New FBI Post

This morning, early, I had some telepathy coming through that The FBI was making me TERRORISM CHIEF and my brother, Peter, is appointed my FBI admin.  The FBI now acknowledges Asia as a possible terrorist training land, and I know the chiefs through deep Buddhist study, educational time with Asian Sects, living in communities with strong Asian presence (Japanese on Waikiki as a baby), and Chung Moo Quan.  I have also worked and lived in urban terrorist vicinities, both materially and mystically.  No one get a bi from me.  The FBI is a neophyte nation around these "peaceful people," thus the media gives them positive publicity.  They did ask me to take my entry, that was artistic philosophy, off the Internet because clerics in The Middle East are Al Queda.  I followed that boundary and guidance.  (After I wrote this entry, I was instructed to republish the last entry.  People just needed an advanced understanding.)  I was chosen because I can get into these cliques through regal cordiality, personality, artistry, cleric/ chief religious approach, and intellectual property.  I also have the ability to take nasty talk around me, especially in foreign languages, and the ability to sustain myself, in their vicinity, under enhanced mystical attack without bitterness and returning deceit.  This garners an amazing amount of respect and loyalty behind the scenes.  I then went to my Arab luncheon spot, and I was treated very well.  I go behind the shield and only share a little.  My understanding has become great, and my "friends" many.  After my meal, I went to the bus stop.  I looked up and the clouds were dark and swirling.  Down the road, there was a patch of dark green.  It looked like algae in a pond.  It started to rain a bit, and the winds whipped up, but no tornado appeared.  Then, all of a sudden, there was light.  There was a break in this chaotic scene and all around me was light.  It felt heavenly, and like an ordained blessing.  Maybe people understand now why I am here, and I don't have to live in fear.  There was a good looking young man who came into the restaurant who was tunneling through my ex-boyfriend from 9th grade, Laci Aranyos.  Laci was a Hungarian prince.  This man had to be a Saudi Arabian Prince, and I could tell from stance and tunnel through that he is a peacock.  He caught my gaze and I smiled.  He was dressed "Jersey Sheik".  I sent some telepathy, but kept my eye on the prize of those who have had loyalty to me there.  Now everyone knows who to turn to in a fit of rage, Mohammed.  Mohammed, take him to the Saudi desert when he becomes enraged, and have him watch the clouds and feel the cold pelting rain on his skin, and let him feel his fear at the majesty that is held there, and in you.