J[o]an

An observer is a block that emits a redstone signal when the block or fluid it faces experiences a change. -Minecraft wiki

On June 4, 2021 something happened that had never happened before in my 18 years of blogging. It's easy to see on a graphic but at the time I couldn't tell what the heck was going on. My hits on Pinky blog jumped from 1000ish a month to over 15,000. June 4th in particular was a super spike in all time views.

There was no particular top post, which was what made it confusing. The whole blog was quite suddenly swarmed like it was being reconned. The country was obvious. The method was similar to lower level recons done by U.S. security, which I've been able to pin down in Google analytics a few times. Around that time I'd been in hospital for the second time in only a few months and was on my second heart monitor.

The heart problems died down with the traffic dying down. The entire experience began the week of a very specific publish. I went through high level doctors across multiple fields all telling me it was psychological even though enough was caught in bloodwork and on EKG to warrant admitting me both times. I've never gone through two event monitors in one year.

When I abruptly left the state for a month, it all stopped completely. After I came back it started up again, but I learned to control the intensity.

It all completely stopped again after an encounter this last February. After about a week or two it spiked back up and I was able to finally recognize it not just for tech attack, but remote. After the encounter I learned the difference and was then able to focus and protect myself. There have been several significant battles for my safety where I've been able to recognize others protecting me and waking me up.

Lately I've become stronger. The dreams have changed. I've experienced some lucid events talking to another, or others.

I feel like I've pivoted and refocused. 

I don't play with gematria very much. I know some people are really into it. They like seeing how words and numbers line up. It's kinda like telephone numbers, dial 1-800-eatfish or something, right. The letters are grouped by 3s around 10 digits, so there are loads of patterns you can make with a telephone number that both says a phrase and dials a real number. Anyway, my name matches a few cool things in the gematria lists. Click the screenshot if you want to see it.

It gets more interesting when you know my personal history. For instance, I've actually blogged about turquoise being my favorite rock. Some of the other matching words and phrases are pretty cool, some are hilariously stupid. It's not really as magical as some people think, it's just a coding system. There are many kinds of coding systems. People getting lost in days and days of checking gematria on every cliche in the news are probably missing grasping actual knowledge about what's really going on behind layers of twisted truths. Gematria only works when the words being spoken or written in the first place are meant to embed other meanings to be discovered with gematria. Kind of like lemon juice not showing up on paper. 

In case you feel like you'd like to start learning a little more about codebreaking, 👉 here is as good of a place to start as any.

In our natural matrix world we call earth, we all have specific synchronicity patterns unique to only us. The Big Brother matrix is trying to super sync all of us and blur that out so we don't remember things, but inside of us are memories of who we really are, why and how we came to be here, and what our purpose is. It can take years to arrive at our own answers, or we can suddenly 'wake up' and just see it all. Some people remember loads of stuff. I have more sporandically remembered things bit by bit through this life, sprinkled through my blog fleet. However, I've purposely stalled for years remembering certain things because I feel like I won't be able to focus as well on what I'm needed for here and now if I'm too conscious of not here and now (even though everything really is actually here and now). Does that make sense?

This is a sort of context example. Some of us go through surgeries, right. We are given a number of meds that each do very specific things. They don't necessarily take pain away so much as dissociate us from it and then make it impossible for our brains to map a linear process of what's going on with us during surgeries. Even if we are unconscious or 'asleep', our brains are still processing. I've awakened during several surgeries and remained conscious throughout a very nasty accident, so I know both those experiences and the experience afterward after the drugs wear off. Under sedation we can still respond to commands, we can move limbs and sometimes even talk, depending on the surgery or procedure. Some surgeries require complete immobility and lack of response to the point of constant monitoring in the event of death from anesthesia.

I'm extremely grateful that I cannot remember a shred of my knee surgery, and especially never want to remember a uterine ablation, which uses boiling liquid to poach (literally cook) the lining out of the uterus. I was told afterward I threw up a LOT during that one, and they had to medicate me very heavily, so my body was actually responsive to PAIN, I just can't remember it. But in the very back of my mind somewhere, I do remember something, enough to really dread remembering any part of that. And I feel that way because I do have very brief memories of seeing the surgery team talking me through it and my eyes rolled. During another surgery they had a little difficulty intubating me, possibly a student in training. Of course I had a little sore throat and a light stiff neck afterward, but as I was going to sleep one night within the first week out, I suddenly flashed on what it felt like to be intubated a little more roughly than usual, and I instantly connected that to the aftereffects.

Past lives are kind of like that. It's one thing to remember who you were, like I've shared here and there, but it's another thing to remember the anguish or embarrasment or sadness associated with that kind of flashback. I'm not detached from past lives at all, just like I'm not really detached from my surgery experiences. It's all there, it's just not all connected to consciousness.

There is something trying to come through this week that feels really rough, and I've been dreading this one for several years. I've even heard Me (higher self?) asking if I'm ready to remember yet, and after a little thought I pointedly replied NO. I chose not to remember yet on purpose. I have no idea why, no hint of what might be connected with it. I just know I'm not ready.

But I think I'm supposed to. I think it's important. I think when I do remember it's going to shake me up so hard that I might go through a pretty rough week.

In the meantime, I'm connecting other things. I don't think this is a memory so much as an archetype. I've been unconsciously lining up with 'who I am' in an amusing way. My hints to myself are kind of funny, like this is a game full of jokes but about something very serious. I seem to identify in my incognito state with some off the wall characters that somehow fit in with what I'm saying and doing.

