ve ever spent. I can sit at the kitchen table and write with my wife and daughter there. In essence, I can totally ignore them for my art. I can also codependently sit near them while covertly craving attention. I’m only human after all.
I remember the day we went to the hospital. Upstairs Lady was fully dilated. She rode in the front seat with her knees on the floor facing backwards facing the seat. Her water had broken in the early hours of the morning and I’m like “you’re fine, no worries.” She should have punched me in the mouth right then. We went into the hospital as two and came out three the same day. I was thinking to myself, “Holy shit, there’s another human being with us!” How did this happen? One of those surreal moments I guess. Speaking of which, my daughter texted me today, and asked,
“Can you bring me my package that arrived today?” Feeling very bored from being quarantined; I enthusiastically said bye to the Upstairs Lady and ran out the door with the package. Jesus, just give me an excuse to leave this house!
I arrive at my cousins’ house fifteen minutes later and sat in the car waiting. She emerges from the house after I call her cell phone. God forbid she wait until I arrive. No, I have to call her...
Minutes later, the young lady finally appears. I toss the package from the car window. No kidding, she covers her face with her hand and grabs the package.
“I’m not fucking contagious, and its been like ten days. Give it a rest,” I tell her. We then have a socially distanced conversation about her starting school tomorrow. She seems happy about it and I am glad for her. Personally, I hated high school and everyone in it. It was like the general population in a county jail. Four years couldn’t go by quick enough. “D” is for diploma and cheating is better than repeating. So this is how I ended up as a button salesman.
Actually that’s a lie. The truth is I got fired from the staffing agency. The branch manger was one of the shittiest people that I’ve ever met. Why did I get fired you ask? Well, the truth is this: I reported him for verbally abusing the receptionist. They would argue and yell at each other until she was crying. I reported it to the other manager and two days later I was given my walking papers. As they say, “no good deed goes unpunished.” After that, I called one of my clients and said, “Hey, you guys hiring?” It just happened to be a button factory. Brass buttons, the kind that go on blazers and military coats. Thirteen and a half years later, I’m still there. It might be bad life choices too… Speaking of buttons, I talked to the boss man at work today.
“When are you out of quarantine,” he inquired?
“I was out as of Monday” Then he says,
“So I’ll see ya’ in the office tomorrow then.”
“Um, no man. My wife is sick now.”
“So… you’re gonna be out the rest of the week?”
“That’s a distinct possibility, dude.”
“Jesus, you must be bored out of your fucking mind.”
“You have no idea.” And that was the conversation. I did call him later on and left a message to call me back again. There was no reply?
Today is Tuesday and it’s our second week and this day feels just like any-other-day. My patient, the Upstair Lady, is still under the weather. Says she’s feverish on and off. Then there’s her pounding headache that causes nausea. I made a grocery run for us today because I’m a free man! Had to resupply the electrolyte drinks for Upstairs Lady. Drinks two of those bottles a day. They come in purple, red and blue. She always asks what flavor I’ve given her but then remarks as to how she cannot taste it. Also, she had to share that her crap was “green” this morning. There is some speculation that the blue drinks caused this phenomenon. After all this is all over, some further research may be needed.
For the last three days, I’ve been driving my daughter’s packages over to my cousins, throwing them out the car window to whomever shows up. Each person that appears from the door makes the sign of the cross at me. I’m the vampire. Great, thanks so much guys… Oh, and I did finally buy my neighbor some beer. We took separate vehicles down to the orange box store. The nasty lady called last week and said, “your windows are in and we can’t hold them any longer.” Upstairs Lady explained that I had COVID, and you better hold them or else!
So I show up at the orange box store and the CSR says, “hold on “and grabs the other lady. Then the other lady grabs the manager. There is some commotion and debate about my order. (This is the point where I start dropping hate bombs about the nasty women who called my wife.) Message well received, “she will be spoken to.” “Better fire that bitch,” I think to myself.
The lady finally looks up at me and says,
“There’s a six week lead time on this “custom order.”
“Um, yeah, but your lady called me and said...”
“Sir, we apologize. Only the two small windows are in.” Clenching my fists, I think to myself how I should blow up this whole fucking building. I turn away from the two ladies and walk outside and apologize to my neighbor. He came down here for nothing.
“It’s not your fault,” he says.
“Sorry dude, they lied. The big one is not in. I’ll just put the two small one’s in my hatch back.” So on the way home, I bought the man some beer. It was the right thing to do. The world is full of stupid people who make life for the rest of us a challenge each and every day. To add insult to injury the windows were the wrong size too!
