Tag Archives: Murder

Doppelganger Dupe: A Halloween Tale . by Alice B. Clagett

Written and published on 8 October 2019

Dear Ones,

Here is a truly odd astral story, and somehow fitting for the approaching Halloween season: Crime families, as the astral story goes, are hiring actors and actresses and training them to mimic their marks so as to walk into the roles of marks that have been ‘snuffed out’.

In the realm of the very weird, these ‘movie doubles’ or ‘mimics’ are purportedly taking over the jobs of corporate heads ‘offed’ by drone warfare and people important to the government of countries.

Along those lines I heard an astral story a few years back that a president of a country was invited to a secluded resort at the beginning of his term in office. In the evening he was offered a liqueur with a lethal drug in it. His lifeless body, roped onto an oak schoolteacher’s chair, was secluded in an underground storm drain that lay beneath a busy city street. The next day his look-alike stepped into his presidential role, and no one was the wiser.

Astral stories like this no doubt are pure stuff and nonsense. But somehow that story struck a nerve in me. Had I had the guts back then, I might have gone spelunking in the underground storm drains of the Greater Los Angeles area, just to make sure nothing like that had happened in our beautiful city. Lord know, I opined, what we might find in the storm drains of Los Angeles.  However, then as today, I lacked the guts for that kind of spooky adventure.

On the good side, I am pretty sure that the highest levels of corporate and government security are right up there in terms of knowing whether their important people are true blue or imposters. No doubt their security techniques are first rate.

Were the astral rumors of ‘doppelganger dupes’ to have any basis in fact, the greatest trouble might be had by those of us who are not up to speed on mimicry, as may be the case with potential marks for confidence games and elder scams.

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

For more on this topic, search my blog for the term: mimicry

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Except where otherwise noted, “Awakening with Planet Earth” by Alice B. Clagett … https://awakeningwithplanetearth.com … is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License (CC BY-SA 4.0) … https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/ ..

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law enforcement, crime, confidence games, crime families, drug war, drone warfare, corporations, government, doppelganger, Los Angeles, mimicry, elder scams, murder,

Astral Confessions of Murder: The Catholic Sacrament of Penance . by Alice B. Clagett

Published on 25 September 2019

Image: “Confession – The Cathedral of Bern,” by Vodnik, January 2007, from Wikimedia … This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported, 2.5 Generic, 2.0 Generic and 1.0 Generic license ..

Image: “Confession – The Cathedral of Bern,” by Vodnik, January 2007, from Wikimedia … This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported2.5 Generic2.0 Generic and 1.0 Generic license ..

Dear Ones,

I was in a Catholic church some while ago and a murderer confessed to me on the astral plane during Mass. When this happens I am terrified, as I have a natural repugnance to violence; yet this world is full of violence and murder; I run across it on the astral plane all the time.

To this day I remember, as if it happened but a moment ago, the shock I felt when a person boasted on the astral plane: I have killed 700 people!

I was set down here on Earth to learn how to hold the extremes of the Duality play with a neutral mind. Yet since I started to learn this technique two decades ago, I had had nearly no success at it.

Instead, when a murderer confessed to me on the astral plane, I would feel repugnance, and the need to bring the murderer to justice, so that people in future might be protected from the murderer.

Justice in the physical realm cannot be accomplished through clair insight. For murder to be punished, physical proof must be found, and the murderer brought to court; then a judgment must be rendered that sequesters the murderer from the general population, for their protection.

Lacking this means of physical proof, over the decades I have been weighed down by confession after murderous confession, on the astral plane. First, there was the weight of my knowing about the murder, and my natural repugnance regarding such acts. The victim being beyond help, I also lacked the means to lift up into the Light the spirit of the unrepentant murderer.

Second, a great number of murderers knew, on a subconscious or conscious level, that I knew they had committed murder, and, I felt might try the same with me so as to prevent me from telling other people about their past.

With these two concerns: My upset over life on Earth, and my concern for my own safety, I early on began looking round for ways to ease the emotional affect. In recent times I started to use an inexpert variant of the rites of the Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation … Link: “Sacrament of Penance,” in Wikipedia … https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sacrament_of_Penance ..

