"Guitar Shop – Music 432 Hertz – Out of Auschwitz"

"Guitar Shop – Music 432 Hertz – Out of Auschwitz"


Forget your mansions, your fancy cars,

Forget your jewelry, your art collections

Forget your diplomas, your titles and medals.

Forget all your trophies.

Forget everything except WHO YOU ARE.

That is:

How many people you helped to be free,

Including yourself.

How many people you helped to be happy.

How many people you have enslaved?

How many peoples' life you made miserable?

Including your own.

That's who you are.

—“You forgot the quotation marcs.” Says Inspector Mr. I’vebeenthere pointing to the beginning and the end of Motto.

—“I didn’t. Unless I’m quoting myself, but thanks for pointing and remember

that all I’m facing is a fuel to make this Invocation successful.”


Behind the counter a man - pale swollen face, mustache hanging to his chin, throws me a toxic look which I dissolve by a vibratory shield of 432 Hertz I'm broadcasting with my mind.

"What can I do for you?" he utters without moving his mouth.

"That's pretty good! You can win Got Talent." I say applauding his ventriloquist routine.

"But today is a special day which will become your birthday. Today is about 'What can I do for you?'".

He keeps looking at me and moving his mouth like he is saying something, but the voice doesn't come out. It feels I'm watching a silent movie or we are in different timelines. Let see what happens next.

“Happens what?” He says as he is reading my thoughts and takes a step back.

“It happens that music frequency was changed. For thousands of years, maybe millions, humans were playing music in different frequency. It was based on Cosmic vibration that was harmonizing human structure. Somebody didn’t like that and they changed it.”

“Yeah, heard about it. It was that Verdi thing? Opera singers were saying that singing in this Cosmic frequency makes them feel good.” He says and puts a blank on his face like ‘who gives a shit’.

“That will explain the fact that when you expose water to this vibration, the water is forming a beautiful pattern. Very harmonious and symmetrical. When you change frequency like they did to 440, this harmony gets destroyed. Shattered. The singers must have felt that! Makes sense. We are made mostly of water. 78%. They could feel that harmonious pattern through the water in their bodies when they sang in that Cosmic 432 Hertz frequency! It’s fascinating! Thank you for telling me this.”

“So what it has to…?” He speaks without moving his lips but somehow I hear his voice like I’m talking with a heroin user. I hear the part of the sentence that he didn’t finish.

“…The fucking pickups are picking it up’.” I say. “It shows you what this change to 440 Hertz it’s doing to us. We are made of water. It must effect water in us that same way. Shutters the natural harmony and symmetry in us. 432 Hz is in a Cosmic harmony aligned with a molecular structure of life. Water is life. Sow when it’s being shuttered it you may think it’s a soft kill.”

“You are making a farfetched guesses.” He says with an emotional cramp in his eyes. “Anything else?” He adds and feels he is about to turn his back at me to walk away.

“But 500+ millions killed as a result of WW2. That’s not soft kill!” I throw at him looking between his eyes.

“What’s going on?” He touches his forehead and looks at his fingers.

“Music got weaponized. Is being used against us as a bullet.” I say.

“Is it a joke?” He flashes ironic smile with a quick evaluation he is talking with a crazy person. “Aha… Weaponized. Really? How did you get this idea?”

“Before WW2 music was played in a Cosmic frequency 432 Hertz. That’s the organic rate. A4 originally has 432 vibrations per second. A5 has 864 Hertz and so on; all other notes are in correlation with it. Music had that frequency. They fucked it up to fuck you up. That’s all.”

“What are you talking? A4 is 440 Hertz. See this?” He shows me a guitar tuner. “It’s here A4 440 Hz. It can’t be 432. It’s nonsense! Have a nice day.”

“Musical compositions are decomposing us played in 440 Hz. We suppose not to do it. Our bio field gets scrambled like that harmonic pattern you see on water.”

“You claim that all people are idiots who don’t know in which frequency they should play music. You must be really smart to know that. And now you come and teach the world in which frequency music should by played? Great mission. Wow! Congratulations! Ha ha ha.” He says with is genuine laughter enjoying his superiority over an idiot like me.

“It’s a tremendous undertake to make people to pay attention to what I’m saying, and for them to understand what it really means it’s like a brain transplant. What human mind doesn’t know the eyes can’t see, the ears can’t hear. But change is possible.”

“Just do it! Man, do it!” He is getting charged with energy; sparks jump over his pale, dead look.

