I’m writing messages and getting answers in the street, like usual.
My social media activity seems to be a meeting point for numerous interested parties and I start feeling like I have friends all over the place; wolves, lions, snakes, as well as sheep, kids, and children.
This is good.
There must be a defined split of who could even tolerate egg and semen theft for the elite.
I realize that Guruji is like me; except because he’s a man he has thousands of stolen children it’s that much easier to steal the creative life force from men.
When I start to serve Our Lady, my internet access is very intermittent so I start to write emails to myself on my phone about things I’m thinking.
I get responses directly to these emails from people in Lourdes; usually in the restaurant or in the sanctuary itself.
This MUST prove American fielding of my emails down to trusted hospitality members who then share information with others requesting them to bully me and “say things”… etc.
The sedating-rapists have been warned long in advance I’m arriving.
My room in Lourdes hospitality accommodation is 108.
Everywhere I go, people are whispering and pointing.
I know they’re mostly being lied to about what makes me so famous - they’re being told it’s because I disagree with transvestites working in the baths, part of an email to myself.
I expect only all the men and a few women know the truth that it is to do with the sedating-rape epidemic - the Abomination of Desolation in the holy place - so when women come up to me and respond to things I have said online, I know they’re not getting the full story because it would END IMMEDIATELY if it wasn’t just one lone voice in the wilderness, me.
They quickly tell the people who DO know that I’m here.
My location is pinpointed, as usual, just like it was with the porn-gangs of Spain.
Jonathan pops up - I had no idea Jonathan was involved but I always thought he was a porn addict from the way he spoke to me.
And then I start to remember weird things with Jonathan from right back when I met him in 2014 and ongoing through to 2021 when I lived there.
They tell a woman, Alletru she calls herself, I’m there and to go sit next to me at dinner - in a completely empty restaurant.
I look at her. I recognize her.
She’s doing her week’s stage, second year, so I work with her in the baths.
She speaks, and laughs. She sounds EXACTLY LIKE Sandra Diaz.
I look at her more closely.
She looks like Sandra Diaz (Benedetta) also, enough to be her/his mum.
I remember being sedated/drugged with Sandra (she did this all the time, a little bit like Zoe, a relaxant to make you confident, and then she overdid it a few times, this instance I remember being really under consciousness, like deep down, far away, and annoyed too) and her introducing me to her: everyone thinks she’s my mum we’re so alike, she says. I think we were in the sanctuary outside the restaurant one evening after dinner.
I realize Alletru is a phoney name and not a very good one either.
She is all over me until I make it very clear I know who she is and then she backs off a bit. After I ask her if she has a child called Benedetta, I don’t see her again.
Another woman sits with us, a Venezuelan living near Saint Jean de Luz (remember Sandra recommending I go there and visit, which I did, and I believe I was sedated-and-raped there).
The Venezuelan seems angry with me. I wonder if she’s a link in the supply chain and if they’re feeding vulnerable women into sedating-rape-porn traps, and more.
These two sit with an elderly friend of mine who is vulnerable, and I don’t like it - remember Benedetta was grooming the French pensioners in the choir in 2023/24 the last time I saw her/him.
