The Illuminati Illusion: Beauty or Beast?

Written by Stevie Nicks.

You're not a stranger to me
And you are something to see

You don't even know how to please
You say a lot but you're unaware how to leave

My darling lives in a world that is not mine
An old child misunderstood out of time

Timeless is the creature who is wise
And timeless is the prisoner in disguise

Oh who is the beauty who the beast
Would you die of grieving when I leave
Two children too blind to see
I would fall in your shadow I believe

My love is a man who's not been tamed
Oh my love lives in a world of false pleasure and pain;
We come from difference worlds we are the same my love

I never doubted your beauty I've changed
I never doubted your beauty I've changed

Changed who is the beauty
Where is my beast (my love)

There is no beauty
Without my beast (my love)

Who is the beauty
Who my love

Where is my beast
My beauty my beauty

My beautiful beautiful beautiful
Beautiful beast

Writing Through Dark: Writing Wrongs

When I first started writing, the internet it became a substitute for human interaction. Aside from Pepe, the computer had become my next best friend.  Certainly better than any therapist I have ever seen. Writing through dark helped me to clarify and organize my thoughts.

My computer does not ask me stupid questions or blame me for taking too long to spit just the right words.

It does not mind if I stutter, take a break or tend to more pressing matters. The internet was simply another way to escape from the madness that surrounds me.

Before I knew to how to attach formatted, edited, spell checked versions of documents, I would often begin writing in cyberspace only to find that I addressed it incorrectly, or worse, copied the very last person I would want to know exactly how I feel.


There have been times when I have accidentally hit send a little too soon. When I review some of my past journal entries written online, it is easy to see the raw emotion that pours out of my soul into the physical world. There have been countless times I have found myself so completely caught up in the writing process that I get stuck to the keyboard for hours (sometimes even days) and yet there I am—- asleep at the keyboard— again!

Writing "live" can be dangerous—it is far too easy to come off as a raving lunatic who cannot hold one train of thought long enough to keep the web browser from timing out!

If only I could retrieve some of the messages that hit cyberspace...

Will I ever be able to coexist peacefully? Play well with others? I still work at my own pace— sometimes in my own world, always in my own head... I like to think I might flourish in some other man's world and tell myself I could exist in some other reality—but those who see through me know this is my last defense, and however sad, I must believe that if I am to go on.

However, be warned that I may, someday, somewhere, decide to stick around for a while. Could you be my neighbor? Would you be my friend?

Could you? Could I? Can I ever stop running and being afraid? What must I do, what I must learn, or who must I become to make you believe that such social grace and honest beauty have always come naturally to me?

When will this act ever subside? I developed an entire persona based on fear alone. How very sad. The cheerleader that never was. The child that never knew safety, peace, or security. A woman who existed in a world of silence— until now, I suppose.

Somehow, I must learn to embrace the fear. The fear of being discovered for the person that I am rather than the person I often pretend to be.

Regardless of the mask we put on when we go out in public, we all feel insecure, lonely, isolated, and afraid at times. Unfortunately, for me, I feel that way more often than not. I live with the kind of self-doubt that most people outgrow in early adolescence. The older I got, the more isolated I felt. Shouldn't I have outgrown this by now?

So now I have to become the person I used to be. The person I was meant to be. The person who existed long before the realities of life set in. Someone with hope, someone with a purpose. Someone who believed woman who existed long before the shadow of fear and failure ruled my every waking moment and took over the sleepless nights.

Yes, I can. Sometimes.

Fear.

Fear of believing that I deserved to be loved and never finding it. A human being entitled freedoms, and a woman who knows how to make choices. I am already stronger than I ever wanted to be.

I was blessed with strength.

Strength! Who the fuck wanted strength? Who wanted fear? Who wanted freedom???? There are people who love me-- they may not know it yet-- or may have forgotten me by now, but I need to stay put and live within my own skin again for a while just to see how feels.

Just stop running.

I have been challenged in ways that most people cannot even begin or understand-- and for me I must accept that there simply is no justice. So as I am, there is nothing that can replace what I have lost, not inside myself. I do not believe in revenge.