That day at Mass, as the man confessed on the astral plane to a murder, I began my simple variant of the rites. Then a Deacon from across the room interrupted and said he and the other men in the room would deal with the issue of confession of murder during Mass from then on. I was greatly relieved to hear him assume this responsibility, and amazed at the tools he had at hand.

The Deacon said, in a neutral voice, on the astral plane: You murdered a person?

The man said, on the astral plane: Yes.

The Deacon said, in a neutral voice: Anything else?

The penitent said that was all.

The Deacon said … if I recall correctly: Are you sorry?

The penitent whispered: Yes.

The Deacon said: Would you like to be absolved?

The penitent said: Yes.

The Deacon then offered a simple way to expiate the penitent’s sin; perhaps a prayer he might recite, or a thought of self-renewal that he might carry in his heart.

Then the Deacon said this, or words to this effect: I absolve you of your sins in the name of Christ Jesus Our Lord. May your sins be forgiven, your future life blameless, and on the day of your passing may He meet you with an open heart, and welcome you into his home in Heaven.

When this astral exchange happened, a great weight was lifted from my heart. It was as if I had been carrying the sins of many murderers in my heart for several decades, for lack of a way to absolve these people of their sins. And now the path before me was clear.

Simultaneously, the astral air in the church where the Mass was taking place became redolent with Light. It was as if Christ were embracing the congregation with compassionate love; as if His heart lit up the hearts of the celebrants.

The man who had been penitent was also transformed, and this transformation extended even to the physical level, as his shoulder muscles relaxed and his breathing became more relaxed.

Because of the transformative experience at Mass a while ago, I have come to appreciate the rites of the Catholic Sacrament of Penance and Reconciliation very much indeed.

I ask those of my fellow Lightworkers who are Catholic to forgive my inexpert attempt at relaying the rites.

Tricky as it may be to express ourselves as intuitives in a pastor-parishioner relationship, my idea is it might be helpful to seek instruction from our parish priest regarding the weight of our knowledge of the sins of the world.

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

I have added this blog to … Link: “On Getting to the Truth of Astral Stories,” by Alice B. Clagett, published on 6 July 2016; revised on 25 September 2019 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-5Ow ..

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astral stories, serial killing, imprisonment, threat energy, murder, confession, Catholicism, sacrament of penance, sacraments, sacrament of penance and reconciliation, neutral mind, justice, law,

Ice . a poem by Alice Clagett

Written on 19 September 2019; published on 21 September 2019

  • VIDEO BY ALICE
  • SUMMARY OF THE VIDEO
    • Ice, a poem by Alice B. Clagett, Soundtrack and Words

Dear Ones,

Here is a new poem for you …

VIDEO BY ALICE

SUMMARY OF THE VIDEO

Dear Ones, It’s Alice. I Am of the Stars.

This is a poem called “Ice” …

. . . . .

ICE
A Poem by Alice B. Clagett
Soundtrack and Words
19 September 2019

This is a fictional, narrative poem.

 

I said, I’m a charity trust trustee
Ought I stay on the board or leave it?

He said, Why live with clutter?

Out of the corner of my eye
I looked round at his office

No papers, no books, no cabinets
Just a laptop and a printer

Ok, I said. I agree

As he handed me the paper to sign
his eyes cut like a razor

.   .  .

He said, Here are your POA forms
One is for power over health
the other for just about everything else

If you want
my wife and I
can provide that service for you

His eyes looked clear, like river ice
early on, in the winter

Ok, I said. I will sign them

.   .  .

His eyes turned blue like the midday sky
as he handed me the papers

Here’s a form, he said,
that I always advise
it’s important for your children

After 3 days they pull the plug
it saves them from commotion

I said, I don’t like that form at all!
Look at me – I’m the picture of perfect health
and then, I have no children

His eyes glinted like sun on snow
He said, My advice is to sign it.

.   .  .

He opened the door to show me out
Then stopped for half a second

My wife, he said, does health massage

I said, May I have her number?

.   .  .
.   .  .

She said, I can’t see you at my job
They’re fixing the floor in my office.
I’ll do the massage at our home instead

Her voice was like raspberry jam on toast
Why did that concern me?

