about my program that
this is what hopkins did
I was being reinvented that night they did that clamped catheter surgery to be a more pure and holy person
my son was being invented that night through the horrible, horrible multiple surrogate pregnancy experience
HOPKINS
magnetically dereailed all this
through it all my son will become a GREAT SAINT
THROUGH IT ALL, it all became mystical.
but not the clamped catheter surgery.
that became horrible and horrifying and because of that I will soon die.
these are the end times.
Jesus is born
12:43 two days ago.
things happen for a reason
HOPKINS WILL BE SUED FOR A BILLION
Please REDIRECT YOURSELF HERE TO THE FULL WORDS OF THE BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC, 1873, MUSIC AND LYRICS, LEE GREENWOOD VERSION
They did it with malice aforethought I now know.
So, the other day, I ditched the computer program that generated two-paragraph essays on input poetry that I wrote in PPL for an introductory computer programming course in college. Because I thought that I had to.
I saw that it became a black pearl to toss to the Navajos like a pearl among proud pigs, and became a black hole in the sand like a created a desert.
Similarly, the 9-11 crisis, a huge black pearl that ripped a hole in Muslim tradition, went to the Amazon rainforest, specifically, Brazil, and created a vast, sympathetic crater there.
Another casualty of the HOPKINS MALPRACTICE.
This is how big it was and this is why it is A BILLION DOLLAR LAWSUIT.
(Meanwhile I was thrashing away inside my head under the pain of the clamped catheter surgery and for 27 years, Hopkins just kept me there.)
And that is why this all happened.
And now I am dying.
This is the end times.
Things happen for a reason.
My name is Lynne, Which means light.
My father finally revealed to me today that my middle name, which I ditched a long time ago because I only knew it meant war, like Helen of Troy, ALSO MEANS LIGHT. Which PUT EVERYTHING BACK INTO PLACE FOR ME.
Or began to.
Now I am slowly beginning to heal.
He, also, was horribly harmed by the Hopkins malpractice.
Yesterday was a day of extreme imperfection.
Today is Sunday, a Holy day of healing and prayer for me particularly.
The Lord is finally lifting me off of that horrible, horrible place.
Now it is not so horrible any more.
It was awful. But it is not so horrible any more.
It’s about the Indians.
There’s nothing left of them.
All we have is smoking.
All we have is smoking.
All we have is smoking.
They are just smoke.
They are just smoke.
They are
But, now, I have restored the oomputer program that magically created two-paragraph essays on input poetry like a magnetic bubble.
It will magically regenerate things.
These will be healing times.
These are the end times.
These are the end times.
These are the end times.
Jesus is here!!!
I saw him walking!
Un.Bon.Mot 