Before I post the evidence that Mick Jagger, aka Satan, has been watching me since before I was born, I want to share this. A second excerpt on glamour magic veiling memories (read PSA: Memory Glamours Are Real). I would never forget Lewis Dvorkin, I didn’t. Mick Jagger glamoured me, emphasis on the part where I was his girlfriend. Something he worked hard to achieve from sixth grade, when I wrote him off as gay after mutual feelings of love, because he wore a ponytail. Leading him to ditch the hairstyle all together. Furthermore, Sara Tam’s still under his spell, incredulous that she was there the night Lewis took my virginity (read Mick Jagger Altered My Reality).
On one hand I feel terrible for her, to be left in some altered, eldritch reality. I was traumatized and spooked for days upon recovery. Twenty years living alongside everyone else in a parallel universe, looking crazy. How is it possible? What was real? I cried every single day. My being was violated.
On the other hand I’ve never been more grateful. If it weren’t for Sara no one would believe me! This woman is a blessing, playing a pivotal role in the revelations we’re living. I hope she remembers one day. I can’t believe I was Rip Van Wrinkled! Proving all the parables, not just the Bible, matter (read RHOSLC Over Touring With The Rolling Stones). They’ve survived centuries for a reason. There are a lot of truths I would’ve never figured out without fairytales.Via: Kindle