What day? I asked
with a frog in my throat

She said, I’ll get back to you

Two weeks later, I found the door
of the place where she and her husband lived

Here, she said, is my new massage table

Her hand touched the cloth
in the way that a priest
offers the Sunday Eucharist

.   .  .

I don’t disrobe for massage, I said
I hope you can work around that

Her lips froze
Her eyes assessed
Her hip touched the edge of the table gently

Would that be ok? I asked

Ok, she said. Lie down here.

.   .  .

This is a new technique, she said
You’ll be the first to try it
and she explained cerebrally
the ins and outs of the method

Then out of the blue, it seemed to me,
she said, Do you know Catherine?
I have known her for years, she said
and I really like her

My eyes froze, then relaxed. O yeah.
It’s Catherine that’s working back in town
next door to this young lady

A hunch formed in the back of my mind
Then disappeared
before I could see
more than a claw
or the look on the face of it

.   .  .

A man in a hat
that concealed his face
walked in from the yard

As he cleared the lintel I saw
the door was still half open

His shadow lay
like a long black line
on the floor at the foot of the table

Who’s that? I asked

O, she said,
He’s just a gawker from next door
You don’t mind, do you?

I said, Yes I do!

The stranger stopped inching towards us

He turned round in the cool dim room
felt for the door with his left hand
and stumbled into the sunlight

.   .  .

My blood turned hot.
My hands got cold
My heart got a speeding ticket

I sat up.

My gosh, I have to go!
Here, let me pay you

. . . . .

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

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poetry, poems by Alice, Wild West, law, law enforcement, 2u3d, murder, confidence games, Alice’s perilous tales,

A Ghost Story: Rose of Rose Valley . by Alice B. Clagett

Filmed on 28 August 2019; published on 29 August 2019

  • VIDEO BY ALICE
  • SUMMARY OF THE VIDEO
    • Photos by Alice

Dear Ones,

Here is a sad ghost story for you …

VIDEO BY ALICE

SUMMARY OF THE VIDEO

Hello, Dear Ones, It’s Alice. I Am of the Stars.

Here I am in Rose Valley. And I was listening to another ghost story while I was walking … a sad ghost story. And it goes like this …

There was a lady named Rose. Her mother was pretty ill, and she was helping take care of her mother during her final illness. She found out one Christmas that her sisters and her uncle had removed a seventh of the money from her father’s trust fund that was destined to go to her and to her sisters and brother. They removed it that December, and she wondered what to do.

So she talked to the lawyers, and the lawyers said: Just ask them to give the money back. About that time was time for her to return to her own home, out here in Rose Valley, and do the work she had to do at home. And while she was there, her mother became very ill. And so she sent back, as soon as she could, to her mother’s house, and arrived just in time, because her mother passed on that very day. That was the lucky thing. She loved her mother so much!

Then after the funeral, she brought up the issue of the missing money to her sisters. She said it would be best to put it back, before an accounting was made, so that everything could be legal. And her sisters became very angry.

But when the accounting was made, and the family got together, they handed the money back to the father’s trust account. And then came the time when a voting had to occur on the family business. But because of the removal of the money, Rose felt she could not support the family business; and by her veto, the family business was disbanded. And that made her sisters and their spouses very, very angry.

Still, over the years, she thought there might come a time when they would be a family again.

One time at Thanksgiving, one of her sisters invited her to join the family for Thanksgiving dinner, which involved going quite some way from Rose Valley, I understand, and going to that sister’s area. And there she stayed with her uncle, because her sisters had not agreed to let her stay with them.

Her uncle had a little money, and he was an unmarried man. While she was there, he mentioned that he had disinherited her. He didn’t give a reason; he just said that.

The next day was Thanksgiving, so she went over to her sister’s place, with her uncle. And all of the sisters and brothers and husbands and wives and children were there. There was a lively conversation at the table, but she was not included in it.

The food was very good, very good indeed. And everyone had their own goblet of water, too, beside their plate. At the end of the dinner, people were talking and laughing and having a good time together, and ignoring her … I think ‘social snub’ they call it.

She lifted up the glass of water by her plate, getting ready to drink some. And suddenly, all the conversation at the table stopped. Everyone took a deep breath in … and held their breath! So she looked at the water in her hand, and she waited a minute. No one breathed. No one started talking.