“I wish to reach someone. Then it may become like a domino effect. It’s my optimism. Otherwise I wouldn’t talk with you.”

“You can make it possible. Sure” Says the guitar-repair man executing his talent of mockery. What to expect from someone who is a permanent victim of a mockery applied to him by the system. But I don’t want to ignore him. Such a man draggling over me can be a catalyst in a delivery of the message; he can be an antenna to universal consciousness without knowing what role he is playing in this dialog so I’m enduring his mockery. It can’t hurt me. It can only hurt him.

"I'm starting to get jealous of your round the corner fame. I can smell it's coming. Celebrated more then Mozart Bach Beethoven Jimmy Hendrix. Aha? You must feel that rush. How is it?" He says and wrinkles his forehead with exaggeration. "Society will recognize your genius. We are waiting for a leader. I'm sure you are the One. Go for it!" His cruelty has a feast.

“Thank you for being so kind to me. But… it’s a big…thick wall to break through.” I say with a serious concern which he translates as me being caught in his mockery.

"What's the problem. You don't want to get famous? Money, fancy cars, beautiful women. People will be crazy about you. You will be like the most celebrated guy in the world. The movie stars will get pale around your glory. Don't hesitate. Just go for it!" He says and hands me a pen and a sliver of paper from a cash register. "Would you please give me your autograph, Sir?"

“The whole trick is how to tell them how 440 Hertz is damaging the life on Earth? No one I talked to was able to comprehend that.” I say with a genuine concern that is fueling his sarcastic feat. My kindness taken for stupidity gives his a dragon look. A reptilian smile stretches his mouth ready to swallow a victim.

“Wow! I’m getting jealous.” He says distorting face with a grim fascination.

“I’m deeply concerned damage is already done. You are not the first one who reacts that way. When you realize music was weaponized to destroy humanity the world will become a different place. You’ll become a different person. You may start making money by playing guitars not repairing them. But you have to know it. Don’t believe what I’m saying but experience that. Think that this was done not only to music, but in multiple areas of our life. When you’ll wake up from that nightmare you may start playing your guitar as who you really are not by trying to copy someone like the last time I was here.”

“Why do you think I suppose to do that?” He says looking at me with a stark suspicion as if I was suggesting him to murder someone.

“It’s a hell of a punch line. Fascinating! Why to play guitar in a creative way like no one before?

“At least we can agree about something.” He picks up the screwdriver and he keeps it in his hand like a sword.

“It is difficult to call it agree because you are talking from inside of a bubble. The only way you can hear what I’m saying is to step outside that bubble and look at these two images.”

I show him a picture I have in my phone thinking this may bring him back from another dimension that is governing his mind.

"Here is water exposed to 432 Hertz. You see that beautiful pattern it’s like that Rosetta window in Norte-Dam Cathedral? And here this pattern is destroyed because the frequency was changed to 440 Hertz. This is an evidence how 440 Hertz destroys this harmonic structure."

“That’s why they burned down the cathedral to get ride of evidence.” He says with a fake confidentiality watching my reaction with squinted eyes.

“Maybe. Here is the info, if they didn’t censor it out already. I’m pointing at a link to the video “Music Has Been Weaponized Since the 1940s! 432 hz VS 440 hz!”

“Take this.”

“I’m not going to... I’m doing just fine. It doesn’t matter to me if the earth is a ball or pancake.” He says with a determination of a convict who is about to be executed.

“I’m not going to... I’m doing just fine. It doesn’t matter to me if the earth is a ball or pancake.” He says with a determination of a convict who is about to be executed.

“Sir you are so close. One look outside the bubble. That’s all what is needed and the whole world will change.” I say smiling with an excitement but behind that smile there is a darkest horror I going through over and over again when I talk with these people. It doesn’t matter who they are. My dearest friends, strangers… whoever…all of them… they become their own prison guards who locked themselves in that bubble… they absolutely can not take a step outside the bubble, like they are attached to that bubble by some satanic spell identifying themselves with that bubble afraid that if they step out of it they will vanish. He shakes his head and wrinkles his forehead signaling he is going to throw a punch line which will be devastating.

Looking me in the eyes like a parent who caught a child in some outrageous misconduct, he says without moving his mouth.