How ironic. How bazaar. Tragic. No one else cares. Who gives a shit? Why seek revenge for its own sake? How would that help? Nothing can replace what has been lost, not within myself.

But what if you are right??? What if--IF-- it is possible to let go of my anger? What will become of all that rage and turmoil I carry around with every waking moment? Can I exist peacefully within my own body? And what about the pain? I mean the hard the hard-core physical pain that hits me when I am most vulnerable? Can I live with the pain?

Can you promise me that it will have been worth it in the end? And, what if, after all is said done, I find myself to be an old woman with no friends, no ties, just a worn out memory of myself as I used to be—or who thought I might become. An old woman who lived far too long and too hard to realize that her act was done one-half a century ago.

Can you make it all worthwhile? Can you live with such responsibility?

Can I ever recapture enough of my former self to become a sexual being rather than innuendo? Can that person coexist in the same body that has brought me so much pain? Will anyone ever sift through the grime to find me? Will they ultimately feel it was just a waste of time? Will he hate me for it? Will he hate women as a result?

Can I ever learn to accept my physical pain without feeling compromised as a woman? Can I ever learn to accept my emotional mind without feeling compromised as a human being?

Do not tell anyone, but I can remember what it was like to enjoy sex. At what point can I allow myself to long for the sensation of human touch without being too optimistic? I don't want to get addicted. Sex will never be enough for me. I dream of loosing myself in a man's body. I dream about complete and absolute absorption.

I shall find mediocrity! Keep your labels interpretations and judgments to yourself. Control your need to soothe my fragile psyche or your need to "cure" me. I must find mediocrity. There in, I hope, lies the self. The everyday, the lull, the common person: rhythmic sanity and flattened affect. Dulled emotions and satisfaction. Satisfied, dull, boring, everyday. God—please!!! Where do I sign up?

Yes— okay— sometimes, it scares me to be so utterly alone, but what purpose does that serve? Even I know how despicable self-pity is in others and in myself. Especially for someone "like" me-- whatever that means! Great—so not only am I sad, but now I am feeling guilty too. And ashamed. And embarrassed. And Fear. And nothingness

Sometimes I wish others could understand the silent, peaceful, uncomplicated absolution that dawns with acceptance and resignation.

My goals have become so convoluted, yet here I sit, 13 years later, and my computer is still my best friend. My search for mediocrity continues. I am still looking for comfortable safety and a place of solitude before I can fulfill my "destiny"... to become whatever it is I was meant to be. Before I was reduced to nothing more than a shell of a person beaten down the Powers That Beat.

A journey on the road towards (Maslow's) self-actualization. Is it too late to build the strong foundations I lacked as a child? To feel secure enough in my physical surroundings and trust that my most basic needs will be met. Can I successfully transition into a world of unknowns without any understanding of the world as it is?

Maybe others have taken this path before me-- or maybe someday, someone might inadvertently wander into this sanctuary I call home. A place where nothing seems as it but exactly the way it is supposed to be.

Look at us-- who we are, what we do, and how we survive... all the people everywhere... All of us with limitless potential yet none of us know it-- irreverent disregard for what is real and complete disrespect for the rules that have thrust upon us.

This is the easy part-- restating economists and social scientists of days gone by-- so it is here that I can rest my head and my tired fingers. Why do I feel this shit? I actually *feel* this shit. As I sit and write (and eventually hit delete) I am bound to the streams of consciousness-- irate bouts of ranting and raving-- knowing how easy it is for people to silence such carrying-ons.

Upon writing my first piece ever-- a poem about motherhood, childhood, and the woman-child, my mother tried to have me committed. What a reality check! At 22, 1 put side my fear and wrote a simple poem for myself, to myself. It was straightforward, simple and direct, and almost landed me in an insane asylum. Are my words that dangerous? Are my feelings so far beyond the norm that I need to be removed from society altogether?