So she took the water out to the kitchen and poured it out.

A day or so later the family was to meet at her uncle’s place, and she was going to have dinner for them. It was snowing. She got the dinner ready. And an hour before the dinner, her sister called and said that they decided not to come after all.

The next day she needed to go back home. So she left for home again, which was quite at some distance. And she called her uncle up, on the way, and asked him how he liked the dinner she had prepared. And he said: To tell the truth, he had thrown it out.

Some years went by. Rose wondered if … if there might have been poison in that glass of water … and if there might, why might it have been there? What might have been the cause for that? And she thought: People who would poison … poison a sister … must be used to killing. They must have done it before.

And the horrible thought came to her, that her mother, that she loved so much, might have been killed by her sisters and her uncle so that they could get her money. Worse yet, she wondered: Would that same fate befall her, one day?

And so she lived her life here in this beautiful valley … pretty much a loner … happy with the birds and the flowers and the wild animals … glad that the Sun rejoiced in her presence, as she rejoiced in its.

And that is the story of Rose and Rose Valley, to the end of her days on Earth.

Photos by Alice

Image: “On the Way to Rose Valley, California,” by Alice B. Clagett, 28 August 2019, CC BY-SA 4.0

Image: “On the Way to Rose Valley, California,” by Alice B. Clagett, 28 August 2019, CC BY-SA 4.0

Image: “Rose Valley, California 1,” by Alice B. Clagett, 28 August 2019, CC BY-SA 4.0

Image: “Rose Valley, California 1,” by Alice B. Clagett, 28 August 2019, CC BY-SA 4.0

Image: “Rose Valley, California 2: Blue Damselfly,” by Alice B. Clagett, 28 August 2019, CC BY-SA 4.0

Image: “Rose Valley, California 2: Blue Damselfly,” by Alice B. Clagett, 28 August 2019, CC BY-SA 4.0

Image: “Rose Valley, California 3,” by Alice B. Clagett, 28 August 2019, CC BY-SA 4.0

Image: “Rose Valley, California 3,” by Alice B. Clagett, 28 August 2019, CC BY-SA 4.0

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

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ghosts, ghost stories, Rose Valley, death, murder, stories, stories by Alice, greed, fear, photos by Alice,

Repeating Astral Phrases as a Feature of Our Commensal and Adventitious Microorganisms . by Alice B. Clagett

Published on 28 July 2019

  • My life has no quality
  • You have no personality
  • You are one big ego
  • Astral stories about people stealing other people’s keys and walking into their houses, or hacking people’s credit cards and ripping off their money, or taking their lives and their money
  • Hidden microphones and cameras: Total lack of privacy
  • You are a homosexual
  • Are you a homosexual?
  • Budie holers
  • V— D—
  • The viruses

Dear Ones,

I added the below to this blog today …

Link: “Hellworld Scenes and Amazing Astral Stories,” by Alice B. Clagett, published on 24 May 2016 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-5j0 ..

Since it is so different from the rest of the blog, and is just a postscript there, I thought it might be best to break it out as a separate blog here, with slight changes from the original. It has to do with some repeating subconscious phrases I had noticed back in 2016 …

I came across an understanding that some of the repeating subconscious phrases I used to hear on the astral plane may attach to life cycle activities of or cultural difference among our commensal organisms.

For instance, It seems the repeating phrase “My life has no quality” has to do with lowered blood sugar; it may be a lament of the yeast cells that inhabit the human body.

The repeating phrase “You have no personality” is apparently a comment of the Martian bacterial colonists of the human colon; it may have to do with prejudice against the yeasts, which are quite a bit more simplistic in their language and thought forms than are the Martians.

The repeating phrase “You are one big ego” is apparently a comment of the Martian bacterial colonists of the human colon; it may have to do with Higher Mental Body functions, as our Martians have a greater influence on the Lower Mental Body, where they live, than on the Higher Mental Body.

Astral stories about people stealing other people’s keys and walking into their houses, or hacking people’s credit cards and ripping off their money, or taking their lives and their money may have to do with our body cells and the Martian bacterial colonists of the human colon recoiling in horror at the attacks of viruses.