“I have been very patient with you, but I have to be frank with you, sir. You are delusional. It’s sickening” Saying that he shakes his head in an agreement with some invisible auditorium. Squeezing the screwdriver erected in his fist he stands tall and gritty to defend his satanic-bubble-jail to a last drop of blood. “I feel sorry for you but I can’t help you. Nobody can…” He adds looking at me with a highest scorn like at the roach he just crushed with his foot on a floor. “That’s the best I can do.” He says and squeezes his mouth together into a shape of a rectum.

A smell of his abusive attitude hangs in the air like sludge from a bottom of a sewer. It feels that rotten part of his brain just exploded. A smoke from his soul burned by 440 Hertz fills up the space.

“Why I am in this?” I ask myself and I get tears my eyes as I hear my inner voice: ‘In a name of Creation I must love these people so much.’

That’s for him like nectar of life injected by my tears he is mistaking for sorrow. He sighs with a relief. His face becomes like a billboard flashing a catch of a day: “Tears in his eyes! I got him pretty bad.” A triumph mixed with bliss takes over his biology. I think I can hear his heart pounding like a war drum. His voice gets an extra ambiance of an executioner whispering to a victim he is about to put out of misery, talking dirty during sexual act; all mixed in one perverted triumph. “It’s painful. It’s very painful. It has to be painful.” He thrives. “You have been a bad-boy and you are getting what you deserve. Do you like it? It’s time to get out of your La-La-Land. You have been living there for too long.”

His avouchment is an orgy he is having as a torturer.

I think I suppose not to be feeding his cravings of lowest chakra. Absolutely not what I want people to become. For a fraction of a second in my mind flashes to grab that screwdriver from his hand and plunge it into his throat. But I know this is not my thought. I feel like I’m reading his mind.

“Look at my necklace!” I pull out a tuning fork I’m wearing on a silver chain around my neck. “You know what it is?”

“I can decapitate all your illusions, sir. It’s nothing else but a tuning fork for tuning the instruments.” He says with in ventriloquist manner.

I want to kick him in the ass so hard that he’ll fly to Saudi Arabia for his decapitation act, and this time it’s my emotional response, but I’m not going to. “I have more important mission’ I say. “This is not a usual tuning fork. It is a real, original A4 in a Cosmic frequency of 432 Hertz. You have been right about La-La-Land. Note A is called La.”

“Why it is so smudged?… was in a fire, did you find it in a ground?”

“I made it that way. This fork was falsified into 440 Hertz by the New World’s Order agenda that was a result of WW2 and imposed on humanity by UN’s ‘democracy’. One of their operations was 440 Hertz rule designed to disrupt human bio-sphere. Who those UN agents are working for it’s another subject not to be presented for you in the state of consciousness you are now. Definitely not before putting your mind through a heavy detox.” I say and I slam the fork against a counter and then I place its round tip on his forehead.

He starts listening to the sound turning his head to a side like dogs when you ask them if they want to eat. I can hear his intestine moving before he releases a high pitch fart.

“What you hear now is original Cosmic A4. I'm not talking about your fart I mean this.” I say pointing to the fork I’m holding to his forehead. “But like for a fart it was pretty in tune.”

“Looks like it was burned and why it’s bent?”

I heated it in a fire and I hammered it until it got stretched and its frequency expended to 432.”

“Man! You are crazier then I thought. You are dangerously crazy.” He says bewilderd like he is taking off his sarcastic mask. ”You want me to join your madness? Fuck man! It’s too much.”

“Let’s put it from your perspective. That means we all were crazy as long as humanity exists and we were playing music in frequency 432 for zillions of years. But just before WW2 started the Nazis implemented different frequency – 440 Hertz – this frequency destroys that harmony of water molecules which 432 Hertz creates. Remember we are 80% water. The criminal cabal behind the curtain that controls the governments which are like a franchise businesses, like McDonalds, which are administrating the facilities called ‘countries’, where they are farming humans for slavery and fuck knows for what wicked purpose this farming is going on… but they discovered that music played in 432 Hertz makes people calm and connects them with their higher self; people become harmonious and feel good about themselves. But 440 Hz makes people, pissed off for no reason, annoyed, irritated like they need to kill someone.”

“Wait a minute!” He says raising his hands putting them like a fence between him and me. “I’m not in this category. When I kill an ugly hamster is not because I want to. I have to. They carry diseases.”