Yes, with a copy of my journal in hand, my mother's shrink showed up at my door-step to express her "grave concern" about my perception of reality. Not the first time, and it definitely would not be the last. As the years went by, I learned that my words would be used against me as a testimony to my madness. Only after years of therapy have I come to understand that it was not my words that were so dangerous, it was my ability to use them correctly. Perhaps it was not my sanity that should have been called into question...

I called my first piece, "On Not Being Able to Write." So simple, so eloquent, and so honest. After that little encounter, I learned about secrecy, symbolism, and self-censorship. I learned to write in riddles, live in puzzles, and think in circles. It kept others out-- but left me afraid. Afraid to be seen for who I am. Afraid of how my words were being received and how they would be interpreted. And now that things have come full circle, I am making a welcome return to honesty and a much needed reprieve from my riddles.

Let there be boundaries. Let them be impenetrable, secure, and bold. Obvious boundaries-- this is my path-- and you may not come with me. You must learn to find your own!

I think I shall buy a paint-by-numbers kit at the toy store. Simple. Impossible-but only because I can not paint!!!!

RE-WRITE RE-MOVE AND RE-PLACE! .hack//SIGN

The Company

My dad used to sing this to me when I was a little girl... 



Two years ago, I had never even heard of the New World Order, Illuminati Elite.

I lived a simple, silent, and honest life, yet still managed to pass as "normal" until I wast cast aside, shunned, humiliated and brutalized by friends, neighbors and police. They knew nothing of the secret society simply referred to as "The Company"

Apparently, I have something they want, dead or alive. They want both my secrets and my silence, but more than that, they want my genetic code.  

They know who my father is and obviously realize I know quite a bit about his activities in counterintelligence, cybercrimes, and high profile cases.

Cases that made him millions by defending the most notorious bankers, corporate criminals and corrupt politicians that are linked directly to the Rothschild fortune and the Illuminati conspiracy.

The 'Company' has showed more interest in the last few months than my father has in the last 38 years.

In a perfect world, I would find out that my father didn't just leave because he is too busy working, playing or doing whatever....

But the sad truth is, my father has gone to extreme measures to distance himself from my life. He has no concept of how his negligent behavior and management of my disability benefits have caused me in the real world. But he is best known for his fancy footwork -- keeping money hidden so it can be transferred from one bankster to another.

But in a perfect world.. I would find out that he did this because he knew of the danger that comes by virtue of having a family history that is deeply involved with the CIA and corporate elite. I would learn that he did this to keep me safe from the heavy hand of his corrupt colleagues at the CIA, the Illuminati elite and the New World Order.

This so called "Company" goes far beyond the USA, CIA, or his buddies on Wall Street.  It goes deep underground beneath the hidden tunnels of Egypt and Gaza and the Israeli Defense Force -- and even Mossad have contacted me in some form or another to let me know, "when we come to kill you, be prepared, because we are very good at terrorizing terrorists"

Clearly their secrets are far more important than my life..

I'm in deep.  Much deeper than I could even admit to myself until it became so obvious that I couldn't ignore what was clearly a conspiracy to either silence me, kill me, or drive me to the brink of insanity so that my credibility, mind, body and spirit were broken beyond repair. 

I can't believe that I to convince myself that surely these events were unrelated to what I know.  I wanted to believe they were random "coincidences" or the result of bad choices, bad luck, and random acts of violence complicated by systemic corruption.

I am ready to take my place in the world.  I am ready to become the "man" I need to be so that I can protect my loved ones from being targeted as well.

I have always been  a vocal advocate for the weak and underprivileged, but I have never been more determined to watch the elite fall from grace as they have watched one of "their own" brought to their knees.

I speak not only for myself, but for a few others who have had their lives completely destroyed and torn apart by wolves and sheep who simply don't see the full picture.

RB:  this one's for you...  you have nothing to fear, but I'm pretty sure you already know that. It is the rest of these sorry fuckers that needs to worry, because paybacks are a bitch.

My father once told a colleague that I may be the only person who is as smart or smarter than he is, and if that is true, I would do the same to my own children if I had them.