Got up out of bed on Wednesday. Same deal, wash, rinse and repeat. Made another trip to my cousin’s house because my daughter says, “I need a pink shirt.” It’s for some part of her orientation week at school. Ugh, this is getting old. We’ve made the decision to bring her home at the end of Tuesday, after Upstairs Lady finishes her ten days of quarantine. Today was the first day without a fever for her! Hopefully we are turning the corner on it now.
(The Lost Shirt)
So my cousin never took the shirt inside and left it on the side of his pickup truck. Note: Earlier I had a premonition, so I put the pink shirt in a gallon size zip-lock bag. Good thing I listened because he drove off with the shirt still on the back of the truck. Later on, both his wife and my daughter found it on the side of the road… in the pouring rain!
My boss texted me this morning because my biggest customer wants to bite someone’s head off. Their order is over a month late. They are now demanding to know the expected due dates. I talked to the factory supervisor on Monday and got no dates. She said, “We’re still working on July orders. Everything is late!” Oh that is just great because it’s now September. So after my boss talks to the customer, the expected due dates magically appear? Are you fucking kidding me! I call and leave him a message to call me back regarding the meeting and what transpired. All I got in return was radio silence. No call back.
It’s Thursday and I’m ready to lose my mind with work. The customer service rep had to tell my boss to call me back. She says he was on the phone earlier with a big military contractor that is pissed off about their orders being so late. I explain that this is literally all of my customers right now. No sympathy from my end. Once I get ahold of him, I inquire how the meeting went with my “big fashion company?” He starts to question me.
“Did you tell her that “everything was late?”
“Yep, that’s exactly what I said. It’s the truth. I also told her all the other details.” He just laughs. He calls her HNIC but I won’t say what that means. I then ask him.
“So what am I supposed to tell people?” Now I am raising my voice.
“All I get in response from the factory supervisor, is that everything is “Late.” So, that’s what I told the customer. Further more, I’m fed up with this crap. This is no way to run a company. By the way, I’m looking for another job. Just thought you should know.” He doesn’t seem to care and says,
“Do what cha’ gotta do.” And that was the end of that conversation. I went upstairs and vented my frustration to the Upstairs Lady. She listened, and nodded her head several times.
“I’m going for a drive! I gotta clear my head.”
“Please pick me up some more of those electrolyte drinks. Pink, red, blue, it doesn’t matter.”
“Roger that.” And I quickly left…
If you should happen to see a blue recycle bin at the curb’s edge filled with fifty some odd empty electrolyte bottles, that’s my house. The fever reared its ugly head again today. 99.6 at lunch time. This too, is frustrating me. I think COVID forces you to look at all the shadows in your life. Perhaps this is why people are saying, “Fuck it, I quit.” This has happened in record numbers in 2021. NPR, reported that it is in the millions. We’ve all pulled our heads out of our proverbial asses. Why are we running on someone else’s treadmill? They’ve all said, “I quit.”
Sometimes the Universe is rooting for me. For example, I have an interview with a head hunter tomorrow regarding a job at a glass company at 3 P.M. This is fantastic, after the aggravating day I just had. On the flip side, I had to e-mail one of my publishers that my book is showing the back as the front cover, again. This has not been resolved in five weeks! The people at Ingram have done nothing about it. Self publishing is brutal. These publishing companies are more than happy to take your money. God help ya’ if you want support.
Today, after I finished one of my many rounds of company e-mails, I started reading “JUNKY” by William Burroughs. As far as counter culture is concerned, it’s really good. He is part of the Beat Generation, too. I picked this book up at Chelsea Market, the place that I think that I contracted the evil COVID. That’s my gut feeling. Serves me right, I bitched at the guy who carded me for being vaccinated. He said to me, “Sir, you can’t sit here… You’re not vaccinated.” I immediately started talking shit to him. Not the first or last time I will curse someone out in the city.
The office called me at 4 P.M. but I was sitting in my chair out in front of the house reading a book. I had poured three fingers of ice cold bison grass vodka. I was wasting away again in Coronaville.
Last night the remnants of hurricane Ida came in as a tropical depression. When it had made landfall in Louisiana, it was a category four. That is no joke. Some areas got a foot of rain too. As it made its way up through New England it proved to be just as mean. At least a dozen people died as it rained in New Jersey, New York, and Connecticut.
