Research has led me to one site that links Morgellon’s to, not only strange, colorful fibers, but also a fungus-like growth called “biofilm,” with plastic properties, which covers the skin. It is extremely strong, does not look like skin, and I cannot remove it.
One writer called it part of a “cyborgian” evolution the Controllers of the Planet are technologically enforcing on us, with some of their former subjects now being used as first test subjects for this. Crazy, huh?
I was trying to remove the film with dermabrasives, enzymes, baking soda, and vinegar; nothing works. It’s like I have plastic all over me.
Biofilm? – covers my face and seems to be beginning to “shine” all over me, reflecting light when photographing, as if my skin were plastic).
It doesn’t show to the naked eye, and seems to be a matrix for other things growing through it.
Fungus on the skin leads to cancer – according to another author – and some of cancer images I found online look like some of the thousands of weird things I’ve photographed on me, like these little red raspberries, which the site identified as a “fast-growing” cancer, and which I’ve photographed about six times on my scalp. Hmmmm. [A glitch in cyborg design to kill their product?]
I’ve spent lots of money on supplements and herbs and organized it all into a daily routine. I’ve always kept sugar to a tiny fraction of the standard American diet, but – it’s weird – I’ve been craving it. I recall I’d read long ago that microorganisms can actually convince our brains that we need something like sugar, and so I’ve been struggling with that – so yesterday I emptied most of the sugar out of the camper and gave it away.
I’m scrubbing (as much as I have energy for) and sunning (when the weather’s good and I’m feeling well), and praying (when I “can”), but I am not certain I’m getting better.
I can’t get help from the medical establishment because doctors don’t want to talk about this “controversial” disease. Why? Well, history says doctors have often been involved in top-secret experiments, and they certainly act like it now.
Each one who learns I have a digital microscope and can record my photos and watch my progress has seemed a little perturbed, as if now they know they can’t bullshit me in the usual way. No one yet, MD or ND, has acted normal, except for the one who honestly said, “This stuff scares me. I need to refer you out.” So.
Yesterday the News announced that hospitals across the nation are now short-staffed and their space overwhelmed, and so all other medical care will be compromised – and for example they mentioned people with chronic diseases – like cancer.
Is this whole thing designed to execute Kissinger’s prophetic statement about our world needing a 95% die-off?
So they invented something to mostly kill the old and infirm. Strategically, that would make sense and be a good start. Better than war. Plague.
I’m over sixty, so Kissinger would have me die. No doctor will give me a blood test to begin any internal treatment. So, I’m wondering if I’m supposed to go soon.
I’m in the pristine, pure desert though! Only have to spend a couple hours in town, one trip each week, to empty my tanks, shower, get water, buy groceries, maybe visit the library, then back to the desert to relax and watch the birds.
And scrub, prepare good food, take my medicines, rub stuff on me, enjoy camp mates from a distance, enjoy solitude, and wonder if I’m really supposed to try to heal this biofilm and fibers and spirochetes.
(So daunting! They’re elated to syphilis! – shades of the syphilis experiment they did for a decade on the Black men of Tuskeegee – the experiment for which the government was shamed into finally admitting and paying settlements. At it again, this time with activists.)
And keep on trying to heal myself as a mind control subject too? Sheesh.
Or (that was just one alter talking) heal myself through prayer? Ask Jesus to heal me? (I have been.)
Maybe this is when I’ll be pushed to such absolute lows that I’ll trigger some strength or knowing and transform myself into something new, spiritual, and healed – ?
Seems like a pretty big order for an old lady, which I’m really beginning to feel these days, grunting and huffing sometimes just to move around.
Feels like, if Kissinger wants 95% to die, I can’t think of much of a reason to say it shouldn’t be me. Ya know?
But I’ll definitely ask that friends and family keep me out of the hospitals! Away from doctors! But let my friends with healing talents come sit with me, help me deal with pain.
The deadly part of this disease is the spirochetes. (That’s why I’ve been so focused on getting a blood test.) They invade the brain, nervous system, and heart. I hope the heart is attacked first.
But if it’s my brain, we’ll have other issues, and I pray for everyone’s kindness, and again to be kept away from doctors or anyone who could be pretending to help but really be another targeter.
That’s why, for awhile, I was thinking the coronavirus might be a faster way to go. But I’m not chasing it – and I no longer believe it’s actually a virus causing the problem. And I don’t believe I’ll live or die according to what I do; I believe my controllers will decide.
Further, I am not philosophically persuaded that I understand everything in this multi-dimensional world well enough to make that sort of radical decision, to die or not. When my angels or family and friends over there make themselves known to me and call me over, then maybe.
