Rachel and her Face: "The Dizzying Whirlwind Effect"

When I was just a kid, I would look in the mirror and think I was pretty. Then, my sister told me I was ugly, and so did children that were family friends. They all said I was ugly, and it was because I had dark circles under my eyes. So I trained myself to think my face was ugly.

In adolescence, I thought I was ugly as fuck. At times at Innercept, I thought I was just so ugly I was inbred looking.

Then, what my spirit guides and higher ups did, when I first became a medium. They kept saying, "bigger women get more respect on the Earth Plane." I'm like, what? No. No. And then they said, "Yes, but that's a common myth."

The thing was, I thought about that. Is a skinnier woman more attractive? It depends who you ask, some men don't like skinny women. And men who like slightly bigger woman might have a more respectful view of women.

Which leads to a subconsicous mysticism trail of thought that leads to me thinking my own face is pretty and seeing it like other people do.

Which leads to selfies, selfies, and more selfies.

FIN

In Addition...

I don't know how I was supposed to achieve any type of good Christian lifestyle, when the mission started Jesus had already moved on to another dimension and wasn't there. He wasn't there until 2016, when I was astounded, it was quite a moment, when I found out they lied. I didn't even know they lied. And how was I not supposed to trust the spirits or go along with them when they did something to transform the way my brain worked. When you can talk coherently without knowing what you are about to say, you are sane and have a "neural pathway" or "some sort of wire" in your brain.

And Beev, with all due love and respect, do not say I need counseling to create neural pathways. Keep Subbie's name and conditions out of your mouth but I can talk to you about it if you want dear mother of mine. I mean, Subbie. The experience is outstanding, and love of self is better than love of others, but it leaves you feeling empty when that's all you have just the same.

"You don't have to... You actually think you don't HAVE to write a blog?"

Reminiscing on the passing of my life... I can see every excuse for my behavior, every single one, and I am left believing this mission was to be some kind of whore. Except, other people are stil thinking about me attacking my mother, and I don't think of the Jason Debacle and the Mother Attack in the same mind frame ever.

Yeah, the woo leads to thinking errors. I tried looking back at the yahoo email, someone randomized or not randomized, I don't know the correct term, but the page changed as I was looking at it so I couldn't read the emails. They had been edited by Fickle Felines. Fuck, and that was such good journaling, too.

Anywho... I believe Jason and Emily are dead. And I do. I do.

I also believe the thinking errors regarding to woo made me not understand stuff like don't say anything about his sons. As I look back on my life, that is my biggest regret, besides saying actually all the fucking time and knowing why.

I thought I was going to be paraded as "Miss Best," when I started the mission. Instead, I was paraded as "Miss Skank." And I live up to that title but not with number of sex acts performed, which is few.

Anywho... I was write, in essence, only I get exposed for my flaw as well, which is being a sex addict. I say okay, fine. You know, over the years that go by, I talk down being perfect. Not that anyone is, but can't you be happy not being the best soul? I thought about that issue, and don't judge me I'm not saying a lot about it. But we all coexist and also be friends, like me and Crystal.

What else? I am a mutant.

[Abrupt Ending]

Communing with the Terrorists: What did you tell them, Rachel?

The American people need to know! -Ian

Well, to set the scene, I was living at Pearl House in the summer of 2022 and feeling devastated but determined to continue, over Jason and Emily trying to force me to kill myself with black magic atttack after attack. I got a loud probe from the terrorists, and this had never happened before, but I had been chatty with the witches so I got a little bit chatty with the probe as well. At the time, I was in the shower washing my hair as I thought about what I wanted to say to the terrorists and projected the right thoughts. My spirit guides had told me previously, "leave the Muslims alone." They caught me at my darkest, most lonely hour. Actually, it wasn't literally my darkest hour, but I was starving for some sort of social recognition or "juice." As I washed my hair, I chatted and pointed out the blunder: We worship the same God though. Christians and Muslims worship the same God. And then I thought of something I had been thinking recently, which was it was the atheist worldview that makes me think that the Prophet Muhammed was a false prophet, what if God sent both Jesus and the Prophet Muhammed? I joked with the prober, don't know who this was I imagine that searched and found their most gifted spiritual authority to probe me... I don't know why Americans got so upset at a Middle Eastern network for editing a picture of Michelle Obama with her shoulders exposed so that she was wearing a dress with short sleeves. Funny, dumb Americans. Recently I had communed with the deceased spirit of Osama Bin Laden, before he went down a dimension for being a dangerous soul. He had made jokes and I laughed, warning me that the terrorists won't listen to you about world peace they would bomb Unity Hospital instead. He also told me that the terrorists despise America because of Anorexia. That's what he told Conscie at the time, I realized he said it this way for dramatic effect, on a subconscious level bulimia was "don't even get me started."

Anyway, so they caught me in a moment of weakness, and I could go on and on, but I kept trying to point out Allah wants world peace. World peace. World peace. I thought you know, why is that so hard to understand?

"And the rest was history." -Ian

In other news, I'll never be happy again, just wear a fake smile, after I finally researched what went on on Oct. 7, because I'm in a place where news is triggering to patients and we aren't always allowed to watch it. I'll probably perk up and smile cheerily, but I feel like puking. After I heard this story of a cheery looking and funny young woman being raped for 121 days, and that's twice as long as Fish Out of Water Psychology lasted and I hope that is of no relevance, and I don't know what else to say.

Energy Drink Programming Quiz

How bout it? said Alfred.

What the fuck Alfred... You are interjecting on to me right now?

Lick, slash, biscuit. Lick the brown sugar.

HATE! Puppy dog tail, quiet one.

REPEAT!

CLASH CLICK BOOM STICK UNSTICK

The LOVE cord is unbroken, charged, and attached to me. Lick, boom.

LiCk! -AlFrEd

If... Then Alfred, fuck me.

They went on to unstick the submissive word God did on Rachel prior to this lifetime. Yes they did, they did work on me.

Suicide For Hire Fueled by Hormonal Rage: Fan Fiction 2

Why? -New Witch We hate the way she acts and everyone hates her. - Aaron Good enough for me, she is terrible with taunting us she always flatters the witches. -New Witch But I love you.

Suicide for Hire Fueled by Hormonal Rage: Fan Fiction Idea

STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO CAUSE HER TO SPEW!!! -Aaron

But I want to, I want to, I want want want want to! -New Witch with Nasty Ab Problem

BUT I HATE HER, SHE'S SO MEAN! - Aaron

What didn't she do? What was it? You can tell a professional, like I am so serious about that, like oh my God. - New Witch (Shorten it to New to try to remember Rachel's New Guides, what happened to them?)

BUT THAT'S HER FAVORITE PASTIME!!!! -Aaron

What are you talking about? Orgasms? - New Witch

Blush, golly gee, you said the word. I command you say it never again. - Aaron

Okay, but if we get cake afterward.... -New Witch

Let them eat cake! Remember! Remember! -Aaron

Oh no, he's turning into Rachel and having Rebecca movie flashbacks.... Nonsense reasoning, not that! NOT THAT!!! -New Witch

Blip -God

The crash didn't happen, but it will, so the next mission is to forget. What? I don't remember...

$Rachel Zuhl Signature Style$