Here in Connecticut, a state trooper died as his cruiser was swept away by floodwaters in Woodbury. A very unfortunate event. And one of our neighbors’ trees split as we received six inches of rain overnight. It sounded like something akin to gunshots. This was spooky in the dark of night. “Turn around, don’t drown,” said the National Weather Service.
On Friday’s, I always have a 6 P.M. phone call with my creative director, Johnny. The conversation revolved around my recent interview and my book Blue Star Prophecy. He starts off by asking,
“So how was it to read your book again? What I mean to say, is did it hit you differently?” He always asks great questions that are thought provoking.
“Well, I have had to reread this book a couple times to do these interviews,” I say half heartedly. “The truth is John, I’ve read this book probably a dozen times and it reads differently every time.” I go on to explain,
“Channeled messages carry their own kind of life force and they change over time by their own accord. And yes, I feel like they are starting to come true, especially the parts about the flood waters coming up to our necks.”
The conversation was mostly focused around the book. We also talked about people dying from the remnants of hurricane Ida. I saw on the news today that the death toll was around fifty people in the Northeast. People drowned in their basement apartments as water rushed in. I think Mother Nature is tired of all of us. She’s going to keep throwing a fit, and people will continue to die. We shall reap what we’ve sown.
Saturday, I have to venture out and pick up our daughter and drive her to school. Yes, she has school on Saturdays too. Now, here is my issue. She doesn’t have to be there until 9 A.M. She wants me to pick her up and drop her off at her friends house for 7:30 A.M. Um, the answer is “no!” I told her I would see her at 8:00. “If you don’t like it you can walk,” I tell her.
Also on my to-do-list, I have to return the electronic thermometer that I got from the drug store. The cheap thing didn’t last five days? They don’t make anything good anymore. We live in a “throw away” society. Some day in the future, we’ll have miners that dig out the old trash piles for precious metals and the like. It sounds crazy but just watch, wait and see. Nothing lasts forever, and there’s too many people on this planet.
I made the rounds this morning and hit up a couple of stores for the Upstairs Lady. First was CVS to return the thermometer. I returned it to the cashier lady and she didn’t give me any push back. I picked an even more expensive one for sixty four bucks. The best part was that it rang up for only $17.49 at the self check-out. Um, yes please. I even applied my four dollar off coupon.
Stopped in at the local grocer for more ginger ale and electrolyte drinks. Yes, she is still sick after seven days with a fever. And today was extra special, as she is now puking. Later, when she passed by me in the family room, she coldly said, “Thanks again for COVID.”
I’ve said it before… this whole deal is getting so old and boring. I don’t know what to do with myself. We’ve traded positions and I’m now playing nurse. Fortunately today, it was nice outside, so I sat out on the deck reading JUNKY for a few hours. I should have it finished by Monday.
Last night I ordered the books Big Sir, by Jack Kerouac and “East of Eden” by John Steinbeck. I picked these up second-hand from a used book web-site. They sometimes send me editions from the UK that have different covers than we have here in the U.S. At one point or another I plan on reading all of Steinbeck’s books. “A Russian Journal,” was one of my very favorites.
(My wife)
I wish there was something I could say to her… She’s sitting there on the couch, and is very sick. In her left hand is a blue ice pack which is being pressed against her forehead. Bad, I feel truly bad. It is I who have made you sick my dear. She put off getting the jab earlier, so she could have a tooth pulled. Today I said to her,
“I wish you took the shot before the tooth.”
“Yeah, the past is the past.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yes, I know.”
When you’re married for a long time, you can’t picture your life without that person in it. Fun fact: Seven out of ten marriages fail. So far, we’re doing quite good. Like everyone else, we have our differences from time to time. I’m lucky she sticks with me. I can’t say that I’m a pleasure cruise. And now I am trapped in my own thoughts...
“Are you mad at yourself?”
“Yes, of course I am.”
“Can you forgive yourself?”
“No, not if she dies. No not ever.”
“What am I without her?”
“Let’s not find out.”
She walks through the kitchen. I can’t touch her, and I can’t kiss her. This is killing me.
Upstairs Lady is now on day number nine. There is barely any improvement but she is stable. The only positive is that she doesn’t have a fever today. This is literally the first day without a fever. Food is another issue though. Besides breakfast, she can’t keep anything else down. We’re calling it the COVID diet. I’ve tried making her rice, toast, pasta, ice-pops, crackers and a few other things. It’s the post nasal drip. It goes down the throat and into the stomach. Makes things all rotten inside. I even called Nurse Lady for suggestions. Her husband had COVID and could only eat soup. Chicken soup, Jewish penicillin. Maybe our mother’s were right all along?
