swiss miss returns - enthused enamoured evasive

8/8/2019 Swiss Miss Returns - Enthused Enamoured Evasive

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S S S W W W I I I S S S S S S M M M I I I S S S S S S R R R E E E T T T U U U R R R N N N S S S E E E nnnt t t hhhuuussseeed d d ,,, E E E nnnaaammmooorrreeed d d ooorrr E E E vvvaaasssi i i vvveee

U U U p p pooonnn M M M yyy R R Reeet t t uuurrrnnn t t t ooo S S S wwwi i i t t t z z z eeerrrl l l aaannnd d d ... ... ...

A A Annngggeeel l l i i i nnnaaa L L Laaa z z z aaarrr M M M uuussseeesss ... ... ... This has been a pattern, I have seen. Most are agents who I deal with at this level, I have found. Theyve lost their

humanity, lost their virtue, lost their ability to connect personally. They are robotic and virtually have no soul;

theyre of another race, another breed, another creed, ever doing another deed They turned into something

else, and are no more.

Especially, the Swiss: they are a programmed race, Ive concluded. It is the country of the illuminati, there is no

doubt in my mind. Superficial eyes cannot see this. But it is so Their people resemble more robots than actual

people amidst all the nationalities of the earth. It is their country of choice. Where they harbour their wealth and

keep it away from prying eyes so as to organize themselves compactly and succinctly in a controlled state with a

pre-programmed agenda. One that is theirs, and theirs for all the world. It is a police state: where they operate

globally from this very pretty central hub. This is where the global private banking headquarters finds its abode. It

is where all the international institutions are based, entrenched, poised and prepared to serve the New World

Order. No wonder they frown over foreigners as they feel superior to any and all of them. They have been trained

and programmed to think and act this way. Reptilians, illuminati and masons abound in this small country of big

heads. No wonder I dont like these people much. They are void of life, void of spirituality, void of God, yea, void of

virtue



They are money-centered, egocentric, extremely selfish, inordinately arrogant. Everything revolves around their

money: the money which they unfairly earned, thinking all prerogative and privileges are theirs for that taking.

And take, they do. But where there is no money, they squash those beings, ridicule them, stamp them out so that

they will always remain non-factors - if only it were up to them, if only there were no God above. And this they do

so as not to waste their unimportant time which they would rather wile away amongst themselves, speaking

would-be nothings, thinking they are veritable somethings.

They are not a real people - without real justifiable emotions, without essential godly virtue, without innate true

joy. Lifeless and listless, they are paranoid in a quiet sort of way. Never stepping out of line for any single solitary

instance. O, no; everything is so contrived and programmed, working like an exact Swiss watch in painful

synchronous motions, it boggles the mind people could live in such a staged fashion, so oblivious to Life and the

Living. The stakes are high; the punishment even greater if they conform not and submit not o, so perfectly. No

worries there. They shall never step out of line. O, no, not they! For even that was programmed within them, in

case the ghastly thought emerged; and so, another trigger was put into place, only this one, internal, which kicks

in and steps up to the plate to take over if ever they had a spiritual revelation to enlighten them they are on the

wrong path, not the one that leads to Salvation. And so, you see, they live perfectly. Perfectly lifelessly. . .

And amongst all the seemingly perfect beauty: amongst the valleys and the mountains, the myriad of lakes nad

mini-lakes upon which is situated their perfect au couture landscaping, draped upon an already perfect natural

landscape, which none of them will ever enjoy as please: they are not programmed to do so; therefore, the

conception doth not exist (end of story; stick in a period make that an exclamation mark; exit right, curtains

down; next scene begins). The veriest life has been siphoned out of them for the sake of money and power. And

so, they know only their assignments, timed to the very, very minute. All other time does not exist for them, and

so they wile it away. For all other time for them is down-time, where they make certain to do nothing at all of any

importance. The other times (the up-times) and only times that count, they feel they are all-important gods upon

the earth, creating their own order, way and being, secretly enslaving the masses. Ironically, though, they lost

the higher order of all, the only Way, their very being. . .