Hidden microphones and cameras: Total lack of privacy: This may have to do adjustment by our Martian bacterial colonists of the colon to the awakening of human telepathy globally. The Elder Race, the Martians, are far more telepathic than we, and in fact it was through their expertise in DNA manipulation that most of Earth species came into being. More about this in my blog category: Mars – Martians – the Elder Race

Not mentioned in the above-referenced blog are these repeating subconscious phrases:

“You are a homosexual” … Yeasts say this over and over again, and very enthusiastically, when there is plenty of sugar circulating in the blood, so that they can joyfully accomplish assexual reproduction

“Are you a homosexual?” is used by the yeast inhabitants of our bodies when greeting newly arriving yeasts. As I understand it, they are asking whether the newcomers are the sort that can have sexual reproduction with them, or whether they are they will be reproducing asexually.

“Budie holers” is a repeating, derogatory phrase used by the Martian bacterial colonists of the colon with regard to the HIV virus

“V— D—“ was a repeating, derogatory phrase used by the Martian bacterial colonists of the colon with regard to the viruses that attempt to cause sickness in their human ‘space stations’. They have since moved along to other phrases with the same meaning, but I cannot recall what those are right now.

The viruses talk in a sharp, sinister whisper full of intent to rip off the lives of the people in which they find themselves. They are villainous little dudes; which leads me to think that listening to pure musical harmonics might cause them to fare less well inside us.

If you hear repeating phrases on the astral plane, and know a little about microbiology, I encourage you to to match the phrases you hear to the wants and needs and cultural expectatoins of some of our commensal organisms as well.

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

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Except where otherwise noted, “Awakening with Planet Earth” by Alice B. Clagett … https://awakeningwithplanetearth.com … is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License (CC BY-SA 4.0) … https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/ ..

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ascension, ego, you have no personality, you are one big ego, my life has no quality, murder, identity theft, astral realm, astral plane, private property, freedom of speech, viruses, yeasts, bacteria, Martians, microorganisms, body cells, Lower Mental Body, Higher Mental Body, Elder Race, V— D—, budie holers, HIV virus, you are a homosexual, are you a homosexual,

Collapse of the City Dome of Los Angeles, 24 May 2019 . by Alice B. Clagett

Written on 24 May 2019; published on 7 July 2019

Dear Ones,

On 24 May 2019 I stopped by the locus in West Los Angeles that had been the epicenter of the Los Angeles City Dome …

Link: “Los Angeles Astral City Dome Blog Series,” by Alice B. Clagett, published on 1 August 2016 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-5Y6 ..

Walking round the perimeter, without entering the locale, I found that the Los Angeles city dome had completely collapsed and the locale had cleared. There was no longer a deep, rankling, Hellworld sense of dead and decaying bodies there. Instead there was a neutral, Purgatory world energy, more or less typical, I feel, of life on Earth till now.

Congratulations to all the beings involved in this clearing, which was a difficult one, and involved great peril to all involved. Well done! I am very grateful to each of you!

I did some inquiry on the psychic plane while on the perimeter of the locale, and heard this, which amazed me greatly …

The clair story was that a young boy, purportedly the first true love of a man held in high esteem, and who worked and lived at that locale, had been infected with an incurable STD by him, and had died in the early 2000s. The cause of death had been covered up through offering the parents hush money for the medical care of the child during his final illness.

According to the astral story, the child’s male lover could not stand to be parted from him in death, and so had arranged for the corpse illegally to be buried on the grounds where he worked and lived.

Somehow this simple and understandable act set the stage for a horrific curse, the curse I termed, through psychic intel, ‘blood on the lintel’ …

Link: “On Human Hybrids and Astral Velociraptors,” by Alice B. Clagett, published on 25 November 2016 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-6rs … Search the heading: On Heeding a Warding Spell: Video by Alice 

On the psychic plane, in the ensuing years, somehow similar Soul wounding of other people accreted to the cursed spot, resulting in issues of child trafficking, child sexual harassment, and child murder.

Rumors wafted through the astral airs, to the effect that the man in question, a man gifted in many ways, and held in high esteem by many in the City of the Angels, was some years later ‘caught in the act’ of child molestation, and doomed by local law to wear a house arrest bracelet on his ankle on the weekends.