Wanna preface this next part with in the second grade we played a game with words and we were testing on how well we did with the game. Say you have a beginning word and an ending word, and by changing one letter at a time, you can create a series of steps from the first word to the last word.

Play > pray > tray > tram.

Except the ones in the middle would be blank and it was up to us to figure out a logical process using real words to arrive to the last word. I don't know if they even bother doing this in schools any more.

Back to me with a more metaphorical way of working self identity layers. This is how our brains work hiding us from ourselves.

Janika > J[o]an [i]k<>a.

Ark-ham.

Do you want to play [a game]?

Some things are inherently known even if they are not realized. I don't usually recognize anyone even right in front of my face because of prosopagnosia, but for some reason I can glance across the internet and go straight to someone and never consciously realize what I recognized. I don't know how to describe it except to say I feel like I go about most of my convos backwards. I'm unstuck in time, my memory is faulty, I'm dissociated, and I continually have very interesting distractions going on from dreams to visions to memory jags to never feeling nailed down in real life. Sometimes the best I can do is come up from behind months later responding to something going on months earlier in a way that comes across so weird that people don't know what to do with me. This happens over and over. I'm used to it, others are not. But when I know someone, I know them. I may not be able to say how, but I feel it that same way I feel sunshine on my skin. I'm physically affected by intuition. I live in a mixed medium of overlapping worlds in several different time streams not all going at the same pace or direction. I've only ever gotten personal confirmation vs indirect once. The pivot I went through in all the worlds and times was like being snapped back into place like a magnet. Took me a few weeks to adjust to reorientation, especially with all the chaos in my personal life. I know that's weird to say since I spend so much time alone but I've written before about all the interruptions I get, sometimes to the point of people dying. It's gotten to where I'm loathe to dare even think "I feel happy today" to myself for the instantaneous phone calls coming in from all directions, where before there was complete silence. But something changed and now I'm learning to own what flies my way, take control of it

From litcharts.

Zaphod Beeblebrox is the two-headed president of the galaxy, and Ford Prefect’s distant cousin. Zaphod is purposefully suited for the role of president. This is because the job requires a person who is “controversial,” somebody who is both “infuriating” and “fascinating.” By the opening of the novel, Zaphod has already spent “two of his ten presidential years in prison for fraud.” Now, though, he’s excited to steal the Heart of Gold spaceship, which he uses to find the planet of Magrathea—an ancient planet nobody believes ever truly existed. When Zaphod’s girlfriend, Trillian, and Ford ask him why he wants to find Magrathea, he admits that he doesn’t know, explaining that before he became president, Yooden Vranx—the former president—visited him and told him that he should set out on this mission. However, Zaphod doesn’t know why Yooden wanted him to find Magrathea. This is because Zaphod went into his own brain and altered his memory so that the standard battery of psychological and neurological tests performed on incoming presidents wouldn’t reveal his plans to the government. As a result, though, he’s forced to blindly carry out some rather absurd jobs, though it’s worth noting that this doesn’t seem to bother him very much. Indeed, Zaphod is somebody who doesn’t mind “freewheel[ing],” somebody who is either very stupid or surprisingly clever.

My family history is literally connected to this.

Does it make sense now that I say I'm incognito and that I came back for this war? 

This timestamp is nice, for some who watch those.

I don't know how many people can trace their family heritage back to human history's biggest spin scam, but my ancestor was lawyer to the king and probably just as deep in the cabal as everyone else involved. 

I just changed the font. Those of you coming in on anything besides mobile are probably going oh thank god. Yeah, that was a ridiculous font, wasn't it? Sorry about that.

Anyway, yeah. That's quite a lot to take in once you start finding all that stuff. The interesting thing is that even though I never knew that before about the plans for the Empire, every keyword around all this has set me off for many years. I have almost instinctively done my best to step out into a wildly facepalm spotlight for the most absurd reasons because it felt important. And here we are, the most important secret in my family history, and now, as it turns out, I really am fighting in the info war and taking personal hits.

I've been rather obsessed with roses all my life. My dad grew really pretty yellow rose bushes around two houses I've lived in. It's my second favorite flower scent to lilacs, which is my mom's favorite flower. (Third favorite is morning glory.) I love rose tea and own rose colored glasses. I used to buy rose soaps and candles. One day I slid really hard into a wild rose bush during a car accident. My favorite flower myth is about a blue rose. My favorite rose color is champagne. 

from my yard, 2007

I started this several days ago. I haven't been sure how I feel about publishing it, but it feels important.

All my life I've felt driven to learn everything. The compulsion has been so over the top at times that it has affected my family life. When I began blogging for public I felt like it was really important to find someone, to be seen so I could be found.

I feel like that has finally happened, and I feel like I I've gotten some deep soul closure on something I couldn't remember that has been bothering me all my life.

My specialty is wording. I was born naturally gifted for everything grammar and syntax, language logic and structure. I've worked hard through autism, life threatening accident, and brain crippling poisoning to reach this point. I didn't recognize what I would be finding at first, but somehow I recognized the person. Somehow this connection was meant to happen, at least for me. I've always known I would reach this, where I have arrived, but I had no clues at all about what it would be and when and how. Just inside myself I've always known.

I don't know what comes next. I have more studying to do. I live a life of many interruptions so it may take more time, but I think I will be tightening up my focus this summer. I want to know more. Oftentimes I surf information constantly, but I need to go deeper on this one.

Tomorrow is a special day. This article dropped today.

St Joan of Arc: 15 quotes from her trial and interrogations

Jeanne D'arc artwork is extremely prolific for someone who lived in the 1400s.