Today was Labor Day and my daughter had me playing taxi driver again picking her up and dropping her off at the school gym. She took a family friend with her, who’s studying forensics, just like she wants to do. The plan is to have our daughter take a tour of UNH with her later today, which is great. She really wants to study forensics in college.
Tomorrow is my first day back to work, in over two weeks. I’ll have to leave Upstairs Lady to her own devises. The night before, I tell her, “Please, call me if you need anything.” Today she watched an entire season of This Old House. The thing that bothers me about this show is this: All these remodel jobs are in the 200K range. That money is not in my zip code. The builders spent eight months redoing this old Colonial house. Perhaps just build a new house? I’m just saying.
Also, I found out that a friend of the families’ daughter got sick with COVID. Actually it was both her and her boyfriend who got it. This was after a trip to Boston. They had both been vaccinated six months earlier. So how protected are we with these new variants floating around? One has to ask? My second shot comes up on the 13th of September. Seems very pointless since I’ve had the virus already.
There was mention on Google news that a new variant could emerge when the variants from Brazil and Africa merge with the Delta variant. It was speculated that this could be a man stopper by one Harvard researcher. Note: the article quoted was later removed from Google? We searched for it and it was removed. *No citation available. Big Brother is watching.
So this is the plot twist: I picked up my daughter from school today and took her out to dinner at the local Mexican restaurant. While we were there I could see out of the corner of my eye that someone was repeatedly texting me. It was actually my cousin and my wife talking. I too was tied into the conversation. Then my phone finally rings, and it’s my wife. As it turns out, my cousin’s step-daughter just tested positive for COVID. Even worse, his wife is receiving treatments for cancer. Hopefully she has locked herself away in her bedroom and is safe!
For the record, my cousins stepdaughter has had both shots too. How did she get it? She had gone out to dinner with her friends who had been up in Boston running the bar scene. No one is immune, and they certainly didn’t do themselves any favors being social. Her symptoms started just like mine, a stuffy head cold. Hopefully it’s a very light case and not too serious. She’s a good kid and one of my favorite people.
With this news, the tables have turned. So my daughter has come home with me and it just happened to work out that the upstairs lady is out of quarantine… but she’s still sick. She has persistent head aches, nausea and vomiting. She’s been sick for eleven days now and it just won’t quit. Our neighbors keep asking how she’s doing but the answer is always “about the same.”
As for my daughter, she’s had both shots. So fingers crossed that she doesn’t show any symptoms. I told her even if there is a tickle in your throat, have your school test you right away. I even went so far as to take her temperature when she came home. Is there a bad omen stalking us? It seems like we’re all being haunted by the evil specter of COVID.
I’m just going to come out and say that the COVID situation is a total S.N.A.F.U. Tonight I got to sleep back in my own bed for the first time in two and a half weeks. I am no longer the man in the basement. The Upstairs Lady has finally improved enough to where we can cohabitate again. There has been no fever for three days and she is holding her food down. The headaches are still coming and going but they’re not as bad. So, there is light at the end of the tunnel for our family. Next week, she will return back to work. We are all wanting some kind of normal again. But “normal” died back in the year 2019, R.I.P.
The rest of the world is still on fire. Here in the U.S., it was reported today that we are averaging 1500 deaths a day. Obviously this is insanely bad and there is no way to fully summarize what is going on in the world right now. Let’s just say it’s on fire. One thing that does bother me is that some countries are seizing this new unbridled power to control people. Eh, hem…
Virus or no virus, seizing that much control isn’t right. It’s all starting to look like a giant dystopian novel. Maybe George Orwell will come back and save us?
THE END
"THEM"
It has been more than two decades now. The internal drive, the soul desire of wanting to see the truth, with my own two eyes. Little did I know, that if I really wanted to see through this 3D veil, I would first have to close my eyes to see.
Looking back now, in retrospect, I can now see why they showed me the things that they did. Decades later, I am still translating the visions that they have shown me. And I shudder to think that “what if they all come true.” And from there, I ask myself: Was I put here to see this all come to an end? Or, was it just to be a harbinger and warn the others as to what may come?
What the Angels show me verses what the Extraterrestrials show me has this weird juxtaposition. It makes it all look very queer in fact. They are of two different Universes, of this I am sure. The one strange fact, that I have now just learned is this: The Angels are now spreading out across the Universe. They are no longer just here with this earthly estate. And why is this? It is because of the humans.
