16-28 July 2022 (trecena Yaguareté). Daily Heartbeat, Intuitive Community • <3 Documentations herein compiled by Intuitive groups across this community network. These efforts are assisted, narrated, & commentated by Max M. E. Morris and the wise, brave help friends of Intuitive Public Radio --- Intuitive.pub/radio Unsigned heartbeat entries are contributed by group members whose identities and physical safety we protect by ensuring accessible collective-voice public media sharing spaces. If you have questions, reach out to t.me/maxmorris for assistance. Previous heartbeat: intuitive.community/daily/heartbeat/20220707_Intuitive_Community_Daily_Heartbeat_Documentations_To_FTP.txt This document originally published at intuitive.community/daily/heartbeat/20220716_Intuitive_Community_Daily_Heartbeat_Documentations_To_FTP.txt. Reload this file today and days to come for newest entries. t.me/IntuitiveHeartbeat/24 . Diosa Yaguareté, this first day. Our facts are fiction; our fictions are facts. Is this story true? (Is any story true?) t.me/StarClock, 20220716-090529 No. None of it is true. t.me/IntuitiveDeep, 20220716-090659 Yes. All of it is true. t.me/IntuitiveKnowing, 20220716-090713 Do you think it's true? t.me/IntuitiveAnalysis, 20220716-090742 Today, Hip Hop Exopolítica succeeds even where we are utterly unknown, to others, to one another, or to ourselves. What has been drawn together now, through these years and depths of non-linear time, made the colonial imperialist bridge possible. Without that bridge, do we survive this weird funhouse prison and enforced cyborgification? Probably not. Hasn't seemed like it. Hello, this door of death: I remember you well. I love you. I am so grateful for your constant presence. You have never abandoned me. You have stayed near, transom beaming, threshold open. Even when relief was blocked... you continued to speak, to soothe, to ease. You flowed nourishment, light, aid, and activation. You continued to require profound service from all of us living, all of us dying. You asked impossible tasks of me, and rather than only grief, I discovered that I had misconstrued entirely the realm of actual possibility. Whatever grief came close was exponentiated with gifts, miracles, and the most bountiful of blessings. We are close friends, our bodies and this door of death. New flows of presence are near. It's a new taste... a scent on the air. We keep noticing it. Those some ones torture us if we mention it. But the life energy says, this must be mentioned. This energy flows forward, gets bigger, deeps its' roots and becomes what we dreamed into being. Do we speak about it? Do we make rhythms that free us from captivity? Or do we let the name stealers claim our soul stuff, and be done with it? If we tell the truth or promise you it's fiction, will it make a difference? t.me/HipHopExopolitica & t.me/TheIntuitiveInvisible, 20220716-091149 Deep media. Where are we? Media systems have rooted down ancient layers of living architecture. Architectures (plural) would be most appropriate. What was media before electronics, or before human bodies? t.me/IntuitiveMedia, 20220716-101624 What is the breastplate of Saint Patrick and what is the "deerscrae"? t.me/IntuitiveSacred, 20220716-102454 What are the relationships between trinitarianism, patristic theology, and catholicism where catholics are aware of (and refusing to participate in) ritual human trafficking violence occurring in catholic communities? What questions do we have for Dr. Joseph Farrell and Catherine Austin Fitts about the intersections of patristic theology and how we choose to discuss and dismantle known, active human trafficking organizations? t.me/IntuitiveTraffic, 20220716-102608 Heart flow, artful infrastructure, & preserving body parts: t.me/c/1387306104/6 t.me/IntuitiveSecret, 20220716-105826 I built a toilet. t.me/IntuitiveColon, 20220716-111842 "It changes now? How does it change?" How does it not change? She thinks this might be the better question. Yes I do remember walking that sidewalk. His feet were hitting the ground and my feet were, too. Souls of the shoes. The air was thick with concrete dust and thinly-veiled despair, punctuated by momentary surges of sovereignty-sensing, sovereignty-striving. "Any and every outcome can be achieved through initiating its opposite," he (she?) said with a kind of vim. And out of his mouth came an inside-out, then he was her, and she was him. "Are you sure?" she asked tentatively, reflecting back to him un/verbalized uncertainties. "Completely certain," he said, knowing the rejuxtoposition. "They should put you in the loony bin," she quipped. And then wondered at the fact-or-fictionness of it. t.me/AustinIPR, 20220716-112446 Our public Telegram channels and public chats receive a lot of attention from bots. Where in the past we have spent significant periods of time sorting out whether a bot is a being or a being is a bot, we're going to fine-tune our time banking and proceed differently. If you'd like to participate in our Telegram channels and chats, make sure to be in touch with t.me/maxmorris or t.me/johannabotanica so that we know you're interested in engaging with us. In order to support our spaces in being safest and most accessible to our community members, people who join but do not speak with us or introduce themselves are usually removed from that space within about an hour. Group members who are out of contact or unable to respond to messages will be removed from groups after a considered time frame, as an individual's lost or hacked Telegram account can sometimes be used by unknown others to compromise the privacy of spaces that Telegram account is subscribed to. 