Till then, I’ll sit in the beautiful desert or forest, greet the trees and flowers and birds each day, and move when the weather persuades me.
My YouTube channel has videos of my Morgellon’s at:
I’ve been documenting the weird protrusions from my skin for about a year now, and some of the items that people want to call hairs, just aren’t.
Some appear to be fungus, others appear to be bacteria. This one with knobby joints along its length has long fascinated me. Some of the tips have a fine, crystalline point; others seem brush-like. And they often have a swollen base, though this one doesn’t.
The diagram below can be found on a few Morgellon’s websites. I’ve recognized none of the organisms below – though the largest one has features I’ve noted all year long: the knobby stem and the “brush-like” tip.
The large body at the other end is probably what’s under the skin, causing the bulges at the base of each and the inflamed spots all over, as in the next photo of mine, not as highly magnified.
Under magnification, the “hairs”/stems are knobby and the tips are either brush-like or have fine, crystalline points.
I believe these are fungus, and I’ve begun an anti-fungal diet, which I’ll post about next.
Of course, fungus is only one part of this disease. (What’s the little orange blob on the left in the photo above? I have a whole collection of weird blob photos I’ll post soon.)
There are also the spirochetes to deal with (sorry about the high drama in this artwork) – which can enter the brain, nervous system, and heart – which I’m concerned has already happened, judging by my sometimes-foggy brain, trembling fingers, and ongoing ulcers breaking out – though my ulcers are tiny compared to this picture.
(People without microscopes can’t see what I see, so they let their symptoms go longer until it gets this bad. I’m so sorry! If you’re concerned, get yourself a digital microscope online!)
And finally, the weird fibers, which many people believe are nanotechnology – and I have enough experience to have personal evidence that I believe it may indeed be true. I’ll post about that later.
(Sure am wishing doctors in America weren’t in on the targeting so I could get a blood test instead of being given a delusional parasitosisdiagnosis, sadly.
Look at this pink fungal fruiting body! On my scalp.
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Last night I woke at 1 am and since I couldn’t sleep, I sat up and asked my Spirit Help what they might want me to hear, as They often wake me at night for things like that.
Morgellon’s was a spiritual battle, they said – like everything else. Yes, I’m supposed to keep my diet clean and sugar-minimized, and keep sleeping well, and getting sun, but I’m also supposed to be talking with the spiritual beings around me who can also deal with the fungal beings in my skin – on this realm and others.
On this realm, I was also encouraged that simple products could help change the ecosystem of my skin even more than essential oils. Online this morning, I read that using vinegar to create an acid environment could diminish the fungal aspect of Morgellon’s. And so I’m beginning….
…That was a week or more ago and that’s as far as I got. I never put on vinegar after the first day! What’s wrong? Mind control? Sheesh.
Okay. I don’t need to be as gloomy as I was last post.
Going for the vinegar now.
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I was going to share some of the jokes I find myself telling on good days, about becoming part mushroom (which I read later Joni Mitchell has also said about her Morgellon’s) after I saw what appear to be “fruiting bodies” growing out of my chin after only 24 hours without scrubbing and ointments. And maybe I’d share about this balance of living with a whole host of parasites preparing me to see other realities.
Instead, I picked up my digital microscope to check my skin which I’m too tired to scrub.
First I went looking for the two holes I found yesterday in my upper left arm with a handheld 10x lens but hadn’t taken the time to look at with the better, save-able digital microscope until today. They’d looked like very fine hypodermic holes, and finding them on the day of a Full Moon when I felt tired is not typically a surprise; maybe that’s why I just couldn’t pick up the microscope that day – subconsciously too depressed from something done to me in the night. Today, they seem to have neatly closed and I can’t find them. Fine.
Nearby, I found a larger, but still tiny red spot that bled when I ran my fingernail over it, but showed no blood under the microscope. I don’t have any idea what this is. But there is a “cup fungus” (I found online) that lives in skin and produces blood-red, oddly shaped cups – similar to what I find all over me.
Next I looked at my chin and found this fruiting body reaching out, catching the LED light in its translucent outer layer, with other, “common” anomalies which might be part of the natural human skin ecosystem, but I don’t know, as doctors seem loathe to discuss it.