So, despite the "bad blood" between my father and I, I suppose I should say, "thank you, daddy-- for making me stronger than I ever believed I could be..."

#DMCA TAKE DOWN - The CONTELPRO Legacy: His story (and hers)

Daily dose of TM

StaTus: Halted in progress (yay me @ElyssaD)

I don't if know if you received this email. My netbook crashed as I as sending and it froze for 26 hours.

But I did the information for SafeLink program which is wonderful because my extremely "bazaar" and changes the cell service every few days without informing me. Tmobile will not provide information at all so I can't access email because they reset the password. Ironically, the ONE legal snafu with that little welfare phone...  the bitch fucked me there too... by claiming me AGAIN as a dependent in New York State.

As you know she claimed as a dependent on her tax returns without my consent or knowledge.

The IRS informed me of this breach since every time I went to file my taxed they were rejected by the IRS because it showed up a duplicate Tax (Social Security ID)

She claims that her accountant did and she knew nothing about it (if you could only picture my face and feel the sarcasm in voice as I am forced to repeat this information time and time again to any and all "agencies" who make inquired) she however does see this as a problem and refuses to file an amended return (cost $70.00) so once again I am rendered incapable of establishing independent (in every sense of the

word)

In addition, my father, well... Here we go...

My father as you know agreed to be my representative payee for Social Security disability. Obviously that was a big mistake on my part and has yet to be resolved. Congressman Cooper's office totally dropped the ball and said there is nothing they can do. I requested that reopen the investigation, and despite my persistent nice (which is both annoying and immense) they simply do pretend that I don't exist. Governor Bredesen sent an email telling me to call the President.

Seriously, are you kidding me?

So this is where we stand: no Social Security never received the money that received in ITOLA account during the months I spent sleeping in my car or at the lake last summer.

And yes. I did spend a week or so at "The Mission" when I ran out of gas, energy, and hope last August. My father still was receiving the money, but did not pay bills, or release to me in time to prevent the inevitable total disconnection of any and all services (utilities) making it near impossible to re-establish service. They required excessive fees for deposits and past due balances.

http://youtu.be/UkVtucGFaqc

HACKTIVISM 101

As per federal law, my father, Marc Durant is responsible for paying those fees as they were a direct result of his failure to act in my best interest but also a breach of fiduciary duty.

Now, to make matters worse, every time they seem to locate the paperwork it gets redirected to the Philadelphia field office. So The US Dept of Treasury located the funds that were never sent "in error" some bank account (probably in the Cayman's or wherever rich people go to hide there money ~ note both the sarcasm and the simple fact that this is most likely true. It is sad that even to put in these little side notes to even use the one things that through this mess...

Dark sarcasm and a little bit of humor. I'm sick of making excuses for these people (mother: Karen, and father: Leslie Marc Durant) so I am laying it down on the table for whomever it cares to question and blame me for this "unfortunate" situation..

These are the facts. And I need to take a break because my fingers are getting cramps and my back is in spasm.

But I will continue to "the facts" out as long so that I can be free of the constant struggle to be independent, self-sufficient and EMPLOYED! This is absurdity and I realize I have people who do see the obvious truth here. Yet in the real world and the everyday struggle to be "human" continues.

My mother will always be #batshitcrazy

My father will always be #abovethelaw

But I will not always have the strength or the ability to communicate effectively given my financial, physical and emotional reality.

I am aware. I am aware that this is too much for one person to handle and I don't blame those walk away in disgust and frustration because they don't understand the intricate details of the law or the immense emotional drama AND trauma that I face each day without resolution.

I understand that people need to believe that these are the ramblings of a mad woman. If that were true I would say by all means, give me the strongest does of anti psychotics asap. As I think most people are

starting to realize, unfortunately, these facts check out.

There is no treatment for the habitual and continued ignorance of the public at large.

It is not my job soothe them or educate them as in law, sociology, and "the world according to me @ElyssaD"

I do the best I can because I know how serious and pervasive certain components of my story ring true for a number of people.

I will do the best I can to fight that stigma and the emotional torture I live with every single say.