All other peoples do not exist for them as any significant factors in this life; for them, they are but monetary,

economic, financial and political infidels on a micro, macro and global level. And this unceasing quiet underlying



animosity towards all those outside their own circles thickens the air with this, their pulsating emanating energy,

wrapped in a coat of ultra-arrogance and boastful pride, with all their puffed up states and egocentricity,

ostentatious behaviours, exacting mannerisms and bizarrely inhumane thought patterns, you can almost cut it

with a knife. It is that thick a spiritual heavy dark and invisibly opaque fog they live in and abide by. No wonder

they never see anything , or at least, as it really is.

They are not their real selves, but programmed into something other, something very other.

And so for all us other others: just know, they were never that which we are, although pretend to be...

They are contrived.

- Programmed how to think and what to do.

And what fits not into their scheme fits not into their mind.

The best thing, I think for Switzerland would be for their conductors to run their trains purposely tens of secondslate, even a daring minute and a half or so (but lets not time it); for their watchmakers to willfully allow some of

their finest creations defects with which to puncture their perfect synchronicities over the very very decades and

pedantic, fastidious painstaking Swiss centuries; for them to allow even their chocolate to freely exhibit some dark

spots in the odd bar here and there; and for the odd village to grow imperfect flowers in not such opaque and

vibrant colours! Maybe then, they would begin to open up their eyes to human possibilities and a joyful

spontaneity they are void of in their natural - excuse me - contrived state. Maybe then, they could begin to smell

the roses if theyd only simply allow them to grow wildly in lieu of perfectly pruning them on time in their most

exacting seasons; and perhaps they would best be off to go ahead and just allow some weeds to grow amidst

their perfectly manicured gardens and perfectly tilled land and perfectly mowed greener than green and super



It is then that Ill assess how much more entrenched their sordid trends became, and the detrimental effects,

thereof, which snowballed upon their detrimental quasi-foundations of contrived being-ness which they lived in

far too long already.

Switzerland: beautiful from the outside each and every village (no exception), every town, every city too perfect

to imagine, much less to gaze upon.

Yet no one is able to enjoy one of them with all their heart and all their mind, for that, they seem not to possess.

And if in some strange fluke of some freak moment their heart succeeded to surface, well, then - instantaneously,

on queue - the quasi-mind would knows immediately what to do. It would shove the heart down deeper yet into

never-never land, rebuking it for daring to show it still remained there half-alive somewhere inside, lost amidst

the questionable organs they possess. For it must never be forgotten that the heart must continue to remain

enslaved to the programmed minds and states and bodies and their non-beings so as to leave them virtually soul-less and spirit-less, heartless and void of any and all innate emotion. Hows that for perfect packaging, a

diplomatic decorum extraordinaire, and a perfect vision for any studio sitting any which portraitist could at any

time paint any hour of the day of any which puritan Swiss persona, perfectly posed, perfectly primed, perfectly

gauged, and perfectly paid . . .

Switzerland: the Disneyland of international bankers and sinister illuminati. Regulated via stealth mode, but just

short of being visible. For even the surveillance is pre-programmed and tucked away carefully with an exacting

placement here, there, and everywhere. All is hidden and controlled at every corner, every bank, every single five

star hotel, their fine dining restaurants, each and every significant key alcove and glitzy junction that could serve

as a meeting place: all this must be factored in and perfectly fitted with apparatae. And it is behind this invisiblecurtain that the symphony is made to function in perfect synchronicity, as though it were all per chance