On my left cheek, I found more “common” (to me now) weirdness, with another fungal fruiting body (I assume, and am open to correction) with its dark tip alongside this strange item which I think is a typical tangle of Morgellon’s fibers. I’ve had lots of single filaments, but not that many wads of them.
focus on the fungal fruiting body with dark tip
focus on the suspected small tangle of fibers
I want to scrub my face, my ears, my back, my chest, my arms, my hands, my fingers, my legs, my toes, but it all takes so much energy. Two weeks ago, I paid for my last shower and decided to take all future ones in my camper, not because of the money ($6-20), though that helps, but because I felt under pressure to get it all done within a reasonable period of time, but I lost energy and always did a varying quality job. By bathing in my rig, even though I’ll use more water and propane and have to go into town more often, I can bathe a little of me at a time. I might do my face and genitals in the morning (though I didn’t today, kept putting it off), then neck and arms mid-morning, then torso after lunch, then legs in afternoon, and face and genitals again at night (always scrubbing hands and nails before and after washing each section of me). Just thinking about all that makes me exhausted.
These days I find myself holding my breath worse than ever, wondering why some part of me is starving my heart and brain and everything else. Well, I don’t actually wonder, I know. A few parts of me don’t think it’s worth being around anymore, and I understand. But I think I/we am/are supposed to be here. But that part of me that wants to breath can’t seem to overcome the others who don’t – sometimes. Like today.
I have vegetables to cook, cilantro to wash and prepare, things to organize, receipts to put in my bookkeeping, and I just don’t feel able to focus on those tasks. I did get the dishes done today, left from yesterday. I cooked a healthy, no-sugar-of-any-sort breakfast (then followed it with a chocolate truffle!), and emptied part of my gray water tank, only because I was forced to. It’s raining so I can’t walk, which is fine, as I’d only feel guilty or sad on a day like today because I have no energy.
Sometimes I think my spirit helpers helped me get the infection, to help me leave this life as I’ve sometimes said I wanted to – but I really believe it’s the mind controllers who gave it to me. Here’s my theory on that:
I started life as a mind control subject and still was when I “ran away from home” at age 19, but suddenly they had to treat me in a manner for which they hadn’t planned; they had to respond to activities I chose that they hadn’t chosen for me, so they had to adapt their programs. Twice they got me married to other mind control subjects who were able to exert impressive control, but I left each after about 9 years and have been single for the last 27 years.
After my separation in 1993, I – didn’t know it but recognized it later – was put on the “Targeted Individuals” list. I was gang stalked and sabotaged in everything I tried to do, unless the Controllers determined it could be useful to them.
When I lived remotely as a hermit, my experiences felt like science fiction coming from the nearby Fort Huachuca, a (the?) major American intelligence center, also associated, conspiratorially, with aliens. Besides all that, someone destroyed my computer and socially sabotaged me so that I could not work.
In debt, with no clear future, I sold my hermitage and moved to a small town, and my experiences of aliens and UFOs ended; in their place, anomalies left traces suggesting high-tech medicine and electronic warfare testing. Each experiment felt new, none repeated (that I was aware of), all interesting, disconcerting, exhausting, and not as fearful as I philosophically thought it should be.
In one terrible event, I became conscious with a body memory of some disease organism being technologically implanted in my body. In the next two years, I would begin to wake up with a painful scalp I described as feeling “like someone pulled me around by my hair all night,” and another sensation I described as “like someone had pounded the soles of my feet.” The disease would be diagnosed only 5 years later, and I’d find ulcers and fibers growing out of my scalp and fibers growing out of the soles of my feet.
This last phase of my life since I fled my home to travel permanently may have been concurrent with my demotion from military test subject to simple victim for punishment. At least three times I’ve been led unknowingly to attend Satanist gatherings on the Full Moon and woken up disabled for a day or two. I’ve witnessed many endless common people working for Operation TIPS doing drive-by harassment and such, many business owners who mysteriously treat me abominably, and finally, a new variety of electronic harassment.
My value to the mind control organizations I assume has diminished, so that they don’t care now whether I’m killed or not. Someone did something to my truck two years ago, which I documented and thought about a lot, but didn’t have looked at, then my trailer mysteriously fishtailed twice on flat road and then on a hill flipped me over, totaling my truck and trailer home and giving me a whiplash and concussion. Did they intend exactly that? To terrify and hurt me badly, but not kill me? Or did they not care, maybe even took bets on the outcome? I don’t know.
I’m not as controllable (I assume/hope), and can imagine they’re angry at me for documenting their damages and might want to punish me for it. As authoritarian types always have.
I could try to be “good”; I did for so much of my life, when I believed the American dream. But I don’t anymore. I remember now the sexual abuse in my home, my church and strange places I was taken. I remember learning about money, and hating it, because it was exchanged when I was abused. When I learned about Capitalism, it made me extremely sad for the world, and I thought, “This just cannot work.” I’m a failed mind control test subject – at least failed to some degree.
