“Frequencies” Fiction. Based on a True Encounter with a Magician in Hollywood.

“Anything bad that has happened in my life, I was a part of it.”

-Jessica Wen-inspired

 

“Frequencies”

Fiction. Based on a True Encounter with a Magician in Hollywood.

by Mingjie Zhai

This journal entry is inspired by true events. Some of the characters, names, businesses, incidents, and certain locations and events have been fictionalized for dramatic purposes. Any similarity to the name, character or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

 

“What about the frequencies,” she asks.

“Which frequencies?” the magician replies.

“Well, I’ve been seeing 13s and 33s everywhere I go.”

She takes a chance to tell him what’s been happening to her these past few years, ever since she had almost married Green Eyes, who mentioned the significance of 33. There is a chance he may relate, a sliver, with the likelihood that he may think she’s out of her mind.

“Have you done any research into 33s?” he says.

She is coming into some hypnotic spell that she suspects he has something to do with. He’s a professional who has toured the world doing this kind of stuff. They had met at the Starbucks in the middle of Hollywood, the place where all the magic happens. Is it any surprise that she attracted a magician who is quite possibly more than a 33rd degree?

After their long conversation on aliens, end times, and his touring the world with his magic, they both agreed to stop by Trader Joes so she can pick up a drink. She’s been craving alcohol from the anxiety/nervousness/uneasiness of the unknown. She’s breaking new territory and the idea of the drink to easy her nerves calls to her. She knows that the best alternative is Kombucha.

While at Trader Joes, they both go to the restroom. The way this particular Trade Joes restroom was built, there were too that faced one another. One side for Women and the other side for Men. They both go in their respective restrooms at the same time. She looks in the mirror while he was on the other side of the bathroom and is quite conscious that he has put her under some sort of spell. Perhaps, it was a forgetfulness spell. Does he know that she is a journal-artist who will one day write down their conversation in this fictionalized journal entry of sorts? Does she know that he is a master magician, looking quite insignificant, almost like a vagrant, to blend into this part of tinsel town? It is method acting. She’ll play along. He is a 13th degree. His father one of the top leaders in the order. Perhaps, he knows just as much as she knows who the other person is working for…for they both possess the spiritual gift of discernment.

“Jesus, I ask for your protection, your guidance,” she says out loud, “May you deliver me from evil.” She knew that she was having a civil conversation with a mason. One of the 13th degree. “Greater is He that is in me than he that is in this world.” She recited as much as she could remember. She’s a baby Christian.

She hears two voices in the other side of the bathroom wall. She imagined there were two of him, a personality split, two men, two distinct voices….he is a mason and also a man. Would it be too far fetched that he was also talking to his higher power while she is talking to hers? Holy spirit versus legion. She has to remind herself that she is in a spiritual war zone, in the heart of Hollywood, where she had attracted him.

She came out and realized he was already at the checkout stand, as if teleported there.

She got a Kombucha and used her company card with the RFID chip. He told her about the RFID and how a man had already invented the RFID through the inks that we use to tattoo ourselves.

She thought about TattooInk, the Luciferian /Satyrist who co-founded it and who was gaslighting her the two months she really wanted to stay sober (sex, love and alcohol recovery)–he came to her with a black hat and a red logo in the shape of a devil girl. She knew that Saturn had sent him to mess with her, and she did fall for it, weak to the flesh, to distract her from her mission. He wanted to join the Board, but she knew he had ulterior motives. She knew which side he was working on.

How can she undo it? Only through the power of repentance and prayer to God.

It’s the ink. A company he said would sell for millions but it’s something about his selling his soul that makes her feel disgusted at herself that she had shared her body with him at a time when she knowingly realized that he had also placed her under a spell. It was a black magick spell–a spell she knew how to break as a Christian, through the power of prayer and repentance, but that power is always in the choice. She had chosen lust —expediency over meaning as Dr. Jordan Peterson would say, and so she was miserable and felt like she was off her path, mentally tortured around him. It was with great relief that she was finally able to pull away. Ultimately, it was he who left. She always found relief in allowing the men to leave her rather than the other way around. 

She wants to meet and marry a cowboy like Trey Gowdy who said it best, “Live the simple life. The hero lies in all of us.” A man who is simple means a man who has more gratitude than ambition, more wisdom than words, a man who listens and learns rather than lectures and talks down to. She is looking for a cowboy, indeed. They are rare in this city, but they are out there somewhere.  

The magician talks about end times. “There will be a time when people throw morals and ethics out the door…a time when they can’t feed their families.” 

“When that time comes, it is best to die a hero honorably, than to die a coward, slowly. It’s all in the way you die,” she says.

“To die a hero is the best way to go,” he agrees. 

“Yes,” she agrees.

He walks her to the parking lot, but she stops mid track.

“What of the hive mind being constructed?” she inquires.

“It’s all divine design. What God allows, God has a plan for. Even the shadows follow orders according to a Higher will,” he says.

His response gives her comfort. Perhaps they all are working for the same side, just that some are the anti-heroes. The black and white knights are all players on the same chess board.

“I like the idea of the multiverse where we become the Gods of our own universe,” he says. “The multiverse can become connected to the hive mind of the human consciousness. Imagine being all connected. No more secrets. No more lies. All enlightenment,” he says. 

She smiles. She does not make him wrong for being wrong. Her job is to love him and witness, to listen to Holy Spirit help her interpret, to battle her own fears through faith, so she smiles and looks into his blue green eyes.

“You have beautiful light brown eyes,” he says to her.

“They will one day turn blue like yours,” she says.

She remembers her grandfather’s eyes–he had blue eyes like the ocean. She is the water boar.

“I have a question,” Angelie asks the Magician.

“Why do the Luciferians do what they do?”

“They speed up the process because they want it to be over just as much as the Christians who wait for Christ to come back do,” he replies.

Ah, integrating the shadow.

As above, so below.

“Romans 8,” she whispers back, as if it was a top secret message.

Perhaps, it was.

He looks at her, leans in and gives her a kiss on the cheek. He looks at her with reverence. He slightly bows to her in deference as he walks backwards facing her, then he turns around and leaves.

As she walks to the parking lot she thinks, why the hive mind? And is this the very “hive mind” that has been turning people into spiritual zombies? It is the top corporations who has this vision of a godless utopia whilst riding the left hand path. What is the end game of the immortality genome? Is it to harness souls? Is it to feed the rebellious angel who thirsts for the mana, given through the Book of Life?  Do some of us willingly play into the deception, so we may trade our human “being” into a human “thing” for the same lie the angel of deceit wants to play by? Immortality and power in exchange for love? 

Recently, a friend told her that the someone on the inside who takes care of Nicki Minaj could not contractually look Nicki in the eyes. Why? Because if you look her in the eye, and you happen to have a strong sense of spiritual discernment, then you have the chance of directly confronting the daemon possession through the power of Christ that would prove dangerous to the lower energy spirits since higher energy will always overpower lower ones (for it is written).

Those who are below are waiting with sighs and groans. They want to speed up the process because they have a motive to speed it up. Those who are in hell. It makes sense. She thought to herself as she walks away from the chance encounter with a 13th degree mason in disguise as a magician who pretends to be a vagrant among all of us. 

 

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