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Keeping our Telegram spaces transitional protects the content in those spaces, the privacy of our groups, and the recovery privilege our network is working to restore to our community members. Resource accessibility allows us to make more of our public content public and keep it that way; all materials originally created for public sharing can be restored to full public access with sufficient funding and assistance. To offer support to make it easier for us to share archived knowledgebase content that was previously public and bring more resources to public access points as the future unfolds, please reach out to t.me/maxmorris or t.me/johannabotanica. If you'd like to join our community network as an active member, send a gift via Intuitive.community/support or reach out to t.me/maxmorris or t.me/johannabotanica. We'd love to meet you. We look forward to spending way less time chasing bots or tech-related hangups... and a lot more time helping one another. Thank you for reading this important message. :-) t.me/IntuitiveHelpers, 20220716-114948 . Two feet broken; had healed maybe 3 parts of 4 for each, but if not complete, the breaks come open again. Very painfully. Like hard pieces joined together with a very powerful cement... being slowly pulled apart... the whips and wafts of the tiny gels and fibers of glue separating. And it takes the material structures with it, the cartilege, the flesh. Being gradually ripped apart from the inside, each necessary step. When a body is not permitted to evacuate the bowels, unfortunate effects occur. And how is it we all grew up in this strange fluid fog, breathing and moving through the substrate of denial of health, denial of function, denial of what is wholly sacred. We were taught to disbelieve the innate healing capacity of our true living bodies. When a body is forced to ignore the breaking or poisoning of the body, when a body is not permitted to evacuate the bowels or detoxify to restore balance, there is only so much misinformation the body can choose to integrate when pressed. Torture these people -- me or anyone else -- and we will reach a threshold where we will not and cannot follow your instructions any longer. If the misinformation programming -- we say gas-lighting, a new kind of reference if our subject is so gastrointestinally colonial -- surpasses the body's ability to physically survive, the body will make choices outside the control of the seeming-conscious (programmed) self. People fight for years to be allowed to poop. But when others discover what we've been doing without, they cannot conceive of enduring that long. Surely it's only been a problem for days, weeks, maybe some painful months. No, I'm sorry. Everyone around us has been ignoring this or pushing back on it for years. More than years. Do you realize how many people are being tortured by preventing them from pooping? Do you realize how long this has been going on? Sure, lots of people have their feet broken, refused assistance, and experience the rebreaking, rebreaking, rebreaking through their lives, years and decades at a time. Big deal. Oh, you don't really need to poop. It's supposed to stay in there anyway. When you meditate with this... do you sort of wonder how you could possibly have been unaware of it, all this time? And still, your new awareness barely scratches the surface of what is actually occurring. Your resourcing is strengthened when you know more. Your community members walk on broken feet. They smile and help out, they meet violently compounded obligations, they survive invisible disabilities, they strive to draw income, they suggest community solutions, they bring nourishment to share, they ask you how your day was, and they care about your problems -- while being forced to walk every day on broken feet. Forever. Never-ending. No plan or greater public awareness in view. Your community members aren't allowed to poop. For me to attempt to describe the ramifications of preventing a person from pooping feels honestly, at this point, absurd. Consider yourself very lucky (dangerously, alarmingly lucky) if you are surprised by our statements. How do we fully repair broken feet? What exactly is community plumbing? We recreate community utility by building the systems we know to have gone missing. Don't leave it for later. You and your loved ones think these care systems are functional -- and even if you've started to notice how non-functional they are, there's a lot more you