One night, while sleeping at Marina Harbor I awoke and went out on the balcony. I saw the three largest raccoons I had even seen in my life. Raccoons are not that frequently seen in this part of town. They appeared to be at least five feet in height to me. There was one that was in front and two others that were following a few feet behind, walking side by side. They were walking in the parking lot toward my balcony. Although this type of formation of animals is familiar, I was still startled by their size and their approach. Apparently, they sensed I was looking at them and they bolted to their left, my right. There is a small group of bushes which separate the parking area from the zone where the fuel for the boats is stored. The same area I was in when I had my encounter with Muhammad. These bushes are not that large; I can tell there is not enough room for the immense raccoons to hide in. But once they got to the bushes they disappeared into them. That’s when I was really astonished. I knew ahead of time they would leave but they seemingly exited into another dimension.
I walked back into my apartment dumbfounded. Were those raccoons real or was I still dreaming? They looked real but I was still a bit confused as to their true nature. I know raccoons can get very large but to see them at that location was virtually unheard of. The way they disappeared also defied explanation. That I saw them did not seem to add much of an explanation as to what it meant. I decided to go back to sleep and perhaps getting some rest would help me figure this puzzle out completely.
I had a difficult time sleeping and was awake about an hour later. I went out on the balcony again. A smaller raccoon, much closer to normal size, was at the far end of the parking lot from my apartment. I saw it emerge from the awning covered spot where the park bench is located. I saw it move from my right to my left and then it disappeared behind some cars in the parking lot. I had witnessed the Raccoons with my naked eyes in time, times and half a time.
Now fast forward to the end of my tenancy at Marina Harbor. I had already cut my ties with my Dad who is a shape-shifter and like Pharaoh to my Moses. No one from shape-shifter Cleopatra’s clan had bothered to show up, but a lot of people were playing Charades with me in the parking lot basically telling me what enormous whores all these people are. Money and time were running out. Soon it is time for the Holy Days.
I go to Chabad for Kol Nidre. Before I go to services on the holiest day of the Jewish calendar I read the LA Times. Three blue whales had died around Los Angeles county. One was going to be dragged up to Point Mgu for a necropsy. It is difficult to describe the depth of my connection to the blue whales. Back in 1996, they were believed to be extinct. I told people we could pray them back. Their population has made a steady comeback. Knowing three had died in my vicinity gave me an anguish I cannot describe in words. People who know about “animal signs” might call this one the largest one ever. I decided that I want to see this animal, even though I might not be able to help much, because I am horrified that my suffering has resulted in what I would call three whale suicides to tell me, get the hell out of Los Angeles. The crows had replaced the other birds in the neighborhood for a few months already. People are obviously incapable of appreciating me. Blame me for having blind faith in people. The celebrity bitches cannot be bothered to help you, you should know by now. Leave at once.
Going to Point Mgu is a violation of every rule associated with observing Yom Kippur. I did not have much money and I was in more debt than I had ever accumulated before. I arrive at the gate and I am not allowed in because I am not on the list. How many times has the Messiah not been on the list? I had emailed ahead of time. The specialists never responded to my emails after I heard about the dead blue whales. They must think I am an insane idiot or something.
I go there anyway because those whales meant more to me than any of you that never figured out you have to do what I told you to do. Call it a type of demonstration or protest. Do not ignore my warnings or innocent people will die. But you avoided me anyway. You prefer the violators to me. Nicole, you thought the whales were the same as the worms in “Dune.” But the worms were alive when Paul transmuted the water of life in a movie. My whales died because you showed me you really never loved me or appreciated what I did for you in 1996, before that, or after that.
Abandoning me because you are arguing amongst yourselves, or are intimidated, or are too busy or for whatever reason is not acceptable to me, God, divine beings, or animals. God has not forsaken me. You are all a bunch of screw ups; you are all “Nervous Mindy.”
There is no way I will forget the blue whales, ever. Does anyone else have the courage to face me now and get real about accepting my demands? No, obviously not. I am surrounded by ignorant sacks of shit that only want cigarettes from me. They still think their king is their brother. They have no idea that they have made heroes out of people who obstructed justice but have made money selling clothing with their name on it. I am just like anyone else here to them. I have been hospitalized for a month and a half and no one has even bothered to ask if they can visit. That speaks volumes.
Get ready folks; I am so easy to find and yet you have lost me. The dark age is about to begin.
Perhaps you should get Radha (perfect little girl), Laxmi (one head, had two bodies), and Durga (one body, two faces) together. Beg them to stop Kalki. Even though Jesus Krishna, who is the voice of Kalki and commanded Kalki’s finger in the sky, says you will fail, try this experiment. What do you have to lose, except perhaps the Cosmos? The three little girls are perfect. They never did anything wrong, and besides, they are just little girl goddesses. You can’t really blame them for anything, right? Men will line up and pay good money for the opportunity to have sex with them. It’s not like any rich girls would pay Jesus Krishna to have sex with them. They just wanted his semen so they could have their own Jesus Baby without him.
It’s too dangerous to be around Jesus Krishna anyway. The world abuses him and he has become a monster and a cartoon; he is unstable. There are so many more men who are suitable. If he is lonely, that can only be his fault, right? Who cares if he lost all his money chasing after selfish bitches? There must be someone out there for him, right? He should get some help.
Maybe Jesus Krishna is the fickle one, women are not fickle, RIGHT? Women know what they are doing, RIGHT? Women should be running this world, RIGHT? Especially THE LESBIANS, RIGHT?