Godammit, I hope this thing sends. It is bad enough that I am typing all this shit on cell phone because AT&T wants a $450 non refundable fee plus $150 deposit, plus $49 for installation for internet.

So in the spirit of which it was intended:

View all

Get your own

Wishing myself luck. I know these words are dangerous to some, especially in light of the guy who got arrested for sending out a threatening tweet. Yeah, ~ insert sarcasm about here ~ if you think my words are "dangerous" than you need you deserve to be scared!

(Laughs to oneself as I know I am not a physical threat to anyone but let's face it, if you don't get it you never will. And if this is a lesson is Social Darwinism, let the dumb ones live in fear! And to quote (without permission or proper citation to be added!) But "If this tweet offends you, probably deserve it!"

 @icpchad Yes. I am aware. Now format this bitch and enter it into your contest. I deserve win something... Maybe an iTHINGY or iNTERNET. Not just iWANT that is a legitimate iNEED in the world I live in.

This is me, just me

@ElyssaD

View all

Get your own

---------- Forwarded message ----------

From: Elyssa Durant

Date: Tue, 11 May 2010 19:32:58 -0500

Subject: New Microsoft Office Word Document

To: elyssa.durant@yahoo.com, ELYSSA DURANT

Thanks Stacy... I had a hearing at Social Security about two weeks ago.

Very depressing. It cost $44 to or transportation, and they already reversed the decision now I have to go back again and file the same paperwork.

I have not received anything from Section 8 which has me concerned, and my I am a really difficult time with without internet, TV, transportation.... or even a library w/in walking distance.

Especially with the weather this weekend... I had no idea until I heard the sirens. and then of everything was closed... and in 'the hood" it is cash culture, so of course ppl became very aggressive [aka mean] fighting over bottle of water and at the gas station when they reopened.

my mother cancelled changed the password on the "family plan" after we had "words" regarding well... really nothing... but today has just been especially difficult since I don't have reliable phone service... which of course is both a security and comfort issue for someone who writes as a form of therapy..

I just received this alert on my computer email... I don't even know where to start...

I received the invitation to the info session on WIPA that you guys did...unfortunately transportation is problematic.

I have been receiving a lot of from people online... as silly as it sounds there are so many ppl isolated and lonely. So I found they have forums for ppl with PTSD and it has been very helpful to have eed back that I am not the only one feeling left behind in the disability movement.

Apparently I managed to reach a few ppl locally who call [my number is public] to ask if I had any success with the housing and re-employment programs. it makes me feel like I can be of some service to the community... social services just got hear so I need to sign off but I have received so many fraud alert that other people e.g., EFF and other human right agencies have started to ask about my story.

All I can say is that I did write a review online for the Center for Independent Living at disabilty.gov website when they were looking to for feedback on reemployment programs... I also had an article in USA Today and the Hufffington Post that made me hopeful and regret at the same time... this is a recent post i got tons of feed back on... it is long, but ppl really seem to relate...

Daily dose of TMI: May 13, 3010

Staus: Halted in progress

I don't if know if you received this email. My netbook crashed as I as sending and it froze for 26 hours.

But I did the information for SafeLink program which is wonderful because my extremely "bazaar" and changes the cell service every few days without informing me. Tmobile will not provide information at all so I can't access email because they reset the password. Itonically, the ONE legal snafu with that lttle welfare phone...  the bitch fucked me there too... by claiming me AGAIN as a dependent in New York State.

As you know she claimed as a dependent on her tax returns without my consent or knowledge. The IRS informed me of this breach since every time I went to file my taxed they were rejected by the IRS because it showed up a duplicate Tax (Social Security ID)

She claims that her accountant did and she knew nothing about it (if you could only picture my face and feel the sarcasm in voice as I am forced to repeat this information time and time again to any and all "agencies" who make inquired) she however does see this as a problem and refuses to file an amended return (cost $70.00) so once again I am rendered incapable of establishing independent (in every sense of the

word)

In addition, my father,

My father as you know agreed to be my representative payee for Social Security disability. Obviously that was a big mistake on my part and has yet to be resolved. Congressman Cooper's office totally dropped

the ball and said there is nothing they can do. I requested that reopen the investigation, and despite my persistent nice (which is both annoying and immense) they simply do pretend that I don't exist. Governor Bredesen sent an email telling me to call the President.