But I’m not sure I have no value to them anymore. I do wake up at least once each month having slept 11 hours and feeling so exhausted I can’t do anything but feed myself, and I have a dreadful feeling my amnesia occured because I was with them or they were in my home the previous night. Was I actually doing something for them? I’ve had impressions of being used to do remote viewing in an altered state as late as 2014. I’ve wondered if I was used sexually. I’ve wondered if I was used to help groom little girls for this work, which breaks my heart the most. I’ve also “glitched” once, and an alter took over who knew how to assassinate and was thrilled to have the opportunity “after such a long time.” Who knows what I might have done all my life!?
Or are they just doing maintenance these days – checking my heart, testing my blood, seeing how their old subject is?
Or are they monitoring the fascinating disease they gave me in 2014?
Six years after that 2014 event when I believed someone intended to inoculate me with disease – and I “forgot” about it all this time – I’m categorizing types of fibers, photographing them, adapting my life, but feeling like I’m losing the battle. Maybe I’m not. I’ve had angels come heal me before. They could come again.
It feels great to write these things, to make a record. But I really should get up to bathe.
I’ll put water on the stove (far more efficient than lighting the 6-gallon water heater), close the camper door (it’s been nice to have it open all morning), turn on the space heater, close the blinds, lay towels on the floor, get out the body scrubs, put on a movie, and begin with my face.
It’s so much trouble, and if I have the energy to do it, there’s no energy left for anything else. Realistically speaking, not emotionally, it just seems like I’m going to die. And eugenically (!?) speaking, I think I should. As a wimp, I don’t want to suffer. As a person defending her sanity against doctors and her self-esteem with a family that doesn’t want to believe her, I don’t want to deteriorate as predicted by this diagnosis.
So I’ve joked I should go volunteer at a local hospital and hope to catch Covid19.
On the other hand, if I’m still useful to the Controllers, I’m not sure they’ll allow me to die. I have an implant in my heart and, for all I know, they’ll keep me alive to watch the disease develop (like they did with the Tuskeegee Black prisoners who were given a related spirochete, syphilis) and thereby torture me for my sins. But maybe not. I can hope.
If I live, I still have so many other unpleasantries of old age: missing teeth, malocclusion, failing eyesight, and forgetfulness (and we hope it’s not Alzheimer’s); but worst is not old age but the technology mind controllers put in me over the decades. I have documented implants in my heart, g-spot, alongside my clitoral shaft, on my left scapula, 6 in my teeth, 2 in my ears, and I believe there could be more. They can be used to move my whole body or vibrate a part, make me nauseous and anxious, immobilize me, shift my consciousness off and on, turn on other programmed alters, and more. Even if I could heal my Morgellon’s and get my teeth fixed, who would want to be subject to the rest of what I live with? No one.
But if my controllers seem to be trying to kill me, then I wonder whether they’re not using me in any significant way anymore. And that would be an excellent understanding, in a way – to be killed instead of mind controlled. Thank you. But I’m not sure of anything.
I don’t mind dying if they don’t string it out too long and painfully. Ironically, though, my daily scrubbing efforts might be helping me live longer, and that’s not really what I want. I should serve my own needs better, and help shorten this eventuality. Yeah, that’s the only thing that makes good philosophical sense. I should just let it take me over.
Unless I’m supposed to be here still for something.
Back and forth, back and forth.
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This is the one of the 3 worst spots with a quantity of mystery fibers.
Many days lately I’ve felt too tired to bathe. I monitor my Morgellon’s Disease with a digital microscope and see fungal and spirochetal co-infections growing wildly all over my face or other places just one day after a good scrubbing.
I also find all sorts of anomalies that match various Internet photos of fungal infection or skin cancer, including many on my scalp and elsewhere that look like little red raspberries called “most fast growing.”
Many days, I can only wash my face and genitals but just don’t have energy to wash any more. In the last few days, I’ve found new patches of fungal-looking growths all over my ears and the back of my neck where I’ve not seen them before – and I despair that I don’t have the energy to address them. To lift my arms for that long, and rub abrasive back and forth just sounds like too much energy to expend all over my ears and neck and every crevice and angle and above and below of every limb and my torso – just way too much.
And for what? So I can live a healthier life to be mind controlled against my will on a regular basis? No thanks. But still the irrational urge to live is still in me.
Spirochete related to syphilis. It’s striped, partially transparent, with knobs and bends, and it moves, but medical professionals glance quickly and say it’s just a hair.