“Yeah. Hostility and hate always find a noble reasoning but the directions are screwed up. What about bio-weapons? What about those who create pandemics are? And housands of biolabs making tools for genocide? You don’t notice that? This is exactly a population they needed for a war machine. Victims who are murdering each other calling it freedom and democracy. When you move way from frequency of LIFE you find yourself in frequency of death. That’s why they made up a law that music is going to be played in frequency 440 Hz. It was one of the tools to create WW2. Messing up peoples’ mind. The results were astonishing. Death toll got very high. 440 Hz was very effective. They noticed that it works pretty good so when WW2 ended United Nations passed a ruling that all over the world all music will be played in 440 Hz like under war time. That’s how music is being played and we are dancing to it and having endless wars since then.”

“What would be a purpose doing it?”

I can’t figure out if he is such a moron or his ego is kicking to prove me wrong or it’s a symptom of brain damage caused by the killer 440 Hertz frequency.

“Don’t you see the connection? If you make people agitated, disturbed, confrontational it putts them in conflict syndrome. Being in a conflict they become easy to control. ‘Divide and conquer’ technique. In general it makes them stupid enough to do what they are told. That’s all.”

“And…? What…? Why telling this to me? Who are you?” He barks with irritation, very confrontational and disturbed like he wants to show me what 440 is doing to him.

“You are just one of billions. I feel really sorry and helpless but I don’t give up.” I say as nice and calm as I can.

When I realize how population has been abused by all the lies, deception and toxicity inserted in them I developed a staggering compassion. I stopped being angry when people abuse me when I open a gate to their mental prison. This poor fella is trying to protect a jail he is in from being destroyed like it’s his Paradise, his life and his happiness. His heroic stand out displayed in front of me multiplied by billions of prisoners like him it’s a hell of a syndrome called ‘humanity’.

“You are a musician.” I say. “And this is about music that is forming peoples’ realm, their emotional identity. You said music is your life. I think you should know the facts. This can encroach upon your life in many ways.”

“I heard about it. Once I tuned my guitar that way. Sounded kind of interesting, actually it felt good. But what’s the point?” He says impatiently poking with a screwdriver at the counter.

“440 Hertz damages the molecular structure of water in our system. That’s around 80%. That cosmic harmony in our bodies is gone. The whole humanity gets like on steroids. Agitated. Offensive. Looking for a conflict. Ready for a war. The society can’t calm down. People have to be narcotized, intoxicated, dazed. When the cosmic harmony gets scrambled the life turns into sickness. People want to escape. That’s the drag culture. Substance abuse. All that for a purpose of control.” I say with a quiet voice at that same time being aware of screwdriver flipping in his hand.

“You’re accusing government?”

“Most of the governments are as damaged as everybody else and totally unaware. Plus they don’t make any decisions. They are just actors reading a script. It’s a franchise operation like McDonalds. Sure they have disputes but this is a theatrical performance for the masses. Backstage they all stick together to that same main agenda of keeping population confused and misinformed, intoxicated and hypnotized. May be the most damaging is a lie about most fundamental truth that can be noticed by human senses; truth that you see with your own eyes, and you detect by your mind and by logical thinking. But they programmed you that your observations are wrong, that your senses are wrong. They will tell you that you are spinning with 1000 miles per hour, that’s a double speed of commercial airliner. But you don’t feel any spinning. They convinced you that your feelings are wrong. Everyone got forced to believe that their senses are wrong. This lie creates a presidency for the world’s basic reality about a place where you live.”

“What are referring to? Spinning? I’m not spinning. The earth is spinning. This is obvious. Everybody knows that.”

“You don’t feel any spinning but you are required to believe that from a start. It’s mandatory. You got indoctrinated to believe that most what you see by yourself, what you think, what you understand by yourself is an illusion. Because of that you have to totally rely on authorities. They are represented by so called ‘scientists’ who in a modern world are the priests in a white coats who stand for a religion called ‘science’. It’s a part of the law. Try to question it openly – you will see what will happen.”

“What are you talking about? You think there is some other reality of which we are not aware about? You sound like you are one of the ‘conspiracy theorists’. This is a large group of ‘tin foil hats’ completely out of their mind. They are not dangerous, rather pathetic and those are the people who are causing all that disruption and confusion you have in mind. They can’t show you any proof because they claim everything is hidden by conspiracy.”

“You want to see a proof? Let’s go outside. I’ll show you the proof.” I say walking to the door. “C’mon and see the proof.”

“I know outside. I’ve seen everything outside. You can show me shit!” He shouts at me with a boiling irritation. “I don’t have time for that nonsense. I have a work to do. What is it?”

“A proof. You said you want to see a proof. You will.”

* * *

We walk outside.