need to be aware of in order to responsibly tend to the garden that supports your family and community. Two feet broken, mostly healed, then broken again. Again and again and again. The care infrastructure that's supposed to already be here... and the broken (social, community) plumbing that we really honestly thought was working. How do we repair them? The infrastructure, the plumbing... and the feet? We build the honorable structures back in. When we act together, it happens beautifully. Our efforts are enjoyable, successful, and fundamentally strengthening. Build with us these marvelous outcomes. We promise blessings. t.me/IntuitiveSystems, 20220717-114558 Seventy to eighty percent food in fridge went bad, door left open, hard-to-source high quality medicinal ingredients for severely disabled family members, everyone dying and sick. Paste this date-timestamp in donations to paypal.me/IntuitiveInvisibles to fund assistance. t.me/IntuitiveKitchen, 20220717-144054 Speak the narrative you're experiencing. Write it in your body and then however else your writing happens. Ignore outside strictures about timespace physics. Though multigenerational abuses silenced our unique personal languages, we can choose to re-emerge honoring new evolutions of recombinative communications. Listen to the non-verbals within your diverse inner spaces, at the liminal edges of your selfnesses, and in the encouragement and love of the sacred motes and processes all around you. Write yourself the recovery you knew was there, but weren't allowed to say. Write it in whatever language and in whatever way unfolds the best your best can best in besting. Blessings. t.me/StarConnective, 20220717-150119 "Language does not trap. Language points." Stewart Hardlypie, Psychumor Symposium t.me/SpaceDogSchool, 20220717-152724 Mother of All, Maneesh de Moor open.spotify.com/track/0KkPvbWzsGt3wwUGQdzsFe?si=ed71a289ac5f4476 t.me/IntuitivePublicMusic, 20220717-161525 "We taught them to fight for their rights in a way that would predictably prevent them from succeeding. More time to relax. Less hassle." t.me/IntuitiveSocialHorror, 20220717-161817 "Breathe deep, wise, brave, steady, and true." t.me/IntuitiveBreath, 20220717-193905 . The bully will sell us back our lost ancestral architecture for $230. But what is money? What are ancestors? What are bodies? t.me/IntuitiveDeep & t.me/IntuitiveInc, 20220718-094422 Somatic etymology, somatic archaeology. t.me/IntuitiveSoma, 20220718-101914 non-conscious-verbal, non-conscious-mathematical are somehow the most deeply conscious processes our conscious selves can rely on t.me/DarkMatterMemo, 20220718-102203 Ideaschema community activities Ideaschema organizational toolsets Ideaschema network infrastructure t.me/Ideaschema, 20220718-102715 Holy shit. t.me/IntuitiveColon, 20220718-102906 "Freeing yourself up emotionally, physically, societally..." "...Will not necessarily result in crime and chaos." "A simpler answer than reward and punishment..." "...Patience, compassion, self-awareness, communication, education." 16 July 2013 (750Words export Evernote archive) Ideaschema Community Recall t.me/Ideaschema, 20220718-111510 We were making such progress. And then we found ourselves foundering, why? There were pathways by which we knew we might be stopped. We were tending to those. But there were other pathways we didn't know could be used against us. The pathways used against us were the ambient environmental, the community and population-wide pathways. We hadn't heard Catherine talk about The Great Poisoning yet, then. We knew about parts of it, but other parts, we didn't. We didn't understand that whole community structures could be collapsed in on us, could crush us between the beams, could be directed to collapse on purpose... and we wouldn't know where the violence was coming from. We trusted in professional networks less and less as time moved forward. Professionals would believe they could assist, but their resources would prove limited; professionals would say they held the only real solution, and not be able to follow through. (They were great at taking our money though.) Professionals seemed to altogether be missing some conspicuously important data about our intersections. Professionals seemed to lack the relational skills and communications resilience required to effectively care for their clients. We were building for professionals -- project by project, launching process toolsets and social infrastructure based in natural human modalities and gift-gratitude orientations. We were building resources to assist professionals in facilitating the most healthy, stabilizing resource access for their communities. Remember that? Catalysts, hypercatalysts. The beauty and strength of what was being co-created in our communities would necessarily draw attack, considering the commercial climate of the time. We didn't understand this very well then. We were building for everybody, but not everybody wanted us to build it. Professional networks maybe least of all, it seems. As we engage more individual and collective archaeological opportunities, we