My one concession to badassery.

Today.

Sitting at the computer. 

Astral agent swoops in from nowhere/somewhere and takes my hand. I have asked only those who love me and come in love and the highest intention to do this. (You will know why in a moment.) 

Agents "in the field" on all sides potentially have access to my bioenergetic field to access the "living library" of knowledge that I have. And if you want it, you can have it too. But only if you come in love. Genuine, true, faithful love that harms no one.

If not, this is what happens and what will happen to you when you try to access knowledge from my data bank from now on:

Agent: I don't love you, but I have come to take information. (Grabs my hand)

Me: Congratulations, you have just been infected with a nanobot tracker that will monitor and locate you and your every move. Now get the fuck out of my house, bitch.

And scene!

You can thank the silent partners behind this for that clever invention. And yes, this technology I am referring to is vast and yes it accesses even the Akashic field. Don't ask me how it works, but it does. I have no idea of the mechanics of it consciously.

He reacted as if I had just lit his hand on fire. Of course he called me a fucking bitch (I take the epithet as a compliment coming from someone like him) and fled immediately. Now he will be tracked ruthlessly, repeatedly and continually as I have by people just like this man. He will be tracked and identified now by some of the world's scariest people and if necessary, hunted down like a dog and taken out if he continues to be a bad boy. At the very least, he will continue to be interrogated and hunted like I have been for years now. He will in fact, get a taste of his own medicine. And his colleagues and their colleagues as well are now suspect to these preliminaries as well. God help him if he is to be interrogated by these wildcats. For they are as fierce as they come. I liken it to prisoners not taking kindly to the kiddie molesters in jail. Those types don't tend to last long. 

Anyway, any more takers?

The only thing I asked of my friends behind the scenes (and some in front of them) is to not show me how the sausage is made. (And make no mistake. This man who came to me was a ruthless spy killer who has done in many, many people and who would not hesitate to take you out for a little money or even less. He has also repeatedly tortured me and others like me in the astral plane for goofs and giggles many a time. He drinks beer and watches TV while he does it.) 

 I told you that this would happen. I told you that it would not be me who does the deed, either. I told you that you would have to answer to someone other than myself. I told you. And you wouldn't listen. 

Access my living library if you must, but only with the true and pure loving intention of the highest sort. 

Otherwise, you too are ready for The Cleaners.