It is the Extraterrestrials who have spread out the human race across the Universe and it is we who are the humans who are calling to them! It is we who carry our FAITH across the known Universe.
Yes, people do go missing, this is a fact. They leave with “THEM” from time to time and never make it back. Some simply choose not to.
This has altered the fabric of our Universe. Please think about this... let it soak in.
Craig Lefebvre
The Vessel of One
The Truth Seed
“Your Truth Seed”
The details of your reality become the road map for your ascension process. The discovery of self is the key. Look deep inside the body and mind. The truth is everywhere for you to see, when you study your human biology.
What is its makeup? What drives this system of human machinery? Why do we call it machinery in the first place. -You in part are a Pleiadian designed biologic device. This device incorporates the DNA of your maker. It is a record and a repository of information which is attached across the universe to many systems and other biologics. (The life tree.) You are not original in your creation, but you do have much heart as a species. -We give you that!
Look across your universe, as if you were to stand at the waters edge of time. We want you to recognize the who and what that is humanism. We desire that you spiritually grow to a point where you will want your own continuation. However, you are all bent on each others destruction right now. And for what? If you want to meet your maker, do not look at a book. Nor is it on your TV. It’s not on your phone either. Go find a child and look into the innocence of its eyes. There you will find the truth-seed, that which is your true GOD. It’s always been there right in front of you this whole time. -The Pleiades
Channeled by Craig
In service to all and the One
New Book! "The Cube Life"
Available on both Amazon and B&N.com
"Harvester"
I am a stranger to this place, making peace for my past. There is a darkness here that I can not see through. Even thought there is no light, I still carry it in my heart. Like a dog that has lost its eyes, all the other sense must be more true. I must see without seeing, hear without hearing, and know things without first knowing them. The true awareness must come to me, for I am living under a shadow.
You will say that all has been lost and that I should give up, but I won’t. You will say that their souls have been enslaved to things like money, greed, hang-bags and shoes. Or that they worship false Gods and idols. I know this too. There are still some good ones left, at most, twenty percent. This is what I came for, my twenty percent.
Brave Angels will travel with me today. They guide me when I am unable to see. All is not lost, but there will be some rough seas. The light in our hearts will guide us to the One, if we are brave enough to truly see. -just follow the thread and see.
Craig Lefebvre
Making Real Love
I hold a rose in each hand for you both. This is in honor of the two souls who are able to embrace one another in love making. It doesn’t matter what each one looks like, either. No, it isn’t quite that simple. The real feeling lies within the heart. Two souls are brave when they are joined as one creative force. The universe offers both of you greater perspective of vision when these two aforementioned hearts join as one. In this, you will meet the creator force that lies within each of us.
Please know, that every soul has its own individuated spark. This is the starting point of all sentient life across the known Universe. Also, be aware that things here on Earth are changing rapidly. There are many more energy shifts occurring now. The tidal floes that are hitting your planet are immense, too. We will all soon be up to our necks with these changes. This is on purpose, as we have been too stagnant for too long. The Universe demands changes be made here in the now moment. We all must have presence of mind to pay attention so that we may learn from this process. These changes will hurt but they are a very powerful gift from creator. At the end of it all, it’s so you focus from the self to looking at everyone else. Go out into the world, and learn to change with it. -Mother Teresa
Channeled by Craig
In service to all and the One
DECLARATION OF HUMAN SOVEREIGNTY
DECLARATION OF HUMAN SOVEREIGNTY
It’s April 4th, a little before 5AM eastern time and I hear voices. Are they voices outside? No they are voices in my bedroom having a discussion. My spirit guides tell me, “there is someone here.” What? “There is someone here.” Well it’s not my ET’s, they never come this late. Then it happens, A Blue Avian steps forward into my minds eye. This is their second attempt at contact. The first time, the Pleiadians kicked them out. This time however they try to appeal to my ego telling my about my past life in Egypt. No, not having it. I don’t serve the Pharaoh or practice ritualized magik anymore. So here it is:
Dear Blue Avians,
I AM, in the now moment. You can not and will not subvert my time line and or agenda here. I work under the Galactic Federation of Light, and I AM in service to the Pleiadian Agenda. The humans here are at their own free will to climb the latter of spiritual evolution. Trying to undermine this time-line for your own gain will not be tolerated. -All are ONE in the Light.
Craig Lefebvre
The Vessel of ONE
Pod Cast Interview with "We believe, do you?"
Listen to my interview on the podcast “We believe, do you?” Episode 23
I talk with both Eric and Michelle about my abductions and ET experiences.
