All the Way to the Bank

I am working on setting up my physical therapy in a pool with Courage Center. I am just waiting for a call back. I feel the wheels of rage working against me. I just keep putting one foot in front of the other. I had a cute teller at TCF today named Fahad. He is from India. He was effective and efficient. So many cute boys, so little time. Rock star eyes, all of them. People are so ignorant of the power held overseas in The Middle East, including India and Pakistan. Doctors now know to back away from foreign doctors when they are thinking. A lot of consequences could follow quickly and ferociously. A patient is a sacred thing. It is based on a sacred trust to not touch too hard and to diagnose properly. The West really does not care. They just see millions of patients in a day and make it a factory. Well notoriety comes from just a few, hand picked, ailing entities. There is a strong energetic exchange at this time that the molesters of The West see as sexuality. I diagnose behind my eyes and with my empathic nature and energy body. People see, and will eventually feel, themselves in me. I think that things will be neat and clean, but I am guessing that Fahad is in my bank account right now. Too much authority to harm me downtown, especially in the IDS. It is a foreign woman from Sinapore. She manages everything, EVERYWHERE, at this point. He just caught it. I made it so easy. All these things look like each other. It is actually high and holy expenditures of money going into a fast and steady ELITE reality. Thanks Fahad.