Transfiguration On the Horizon

I went to Greece to find Ireland.  I dined with my family at Christos Greek Restaurant, in Minnetonka, MN.  Our server looked like the main blond female character, Daenersys  Targaryen, from Game of Thrones. I told her that I have never watched the show, but I saw her interviewed on Late Night TV.  Her hair was pink and her name was like mine in school, Jenny.  Her black boots held the curse, and her gentle skittishness did not alarm me.  I told of the likeness and she beamed and thanked me.  She said it was the nicest thing she has ever heard.  Jenny will now become more bold and Irish, and as Daenersys gets more humble and careful.  Too much piehole is not good little missy, so sayeth the queen.  There was a picture that looked like those cliffs in Northern Ireland, but I assume it was some part of Greece.  Magic is spinning in the minds of many.  People need to choose a carefulness to choreography.  As this woman sped up around me, her feet became more steady and determined to just come through and honor the vampiric quality I have with soda on that evening.  I will be the only queen that Ireland has ever had.  Game of Thrones opened up a box of whine for those with me.  I pay attention and give mind to all that are about to be.  The busser was an ogar man whose eyes shone blue and Ireland came to formation in the dining area.  Ogars are rising in the East and they will all be what they wish to be due to their lifelong servitude and duty to the queen.  They are the ones who did not look away, and will not be victims of deceit or lies.  He knew when to clear the dishes.  He cleared my dish last, and asked very properly.  He waited until I was done, and all my loyal subject fought to eat what was free.  No more, she is the one.  You will not eat when she is through.  When she is done, she will cast you away and welcome her king to her chambers.  All that is wrong will be righted when I go aboard Holland America Cruise Lines for Nova Scotia headed for the destination of Montreal.  Witches will be afoot, and their grandeur will only be seen from this time forward if they are loyal to me and only me.  I just took a brief rest.  I awoke from a dream of me with my priest clerical collar from my very special cloistered crew at St. Thomas University's Monastery.  I was laid flat on the floor after my second year of graduate studies, and they broke my chin as I lay in the shape of a cross.  They are now the prostrate ones.  That was all due to Hamline University's lack of diversity toward priestly affairs, cares, and conservatism.  When Ireland is ready to receive me, I will cloister for a week at that location on Cretin Ave.  We will speak in spurts (I will only speak to break the toxicity of constant and communal telepathy.  Quotes and compliments work best.), but I will have privacy to have no one touch me or ask me to entertain their concerns or problems.  My transfiguration ability will become pure and elite.  As I board the ship I will transform into a sweet and gentle fawn.  I will lie in the cargo hold and sleep for the THREE WEEK journey setting sail from New York City unlike my upcoming trip which sails from Boston, MA.  As I depart, my King Christopher Dunlop, of Dublin, Ireland, will build our castle just outside of Dublin.  He will clear the land and horizon with witcheries, and then build with the most magical wizardry that has ever existed.  He will have stolen my brother, Peter's, abilities and notoriety.  Peter really should have become a full fledged priest in New York City, and had privacy and opulence, publicly, from that point on.  Now my King has his keys due to the crowning of the new King of Britain, Nic.  He took it on bended knee and declared me free, internationally.  Britain is now one kingdom.  No more separation with Scotland, just different Witcheries, and Wales will just fall into the sea.  Northern Ireland and Ireland are now one unified Ireland and we keep it for my vampiric master and King Chris, never to welcome the steps or even a horse bearing my brother Peter.  We wish for no war to break out for those I love and I wish to keep safe.  Belfast is now the figurehead city for the NATION, not the kingdom of The United Kingdom, and they can now deal with the United Nations for me.  I make a new forthright IRA delegation today.  They know the how commonplace warfare can become, and hopefully they can argue to keep it away from me.  They hold a sleep key for me.  Once we reach the EASTERN SHORES of Ireland, I will awake to the ding of a triangle and will transform into human form with a burlap bag on.  My dignity will be guarded by prison stewards as they did today at the YMCA.  I will then put on my black trench coat robe with my collar and warm black tights with thigh high black boots.  We will stay there for a month, exactly to the moment of landing, and my King will wait finishing details around our new home.  I will carry a rod walking bow topped with a large sterling silver cross with a point that grips in all terrains.  We will then journey in a team of ten.  This lass server and this ogar from last evening will be there and they will choose the 7 others for their abilities, not their witcheries or disciplines of demonic expression.  I will be on horseback with a steady lead and she will ride in a wedding gown in front of me.  I will stay in my priestly garb.  My sister will stay back and guard the colony of St. Thomas Catholicism and become the Irish Knight we need in The States as things shift, internationally, especially for the undercurrent of schizophrenia that will rise as I shift my loyalties of my abilities and healing to Ireland and only Ireland.  A world traveler from birth, she deals with it all, effortlessly.  She will never be Catholic, but will not speak sweetly to any religious foe.  Chis and I will marry on a hillside as my sorcery winds and wings whip the proper air into my lungs.  I will take him to our bedchamber and I will sleep for a week.  They rest is left for privacy, not imagination.