That he had cut off his own foot in order to escape this edict, which, in his mind, prevented him from experiencing true love through use of foreign objects with prepurbertal children, both boys and girls. That he then claimed the loss of the limb to be due to diabetes, and then in other astral stories, due to an auto accident.

That various nefarious enterprises, to do with murder of rich, single women, soaking up of their estates, and ‘cooking of the books’ were undertaking in order to fund further child trafficking. That a local coroner had been bribed to cover up wrongful deaths. That the supervisors of an adjacent prekindergarten and elementary school were bribed to offer victims for child abuse. That the megabucks of the entertainment industry … and variously, of the drug industry … were somehow involved.

According to the astral stories, the man in question retired and moved, in recent years, to another locale; and the curse was cleared by people at the locale finding that the grave was illegal, and presumably, moving the body of the dead child to a sacred burial space.

At least, I hope this was the case. If instead, the body of the child was moved to another illegal burial space, for example, the current locale of the man who was his lover, then simply the curse has been relocated to that place.

For those who might be involved … if this astral story bears any relationship to physical reality … intuition tells me to offer this advice: I feel it would be best to move the body of the child to sacred ground, so as to ‘lay’ the curse of ‘blood on the lintel’ and of ‘runes of black and red’. (For more on these runes, search my blog for the words: runes black red )

Then this or a similar blessing may be employed to dispel the curse at the locales where the child’s body has rested …

Link: “The Dwelling Curse and An ‘Answering Symbol’ ,” by Alice B. Clagett, published on 3 November 2016 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-6lD ..

For the curse of runes of black and red, purportedly also at play in this astral instance, there is an Activation of Light which may be used to clear the Soul fields of the people embroiled in the curse and in the lack of disclosure …

Link: “Red and Black Runes in the Soul Field,” by Alice B. Clagett, published on 8 May 2015; revised 27 October 2018 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-6R5 ..

In addition, standard Christian prayers for the Souls of the dearly beloved who have departed this Earthly realm would be very helpful. Here is one such prayer, in the Christian tradition  …

Link: “Traditional Prayer for the Dead,” by Saint Michael Catholic Church …   https://stmichaellivermore.com/blog/traditional-prayer-dead ..

Speaking through psychic intel only, I have the sense that other bodies are buried illicitly at the above-mentioned place and at another locale at some distance north and east of there, but that there is no curse attached to that. Apparently, it is fine for those bodies to be there. Most likely, this may be the case here and there, all over Earth.

In the days of my maternal grandparents, who were farmers, the issue of death and sacred ground was addressed by setting aside a portion of the land as a family graveyard. This land, then, became a sacred burial space. Most likely, in days to come, as more people return to the land and to subsistence living, that practice will be reinstituted.

I feel this is a good practice, set by circumstances of subsistence living in locales remote from hubs of commerce. In places where our human population is very congested, as in the great cities of Earth, I can see why laws have been set in place for burial of our loved ones in community graveyards.

Speaking from a psychic vantage point, I feel that interment in sacred land, or else cremation and dispersal of ashes along with the blessing of prayers for the departed, is very important as a means of helping the departed attain rest and peace in the Afterlife.

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

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FOR MORE INFORMATION

Link: “Update on the City Dome of Los Angeles, 31 July 2016” by Alice B. Clagett, published on 1 August 2016 … http://wp.me/p2Rkym-5XV ..

Search my blog for the term: black widower  … and for the category: child trafficking

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Except where otherwise noted, this work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
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city domes, cities of Earth, Los Angeles, child trafficking, curses, lintel, runes of black and red, death, burial, pederasty, law enforcement, disclosure, afterlife, prayers for the Dead, cremation, child molestation, murder, house arrest bracelet, black widower, embezzlement, child education, wecan, wiccan,

Astral Story about Dylan Redwine’s Disappearance in Colorado . by Alice B. Clagett

Published on 7 June 2019

Dear Ones,

Here is an example that I recently added to an older blog whose link I have referenced at the end of the astral tale. As a clair person, I have a concern that justice be aptly meted out, but I recognize that clair intel is often plucked without supporting evidence from the astral airs.