Seriously, are you kidding me?

So this is where we stand: no Social Security never received the money that received in IOTLA account during the months I spent sleeping in my car or at the lake last summer.

And yes. I did spend a week or so at "The Mission" when I ran out of gas, energy, and hope last August. My father still was receiving the money, but did not pay bills, or release to me in time to prevent the inevitable total disconnection of any and all services (utilities) making it near impossible to re-establish service. They required excessive fees for deposits and past due balances.

As per federal law, my father, Marc Durant is responsible for paying those fees as they were a direct result of his failure to act in my best interest but also a breach of fiduciary duty.

Now, to make matters worse, every time they seem to locate the paperwork it gets redirected to the Philadelphia field office. So The US Dept of Treasury located the funds that were never sent "in error" some bank account (probably in the Cayman's or wherever rich people go to hide there money ~ note both the sarcasm and the simple fact that this is most likely true. It is sad that even to put in these little side notes to even use the one things that through this mess...

Dark sarcasm and a little bit of humor. I'm sick of making excuses for these people (mother: Karen, and father: Leslie Marc Durant) so I am laying it down on the table for whomever it cares to question and blame me for this "unfortunate" situation..

These are the facts. And I need to take a break because my fingers are getting cramps and my back is in spasm.

But I will continue to "the facts" out as long so that I can be free of the constant struggle to be independent, self-sufficient and EMPLOYED! This is absurdity and I realize I have people who do see the obvious truth here. Yet in the real world and the everyday struggle to be "human" continues.

My mother will always be #batshitcrazy.

My father will always be #abovethelaw.

But I will not always have the strength or the ability to communicate effectively given my financial, physical and emotional reality.

I am aware. I am aware that this is too much for one person to handle and I don't blame those walk away in disgust and frustration because they don't understand the intricate details of the law or the immense emotional drama AND trauma that I face each day without resolution.

I understand that people need to believe that these are the ramblings of a mad woman. If that were true I would say by all means, give me the strongest does of anti psychotics asap. As I think most people are starting to realize, unfortunately, these facts check out.

There is no treatment for the habitual and continued ignorance of the public at large.

It is not my job soothe them or educate them as in law, sociology, and "the world according to me @ElyssaD"

I do the best I can because I know how serious and pervasive certain components of my story ring true for a number of people.

I will do the best I can to fight that stigma and the emotional torture I live with every single say.

Godammit, I hope this thing sends. It is bad enough that I am typing all this shit on cell phone because AT&T wants a $450 non refundable fee plus $150 deposit, plus $49 for installation for internet

So in the spirit of which it was intended:

Wishing myself luck. I know these words are dangerous to some, especially in light of the guy who got arrested for sending out a threatening tweet. Yeah, ~ insert sarcasm about here ~ if you think my words are "dangerous" than you need you deserve to be scared!

(Laughs to oneself as I know I am not a physical threat to anyone but let's face it, if you don't get it you never will. And if this is a lesson is Social Darwinism, let the dumb ones live in fear! And to quote (without permission or proper citation to be added!) But "If this tweet offends you, probably deserve it!"

 @icpchad Yes. I am aware. Now format this bitch and enter it into your contest. I deserve win something... Maybe an iTHINGY or iNTERNET. Not just iWANT that is a legitimate iNEED in the world I live in.

This is me, just me

e

@ElyssaD

View all

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Elyssa Durant, Ed.M.

Nashville, Tennessee

(615) 424-8810

"You may not care how much I know, but you don't know how much I care."

_________________________________________________________________

Posted via email from ElyssaD's Posterous

File under: Disambiguation, Crime, Social Justice / Human Rights; Crime, Crisis, Digital Divide, Cognitive Dissonance, Conspiracy