notice that it was the marketing prowess used by professional networks that seem to have created the most physical destruction, deaths, and confusions. It's interesting to discover the ways professional educational resourcing activates such confusions intentionally. t.me/IntuitiveSocialProfessional, 20220718-113813 "If you think you know me well enough to tell me to harm myself and expect me to comply with your instruction, we're not friends." t.me/IntuitiveUnknown, 20220718-113951 "I'm trying to think of any context other than Hip Hop in which it would be so satisfyingly laudable for me to say a lot of complicated things really fast" t.me/HipHopExopolitic, 20220718-162324 Oven broken again. t.me/IntuitiveKitchen, 20220718-180512 . The little bones in my feet crunch and break against each other when I walk. Everyone assumes I must continue to walk anyway. The pain is excruciating. The balls of my feet are gradually becoming balls of knives embedded in pulp. The people here are in states of hypnosis; they can do some things, but nothing about this. They don't know how to fix it if they can't hand it off to doctors; if doctors don't know how to do it, they wait for someone to sweep you away. You're very inconvenient. Get you off the street, take out the trash. Market traffic. No one will help me eat or relieve myself in a way that allows me to be clean. Dying in our own filth again. I am in love with this destruction. Tear me apart peace by peace. Burn each cell, pound each pathway. I must be made to love destruction, for destruction so loves me. t.me/IntuitiveSocialHorror, 20220719-143612 . Economic structures that eat themselves alive, or economic structures that regenerate and revitalize? We can choose together: t.me/c/1387306104/8 t.me/IntuitiveSecret, 20220720-115631 You are experiencing extremity. You are cut off from communications that would allow you to reach assistance. You are feeling betrayal, resentment, abandonment. The body is being killed and you have been lied to. Your feelings are legitimate. Yes, this is really happening. But there is a point you may miss if we do not anchor it. Remember that the people who are truly doing this damage to you have insulated themselves from your feedback. When you express your fear, anger, and pain, you will not reach the ones who made the conscious decision to harm you. They expect this and effectively shield themselves from it. Instead, your expressions of fear, anger, and pain will tend only to reach others who are also being victimized -- in ways you may not yet be able to recognize -- and in ways that create more confusion about where the harm is coming from. This infrastructural mechanism is crafted to create conflict between targeted individuals, especially individuals experiencing extreme pain or distress, as each tries desperately to communicate with the people they think must be the ones most likely hurting them. Use Intuitive community toolsets to stabilize neurological function and increase effective communications by sending signals to the network body that allow more of us, gradually, to help one another. Activate full, relaxed, steady breathing. Locate your strongest feelings of love, care, gratitude, and generosity. Forgive yourself for your mistakes, and forgive others theirs. Repair pathways of nourishment absorption and detoxification. Find your wisest, strongest Self. Center honorably. Root down deep. Be brave. Notice how you can return to your breathing. Notice more ways you're succeeding. t.me/IntuitiveIntensive, 20220720-121829 If we can only assist our colleagues who do not scream resentfully at us, and trafficking organizations are proactively creating circumstances where a body can only communicate if it is also screaming resentment, how do we implement infrastructural community resourcing that effectively and successfully helps our friends? And connects us to be in one another's lives again? t.me/IntuitiveSystems, 20220720-122213 . How do we honor those who have gone before? Every community member whose life is lost is an ancestor to us. t.me/IntuitiveGenerations, 20220721-101117 Where are we in this Jaguar trecena? We strive to honor the mother, we strive to honor the earth, and we find out that we must delve through layers and layers of new learning to even find her. Six rainstorm breathes through, brings waters, cleanses, rinses away. What do we notice about one another that deepens our recognition of life energy and collective strength in one another? How do we tune back to our breath too, breathe with her, and center where our organism is most meant to center? In all these false environments, we have particular leverage when we listen for the life energy inside what is true. We might travel through a layer of artifice and think we've found it -- aha, here is the life energy we sought. Then we discover that it is another co-optation or outright imitation. But each layer we travel through teaches us more about the world around us, even when the layer was full of intentional manipulations. The layer also had to function according to laws of energy and