Thus I pen my reminiscences of the astral realm with a wry question mark in my mind: Could any of this possibly be true? Were it to be true, would there not be facts that might be unearthed to support it? … for I, the not so eager clairsentient, have no facts to offer, only the oddest of astral rumors …

Once more I shall take pen in hand to tell my readers of a wild astral story that went round regarding the 2012 murder of Dylan Redwine, near Vallecito Lake, Colorado. The astral story had to do with a woman who knew the boy in early childhood, perhaps as a babysitter or friend of the family, and was thought to have captured and tortured him over the course of a month.

On the physical plane, I heard an elderly woman friend in Pine River Senior Center, Bayfield, Colorado (where I would eat lunch and play dominoes a time or two weekly, during my summer visits to Durango during the years 2013 through 2015) once mention that she had seen the child waiting at a bus stop … I thought then that she might have meant a bus stop in Vallecito Lake … on the day of his disappearance. After hearing that story (and if she correctly recognized the child that day), then it could be, I thought, that a family friend, or person he knew, saw him at the bus stop, stopped, and offered to drive him to his destination that day, and that he never got there. This is the only physical fact I have about the event, and that, I recognize, is hearsay. Now, back to the wild astral story …

When the woman took the boy to her bedroom, in her home in a housing development near Vallecito Lake, according to the astral story, her husband wounded the boy’s lower spine in such a way as to prevent locomotion; this act also would have caused incontinence, and paralysis and lack of sensation in the lower body and legs.

Then, over the course of an excruciating month, the astral airs were full of accounts of torture sessions, in which the actors wore costumes that concealed their identities. An actor who made a one-time appearance in a subsidiary role was said to be the illegitimate son of a local law enforcement officer; and that was purported to be the reason why the sessions were not interrupted, nor the perpetrators apprehended.

Another notion put forth on the ‘astral airs’ had to do with the torture sessions being backed by wealthy local people, who conveyed the sessions through closed circuit TV to tourists at a ritzy hotel in Durango. Thus, according to the ‘astral airs’, local people were felt to be ‘in cahoots’ with the crime; or possibly feeling, in a subconscious context, deeply guilty about it.

In the astral story, the kidnapping woman, in her subconscious mind, thought that the leader of her spiritual group was instructing her to torture the child. She and her husband, according to the astral story, called the leader and his wife, and agreed to convey him to their house for one of the torture sessions, in which the leader’s wife cut off the boy’s eyelids with a manicure scissors ‘so that they would be pretty, ‘cornflower eyes’, like her own’ …

Some time thereafter, according to the hypothetical story, the husband of the kidnapping woman took the boy’s life, in his own eyes justifying this as an act of euthanasia, to end the possibility of further torture …

The people in Vallecito, Colorado, were by all accounts, both astral and according to the news media, very upset about the long unsolved mystery of the disappearance of Dylan Redwine, and their upset may have been the incubating impetus for this astral story; it could be that everyone in Vallecito and the neighboring towns of Bayfield and Durango, Colorado, longed, during the years following the abduction or disappearance, for a simple explanation, and an end to the long agony of suspense and not knowing.

The above is a slightly altered excerpt of a recent addition to this blog … Link: “Groups and Acting Out During This Transitional Ascension Phase,” by Alice B. Clagett, filmed on 7 March 2016; published on 14 March 2016; transcribed on 5 June 2016 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-d2B ..

Here is more on the topic, from a clair perspective …

Link: “Amateur Sleuth: The Dylan Redwine Murder Mystery,” by Alice B. Clagett, published on 20 June 2017 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-7nr ..

Link: “The Voice of a Child,” a poem by Alice B. Clagett, published on 3 March 2018 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-8rg ..

Link: “Alice’s Perilous Tales: The Nagging Wife,” by Alice B. Clagett, 31 July 2015, https://wp.me/p2Rkym-5QZ ..

Link: “On Torture, and Being Tortured,” by Alice B. Clagett, published on 2 February 2018 … https://wp.me/p2Rkym-8hH ..

In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars

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Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License

Except where otherwise noted, “Awakening with Planet Earth” by Alice B. Clagett … https://awakeningwithplanetearth.com … is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License (CC BY-SA 4.0) … https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/ ..

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law enforcement, murder, astral stories, Dylan Redwine, Wild West,