Dark is setting over the area. Velvet sky. A silver blade of Moon like horns of a charging bull pointed down ready to pick up Orion and throw him out of the firmament. To the right in a canyon of the street the sky is soaked in blood after Sun’s departure from that cosmic corrida few minutes ago. My hair is raising on my neck as I’m sensing a secret synchronicity I’m having with all those actors above and I hear a song I’m singing in my mind:

“Thank you Sun! Thank you Moon! Thank you Stars!”

“So what are you showing me?” Asks the guitar repairman lighting a cigarette. – “That same garbage on a street. Prostitute on a corner. I see her everyday. She must be conspiring for government. Or for Bilderberg. Maybe Vatican. I’m sure you know who is is she working for? Tell me.” Says the guitar repairman with a sardonic giggle turning into a cough attack as he exhales a cloud of smoke with 2000 thousands of toxic chemicals added to tobacco by industry of death.

“Nothing to see here. Aha! There is a cloud!” He points to the east where a long black cloud is stretching in straight line parallel to horizon. – “Are you going to show me the cloud!” He is delighted with his sarcasm.

“Yes. Later. First look at this!” I point at Moon and then at the glow where Sun just disappeared behind the horizon.

“Wow. Show me the moon. I’m thrilled. What else?”

“You see that Moon is high above the horizon. Yes?” I say and I point at Moon. “And Sun is down there. It just disappeared behind the horizon! Correct?”

“Yeah! I see it. Moon is above. Sun is bellow. I saw thousand times. Then what? You have nothing to show me.” “I feel sorry for you. Misguided little man who tries to get some attention to feel important.” He says blowing a cloud of smoke that goes over his head like a crown of his righteousness.

“Please pay attention to this side of Moon which is illuminated.”

“Yeah! I see it. One side of the moon is illuminated by the sun. What’s unusual in it?”

“Do you see that the illuminated side of Moon is turned up?”

“Sure I see it’s up. It’s always like that in this phase of the moon.”

“Okay! And Sun is down there behind the horizon. Can you see that?”

“Sure I can see that! So what a big deal?”

“Do you agree that the illuminated side of Moon is directed up?”

“Yes it’s directed up. What about it? C’mon mister you wasting my time.”

“This means that is pointing at the direction from which comes the light that illuminates this side of Moon. Is this clear?”

“That’s clear. Is this what we are doing? Confirming that this what we see is clear? C’mon sir. That’s enough! I came here so you can show me reality I don’t know about. But you are showing me something obvious. It’s absolutely clear for me that you are one of those pathetic useless eaters who ‘don’t know where is up and where is down’, sorry for being honest but I can’t lie to you. That’s who I am. I really care. I don’t want to make you more confused. Although I doubt that’s possible.” He talks to me with a voice of a torturer who squeezes words in the ear of his victim to maximize the pain. This kind of satisfaction he gets is the only reason that people indoctrinated like him talk to me from their pedestal. It’s like a thrill. I generously give them such a pleasure not because I’m a masochist but because I know there is a particle of consciousness that may suddenly penetrate the most fanatic scull and the dark phlegm falls off their brain and they can see what is in front of them. Not what they were told they see but see what actually is. Like resurrecting a dead. Or someone who was never alive. That’s the thrill.

My calmness is definitely causing his excitement to arouse.

“I hope you understand why we have special institutions, camps for those like you. Don’t take it personal.” His voice gets louder and his gesticulation explicit

” His heroic timbre of a public speaker is catching attention of people walking by.

“It’s not about one lunatic like you. It’s a social disease we have to conquer.” He proclaims receiving glimpses of an approval from those who stopped to witness righteousness being served.

My humiliation in front of the crowd is at its peak. The police arrival and a brutal arrest are the only elements missing for the guitar repairman to get his public orgasm.

I wander if I even get a chance to show this man something before situation turns into a lynch scenario and I say with a humble note in my voice to calm down the mob:

“Thank for being so direct, sir. I really appreciate your honesty. I wish you to be honest to yourself in that same degree as you are to other people.”

“No problem! Let me explain you what you are seeing here. The illuminated side of the moon is pointing up, because the light source is up! No! Wait a minute. It’s not up. The illuminated side of the moon is directed up… but the sun is there below? But this case the sun supposes to be above the Moon. Why is not above when Moon is illuminated from above? What the fuck is going on?” He says and looks at me like I’m a magician playing on him some cruel joke.