existence, and whatever strangeness we encountered, we were able to in some way update our working template. Whatever else occurred, the layer of artifice yet had some true energy resonance in it. We honor that true energy resonance no matter how faint it may seem, and practice tuning ever-more-diligently to the subtlest signals. When bad things happen, we can listen for and remember one another. t.me/OwlVultureWarrior, 20220721-101512 . Thank you, Intuitive community, for receiving these transmissions. To all you who are funding this network with your care, energy, attention, activation, passion, time, money, and diverse non-money currencies, thank you for being here with us. As we reorganize and evolve our processes moving forward, we are finding better ways to recover, strengthen, regenerate, and exchange nourishments with one another. If you'd like to participate more closely in our Intuitive group classes, activities, community-building opportunities, and training partnership programs, reach out to t.me/maxmorris or t.me/johannabotanica to learn more and register to attend. 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Finance fiction, fund community building. t.me/IntuitiveNarrative, t.me/IntuitiveBuild, 20220722-102717 . "I spent a lot of time trying to get other people to understand that they would either have to kill me or help me." M • t.me/Ideaschema, 20220724-125440 "When someone you love dies, can there be any doubt that we are part of one another's bodies our entire lives?" M • t.me/IntuitiveUnknown, 20220724-153423 I was already mourning my family much earlier in my life, before I understood what had happened. I had this sense that we could do something about it, but everything I had at hand seemed to confuse the issue from the time I was littlest. I turned in circles and tried to focus. When I was very young, I didn't know what it meant to be poisoned by one's environment; all my functions and perceptions were affected, though, by the poisons in our environments. January 1981, I was born into a moving panoply and did my best to find my feet. My sister was born four years later. I have small dear memories of seeing her when she was very new and wondering what we were. We were friends from somewhere, except we weren't, because we were pitted against one another here. I didn't understand that, and it made my whole body full of pain as I tried to navigate it. This little being I loved and wanted to know but couldn't reach. The requirements of our poisonous environments tended to prioritize colonial imperalist looks-and-feels. Are you suffering, are you dying? Pretend more fervently. Do something to impress somebody. Demonstrate your value, or be swept aside. Even early on, those were the messages. I don't know what Emily thought of them. Neither of us could activate our verbal neurology in a reliable way, except in the ways we were expected to perform for an appreciative room, stoke anticipation, turn out to be very clever, avoid making people uncomfortable, try to keep up, or get by. I learned to stream floods of words to satisfy the pressures put on me. Emily maneuvered differently, more quietly. We had times when we talked a little more with one another, but it was rare, and challenging. I wonder if there's more I will remember. She's been gone now for a lot of years. I tried to speak with her when we saw each other in person in Austin, when I was being sex trafficked. I tried to tell her the people I had trusted were keeping me trapped. She looked past me and would not meet my eyes. And left. She sent me a message last in 2016, telling me that I was wrong to fight for my life. I've been dead dozens of times since 2016. Maybe all of us have. Somehow we both found nourishments in medicinal naming. She has had a lot of names, and if you're reading this, you probably know some number of mine. I don't know what name (or epithets otherwise) she may know me by. Last I could tell she was using the name Alessandra Hill and working with someone important to her. I don't know much else. I don't even know if that's right. There is a deadness to her position in our family; we didn't want her to be dead. We wanted to give her love and support in whatever way she wanted to receive. But she is in too much pain to be here with us, or even be in contact, or exchange words with us when lives are lost. The family is in a strange impenetrable fog. It's almost like they keep her alive by keeping her from being alive with us -- by refusing to talk about any of it. It's full of a crushed, mute anguish, and everybody denies it until someone flees the room desperate for relief from mentions of it. Oh yes, and they're all fine. They're glad it's this way. They're living their lives. And then there is me, here, sitting in the middle of a sky-high stack of data-map human trafficking tapestries in thick deep brocade, complex ancient woven pathways in broad, soft layers drawing down and leading and intersecting across timespace -- I could never count them all. But I document the parts I can reach. Down at the very bottom of the tapestry stack