The spirochetes are my main concern, as they can enter the nervous system, heart and brain. In the last month, I’ve noticed my hands trembling and fingers flicking my phone or my face without my intention.
My energy is so low I wonder about my heart, since I’ve already had “at least one” (according to a doctor) heart attack, and keep finding myself holding my breath, feeling weak and even like crying at the thought of a doctor-recommended treadmill “stress test,” which I don’t think I can do. And there’s a strange feeling under my skull, and I often feel unable to focus my mind for tasks I really need to do, so I barely keep up.
Besides bathing, I deal with this complex disease in a few other ways: excellent diet with little sugar, as much sleep as I want, moderate exercise as I feel able each day, sunshine, internal supplements, topical ointments, and prayer. I keep up with these well enough, but I just don’t have the physical energy to scrub every part of my body every day.
I’ve wondered whether to hire someone to bathe me (as if I could afford it or barter enough to pay for what would probably be at least an hour’s effort every day), or give up (intending to die), or try to increase all my other healing attempts so that not scrubbing won’t be an issue. Or maybe I should be on oxygen, so I’d have the energy to bathe myself. Some say I should quit all my efforts and just pray.
I dunno. I think about dying often, and I usually just feel relieved that the battle could soon be over. I feel a little sad for myself, but mostly sad for our whole world, run as it is by people who’d mind control us for their purposes and kill us with gruesome diseases if we weren’t useful enough to them. But scriptures says that’s what the gods have always done.
Hanging in there anyway ~
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First used digital microscope in May 2019 to investigate deep sores on scalp followed by deep scabs. Discovered this wound first:
Later found more scalp ulcers, this one photographed in October, 2019:
Also found ulcers on my face:
And this on the bridge of my nose:
Also, an ulcer in my vagina, with strange fibers in the open wound:
And fibers everywhere on my body:
Even emerging from the soles of my feet:
And this cluster of fibers seems to be contained in lymph and blood, picked off the tip of one of my toes:
And some of the fibers seem similar to hairs, but with strange features like blunt “heads,” jointed structure, and sometimes apparent independent movements:
Along the way I also found things that seem like photos of cancer I’ve seen online – little red raspberry-appearing things:
And I’ve found evidence of what I believe is a spirochete infection, on both my genitals and face:
Since the Morgellon’s controversy contains the story of a secret biowarfare lab working with spirochetes that got out of control, and because another historic controversy involved another spirochete, syphilis, tested on Black men in the forties, it is concerning to find spirochetes on my body and doctors refusing to look or test.
And because of the history of our nation’s biowarfare experiments on unwitting subjects, and my previous evidence that I’ve been used for other experiments, it’s especially concerning to find artificial elements like this yellow, six-sided bead that seems to be planted tightly on my scalp:
One evening when I hadn’t scrubbed my face in 18 hours, I found this apparently complex ecosystem growing on my chin, which thankfully could be scrubbed away:
And this seems to be a fungal infection on my face, according to a medical care provider:
Sorry I haven’t been able to post much. I’ve been dealing with extreme fatigue (another symptom of Morgellon’s) and inability to focus on the few days I have Internet access. Another possible development is that the spirochetes can move into one’s heart, nervous system and brain. Last summer, I took a 6-mile hike, climbing at least a 1,000 feet elevation, and felt fine. Today, I can’t walk a mile without exhaustion.
I’ve also developed a tremor or palsy in my hands! I’ve flicked myself in the face while falling asleep and tapped more unwanted items on my cell phone and witnessed my left hand trembling so bad I have to hold the phone against something steady to be able to use it – all symptoms of spirochetes moving beyond just the skin.
So when I have a hard time thinking and feel a fullness under my scalp I wonder if they’re passing the blood-brain barrier and invading my brain.
Sure wish the 2 doctors and 3 Naturopaths I’ve consulted would have taken this seriously. One did, and she said she was scared of it and referred me to out-of-state doctors. I appreciate her honesty. The two doctors, I assume, are in the secret network, aligned against us targeted individuals. The other Naturopaths might have been threatened, but couldn’t be as honest as the one.
Now I’m away from home and my health insurance plan just doesn’t work for nomads. So I’ve been waiting for two months for one Naturopath to send me an order for blood work, but his office hasn’t sent it.
Some days I feel like I’m dying slowly, eaten alive by fungus and spirochetes, my skin looking horrible under the microscope, my heart feeling fainter by the day, my hands occasionally trembling, no energy to scrub myself as often as I should.
Other days, I just feel better, or if I really need to do things, I “dissociate” well enough to enjoy productive days and some lazy days and visiting with friends. Here’s a photo to prove it:
I appreciate you caring.
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