Switzerland: a dangerous place to make ones abode if one still wishes to remain alive; that is, full of life. Where

one could easily lose their heart, their soul their mind, their life yes, while still living. To live lifelessly

forevermore, soul-lessly, and heartlessly, perfectly programmed in your mind. Thence, not being aware of

anything thats real, being swooped into this ever neverland, one could create that which exists not , incorporating

it into a veritable quasi-life of synonomous superficial values, serving their bogus powers pretending they, too, are

gods; correction: who have convince themselves that they, too, are gods, giving every indication that they are

unto their golden dawn ever emerging upon their horizon which never seems to draw nearer, save in the myriad

of visions in their convoluted minds. Then, you too, could live for the age of aquarius, an age conjured up by their



imposter of a god they serve, decimating their life even whilst they quasi-live here upon the earth! The one whom

they mightily serve with all their beings, yet totally clueless and ever oblivious of doing so in some strange

impossiblish way. For only through some internal real looking glass or absolute peep hole, fashioned from Above,

do they ever see and know, but that is never allowed to actually register! And so, totally void of any and all godly

reality from on High, they continue to remain totally void of life and real substance, unable to save their souls and

their minds and their hearts and their beings. And think that all admire them and are envious. Astounding!. . .

A fairlyland of a state, which looks so perfect, yet exists not in real time; for even their time is contrived, and

operates on some other platform from another, let us say, tinsel world: one which really exists not, but is forced

into being.

A A A cccooonnnt t t r r r i i i v v v eeed d d nnnaaat t t i i i ooonnn ooo f f f aaa cccooonnnt t t r r r i i i v v v eeed d d p p peeeooo p p pl l l eee ......

Switzerland: the biggest sham of all countries, living for itself and for its own native people; correction: human

bred computers.

Yet behind all the curtains of all of its façades, lies a lurking menacing living beast with myriads of hands and feet

and minds, moving all in synchronicity, gathering every region of the world, ushering them under its feet as a

much desired footstool. Allow me to correct my verbiage: ushering the world under its claws where it yearns

for all the world to be: under its umbrella; under its very, very jurisdiction; under its super-scope and

microscope; under its up-to-now dormant domain; under its veriest territory so that she can adopt them eachregion of the globe as another ever bliss Swiss canton. And all this is accomplished oh, so diplomatically, oh, so

quietly and unassumingly, oh, so punctually and prettily . Under the perfect beauty of the most shallow still life

nature I ever did see. Even their nature, I believe, is not fully convinced it is real;, and so, it, too, just poses

perfectly in case one of its masters might snap a picture of it any which moment. Yes, so it just sits pretty, all day

long, untiringly and ever so obtrusively, hardly blowing in the wind, with every blade of grass in place, petals on

the roses intact, and even the leaves in autumn conspire to turn gold and red on queue so that they will make a

better snapshot whenever someone passes by who might just think to capture the fleeting moment.



It reminds me of what their very people do in all their padded leather oversized chaises amidst their perfectly

decorated hotels or banks or offices or homes or luscious gardens or anywhere else they might feign

retire to to pose and think (but think as they ought and as they are taught) . . .

Let us see how I shall fair in convincing them that life is actually real and dynamic, charismatic, invigorating, even

titillating!. . . .

A dreaded task.

- But much needed.

For much will be divulged in these appalling conversations which will rock their foundation and mine.

Much, indeed, revealed.

Much discovered.

Much recovered.

Much rebuttled.

God Be with Me as I Enter into t t t hhheee LLLaaannnd d d ooo f f f t t t hhheee NNNooonnn---LLLi i i v v v i i i nnnggg ... ... ...

Where they do not serve Christ, but lo, the other one - whose name they never seem to get just right; rather, they

conjure up for him a host of various titles, names, insignia, signs and symbols. B ut never will they just admit his

real name, admit its really him they serve, admit their his and he is theirs, admit the truth, admit the lie they live

in.

That is WHY between me and them, there IS NO CONNECTION.

T T T H H H A A AT T T ,,, M M M yyy F F F rrri i i eeennnd d d ,,, i i i sss W W W H H H Y Y Y ... ... ... ...

swiss miss returns - enthused enamoured evasive

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