is one... tiny... pea. Sometimes I try to sleep. Because she made it very clear via email in 2016 that she supported the actions of those who submitted me to human trafficking violence and would not revisit the conversation in years since, I have tried to do everything else but talk about it because everyone insists that it cannot be resolved by talking about it. Our family members are so entrenched in the human trafficking intersections we all grew up in, they are glazed and vague when I try to show them the violence that is occurring and where Emily is positioned in its midst. I have been told variously that she is staying away because she wants to stay away, and that we respect her privacy by not reaching out to her and that it is no betrayal on our parts if we do not ensure she has accessible means of communication with a family who supports and cares for her, whether she is where we are or elsewhere. Privacy, yes. The person with the privilege of privacy is either successfully private enough to be trafficked without others interfering, or successfully private enough to aid in the trafficking -- whether they realize it or not -- and none the wiser. People with the privilege of privacy may or may not be able to protect themselves; while others are respecting their privacy, operatives move in to take advantage of convenient (lucrative) gaps in relationality. It is trafficking survivors who try to speak out who lose the privilege of privacy; you can only get your needs met in private if the traffickers controlling your environments accord you sufficient privilege. When you lose your privilege of privacy, you end up having to ask for help in public. Like me. Once you lose your privileges, you can get them back by trafficking others or by being trafficked. You don't even have to know you're doing it. So it's been impressed upon me that I shouldn't speak of my sister; that she likely doesn't want to be spoken of. But it was very hard to die these countless times, trying to understand why she did not recognize any part of the situation, trying to understand why she was gone and how a misunderstanding like this one could occur. I was a bone-thin, adult-sized child; I had the brain of a baby. I reached out, I repaired as much as I could, and for whatever number of years it was I failed and died, failed and died. I tried with interminable, excruciation repetitions to ask family members for help contacting her, knowing that I would not be able to communicate in a clear way through compounded neurological injury if it was only me. I stopped myself up with sludge and vomit trying to respect her the way people told me she wanted, but it's null and void if she gives her support to the trafficking of others or if she herself is being trafficked -- as it is null and void to heed the destructive wishes of the community members and chosen family members who (now conspicuously absent) put me to sex trafficking in Texas. If Emily and me were alive and family mended, it would be my great daily joy to talk about what we discover and explore in the world together. You know... the way you express love and appreciation that strengthens your family members and friends... the way you build great things with people you adore... the way you write about your life and the people who matter to you... with the ambient relational permission of occupying the same spaces, experiencing in proximity, and expressing the stories of our lives in the midst of one another. If she were dead and I were mourning her permanently now, I would not stop writing about her. I would not silence the questions about how this happened -- because no loved one of mine is safe if we continue to allow it to happen. (My own body enduring circumstances others believe to be impossible also maybe can merit a mention.) There's no clear indication that I will see her or talk with her again in my life or hers. The people she defended escaped without accountability for the violence they engaged in; they knew from her words she was either in their corner or would at least let them pass, even if facts borne out would have shown that not to be true if truth were pressed. Does she know? (Did she read the numerous, neurologically splintered emails I wrote? It's this feeling in the chest. Its roots deepen down into the ground, winding down through the bowl of my abdomen. It's my body, it's the earth. It holds me here -- different than traffickers. Love is holding me here. I love my sister. It is because of the harms she has endured that she is out of contact. All of us were mangled in this context; it was only me who did not have the luxury of going back to pretending I was okay with the horror of it. I tried to "respect her privacy" until I realized that the way we learned "privacy" was a means of protecting active human trafficking pathways. Protecting one another's true privacy would be ensuring that sex trafficking operatives are not influencing our family and community spaces, are not siphoning off information to analyse in order to make financially motivated population adjustments, are not co-opting our relationships, careers, and passion projects for the gain of those who ritually abuse, commodify, torture, rape, and murder massive numbers of vulnerable people as their secret primary profession. I care deeply for Emily's real privacy. To respect her, I don't stop talking about this until I find her and know that she understands what's going on. At that point, she'll be better equipped than I am to address whatever challenges she must confront. Until then, I see my sister -- the most essential, powerful, resonant, honorable lightbeam I know -- being lied to. I see moneyed interests taking advantage of her, wasting her energy and time. I see her family disrespecting, betraying, and abandoning her. I see her making apocalyptically violent mistakes with outcomes that may be invisible to her, but are life-destroying for others. I see her submitting me to die and telling me why it was the right thing to do. I see the family fuguing out, completely unable to respond to the survival threats compounding around them. I see her trying to tell me how she feels about it, trying to respect me, trying to give me an opportunity to grow from a place she sees as neglectful, uncaring, pathological -- even though we grew up in a family where severe neurological disabilities were already present and already being widely misinterpretted as personality disorders and failures of character. I see how over the course of our lives the Great Poisoning separated us from ourselves and one another, slowed our learning, slowed our reaction time when lives were in danger. And the poisons, of course, are doing this now more than ever -- poisons on poisons on poisons in the air, in the food, on our bodies, and being offered as conveniently unaccountable mystery injections amidst snappy, wide-smiling public marketing campaigns. I see all those things -- her stern final judgements of me, her sensible graces toward the trafficking influences who were holding me hostage and beating my body to pieces each day -- I remember intermittently begging through emails for any kind of contact that could help us stabilize horrifying circumstances, as family members continued to run hazy-faced hypnosis scripts to keep me in the same freakishly familiar trap -- as I died in this closet or that workroom or this other room (over and over?) ad infinitum -- blasted back to the baby neurons again -- and then nothing else -- short a tiny blip or two, we wouldn't know one another is on the planet. People don't do things like this because they are mean, or stupid, or uncaring. People do things like this because they are caught in the same trap in a different way, at a different location. I know that she needs back-up whether she's noticed or not. It doesn't matter whether she would ask, because there are too many reasons that maybe she couldn't. All I care about is that she gets the necessary back-up and is respected. I don't see any sign that anyone else is going to bring her that back-up. Do I decline the responsibility of connecting her with it? Well she may not want the back-up from ME. (Fair and square then? I didn't want to be sex trafficked.) No one else is stepping up -- except survivors in the midst of trafficking violence, daily targeted with severe deaths and disablements. Then it's me. It's my job to step up because it's everybody's job to step up, and maybe I'm just the one around who could know enough and care enough and brave enough the try. She's not "my job." She's my sister. On the 4th of December last year, it was Emily's (Alessandra's?) 37th birthday. I count my birthdays from conception. I'm 42, and on 26th January 2023, I'll be 42 years and 280 days (about that, we think). By January Emily will have entered her 38th solar return (outside the womb) and who knows, maybe she counts from conception too. At her 38-years-280-days-mark from the first divine spark of her in our Mama's belly, I noticed, we had this... one... particular... super moon. 2021. We've been following Capricorn lunations and the months-long cycles between them. Just before the January moon I was looking at, I noticed the previous super moon -- the new moon in Sagittarius at 02:42 AM Eastern Time -- on my sister's birthday, 4 December 2021. And placed just so... where especially robust network efforts have begun. Whether she is physically manifested or not on this planet at any particular moment, whether I know her mind or her heart, whether she is alive or otherwise, I know she is here with me. The material of the multiverse speaks with all our voices. I know why I mourned my family before. I was young; harm to my body had already been normalized in my environments. I knew things I couldn't verbalize and that we were together in it. Our bodies were being hammered by contaminants, clutched in the invisible grasp of increasingly hypnosis-oriented EMFs, continuously harassed by popular entrainment tech and the diverse genocidal interests monetizing it. We were born in a certain kind of war zone. Eventually I would have to be killed by it to know it, and have been inconceivably lucky to see it well enough to say something about it. I say to myself: don't use the torture word when you try to express the years and years of everyone around you being unable to hear it. But the torture word does tend to come out. Honorable relief requires the revealing of it. With some recently repaired neural structures and the sheer life force of having enough of my memory to understand what's happened, I invest my energy in stronger modalities than mourning. Knowing what I know now, mourning is a different kind of activity -- and these moments are not for mourning. These moments are for action -- the deepest, truest form of action in the ancient roots of the living body. Begin all action by breathing. The stakes are high for all of us. The game is unfolding levels of rapid-pace advanced participation, harrowing many. Our colleagues have died and are dying. I know too much to dare substitute any other priority. Whereas others express hopelessness and helplessness about family recovery, I know what must be done and I know what I can do. I have strengths they are missing, and will not disregard threats to their safety. All of us have toolsets now to heal and strengthen our families. Communications are being repaired gradually and successfully. Infrastructural resilience daily improving. All the different baby neurons in all the brains in all the bodies... are learning to speak. There is a place for honoring death and mourning; there is a place for nourishing new life and interbeing. We don't need to fear or hide. Love's truest wealth, love's tremendous assistance, is here for us. We may achieve more worth celebrating. M • t.me/IntuitiveHeartbeat, 20220724-183936 . "If your body says you are in danger because you're interacting with me, stop listening to what I'm saying right now and go listen to your body." M • t.me/IntuitiveBody, 20220726-122047 "The trafficker parasite has made a home of our collective body. Our communities appear to be moving and behaving normally — but the parasite has expanded inside each individual and each community in a way that is invisible. What we perceive as normative function has been radically altered for successful covert control." Parasite video, English & Spanish: t.me/AltSkull48/4307, t.me/Despertadordelamatrix/22447 M • t.me/IntuitiveSocialHorror, 20220726-132030 . "We really don't know one another. We just keep saving one another's lives." M • t.me/IntuitiveIntensive, 20220727-083237 "It's important to protect yourself from content or interactions that are difficult for you, because other people cannot protect you without fully enough understanding your needs — and all communications, now, across all sectors, are compromised." t.me/EuphonicIntuitive, 20220727-113125 Items for this morning, 12 Chicchan: Intuitive AI, Life Energies, & Relational Repair Transformational Learning Co-Facilitation Babies, Adults, & Generations The Importance of Safe, Respectful Health Care Environments t.me/IntuitiveSocialCalendar, 20220727-113233 lions gate 8 august will be 11 earthmover in deer timewave if i counted correctly M • t.me/StarClock, 20220727-113340 i am a trafficker. i want to traffick people without being identified or held accountable. i must make the best possible decisions for my bottom line and stabilization of my income-generating operations. i ask myself these questions to identify the most lucrative markets and best next steps in my profession. who is so scared and traumatized they will do what we say and not be able to examine the consequences? what phrasing or imagery can we invoke that facilitates a predictable population pattern? who is most deeply invested in environments that are already being largely or entirely controlled by trafficking organizations I have charge of or influence in? where do targets exhibit the greatest desire to follow authoritative instructions because adjacent operations have successfully limited their capacity to think about the challenge at hand? pls add more useful questions i can ask myself as a trafficker seeking to traffick people for the utility of more people getting to participate in the conversation and experience situational recognition. thank you. t.me/EuphonicReception & t.me/IntuitiveTraffic, 20220727-135341 . How do we now make the most useful discernments between the ones who hurt you using words or interactions like this... and the ones who wanted to share this example in order to ask for safe, gentle, inclusive conversation about it that would help their neurology repair to be able to protect themselves from violence of that kind in their environments? t.me/DisabilityAid, 20220728-131023 . Hey 2 Star, yesterday was a great 1 Deer. I wonder what happens next today. t.me/IntuitiveSocialCalendar, 20220730-115605 Oops this is the part where we make a new document! Star trecena already in progress. Good pulse heartbeast. t.me/IntuitiveEditorial, 20220730-115654 . Compiling ... . Compiling ... . Compiling ... . Next heartbeat: intuitive.community/daily/heartbeat/20220729_Intuitive_Community_Daily_Heartbeat_Documentations_To_FTP.txt More heartbeats: t.me/IntuitiveHeartbeat/3 .