“Sir, you were absolutely right from beginning!” I say. “Moon’s up. Sun is down. That’s what you said, remember? The only detail here is that the illuminated side of Moon is pointing up but Sun is down behind the horizon. That it’s indicating that the light source shining on the Moon supposes to be above the Moon. So it can’t be the light from the Sun because Sun is below the horizon. Is that CLEAR?”

“Yeah. I see that.”

“But the official ‘scientific’ opinion is that Moon is illuminated by Sun. Yes?”

“Sure. Everybody knows that. No Revelation here thus far. You are not showing me something I don’t know. Just give it up please”

“So according to this what they are teaching you at school Moon is illuminated by Sun. But as you see now the light that is illuminating Moon is coming from above. Is that right?”

“That’s correct. The Moon is illuminated by the Sun from above. But the Sun is below there…Wait a minute. ”

“That’s exactly what I’m showing you. It’s about 20 minutes after Sunset. Sun is behind the horizon. Far below Moon. But the light that illuminates Moon… this light comes from above, not from the direction where Sun is located. You see that?”

“Wait a minute! That’s not fucking right. What’s going on here?” He says looking at me as I just committed a fraud.

“So the official ‘scientific’ claim is that Moon doesn’t shine with its own light and that Moon only reflects the light of Sun.

“Well, I remember this is what we were taught at school.”

“But this you see now doesn’t look like the official ‘scientific’ version of reality you were told.”

“Are you fucking with my brain?”

“No sir, it isn’t me. Those who told you all those lies are those who are fucking with your brain. Not me. What I’m doing now is washing your brain from that shit that they put into your brain. That’s all.”

“Is it always like that? The illuminated part of the Moon is directed up while the Sun is bellow?”

“Not always but most of the time you can see it before Sunset and it lasts sometimes over an hour after Sunset. Sometimes it’s more distinct; sometimes less. But you can see it almost in every Moon cycle.”

“And nobody can notice that? Why? Why? Why?” Aggravated, he lights two cigarettes and desperately smokes both of them. “Why there is not a one person among 7 billion people who was able to notice that? Why? I can’t fucking believe it. What’s going on with all the people of the world? Who are we?”

“That’s very simple. People’s minds got damaged through lies and deception that were put in our basic education. This damage is so huge that people are proudly celebrating it as their highest achievement. It became their identity and they see it as their greatest intellectual, cultural, mental and scientific sophistication. Being it that state they can’t question that. How could they? It keeps them in a hypnotic state. Looks like this brain damage turning them into retards.”

“I understand that average people are very stupid. They can get permanently blocked. But I just don’t understand why no one from the scientific world never, ever mentioned that?” He speaks with a sadness and confusion like a child that was kidnapped by his own parents.

“Because those who know Truth about Reality they get paid for not telling you the Truth. And those who don’t know the Truth about reality, those get paid for not knowing it.”

“Unprecedented! My head is exploding!”

“That’s only a tip of an iceberg.” I say and I sweep my hand across the sky. “Everything what is important got inverted to fuck up your ability to see and to understand what’s really going on. A person who believes his floor is rotating will swallow any outrageous lie."

“Why someone will be doing it?”

“It creates a state of hypnosis. If I can hypnotize you it will put you under my control. But this is worse then that. It’s a mass hypnosis. It keeps everyone in that state and if an individual wakes up and tries to inform others, this individual will be ridiculed, isolated, discriminated totally; ousted from society, rejected by friends and family, fired from the job, in many cases criminalized and destroyed. Just imagine you start telling this to your colleges at work. How they will look at you. You think you will keep your job?”

"No. You're kidding me? It's obvious they will fire me." He says spiting yellowish deposit of nicotine.

"The most perfidious is that this pogrom has been executed not by some institution established to destroy those who see the reality, but it will be done just by the others who are under hypnosis. This mass hypnosis is very brutal and it works like a very well designed inquisition implanted in the heart of society." I say looking with compassion at the guitar-repairman who just stands there in transparent apathy with no sign of acceptance or rejection.

"But there are some remedies to get out of it, that you will not be grinded by this mandatory religion of deception. Listen to this. The Cosmic frequency of this music will connect you with the Supreme Power of Universe. It will make you resilient." I hand him my business card.

He clutches at the card as if it was a rope that will pull him from drowning and he reads syllable by syllable:




“–Is this a picture of this pattern that 432 Hertz makes on the water?” He asks as he looks closer.

“–Yes. That's the one I showed you in my phone.”

He puts the card near to his eyes. His mouth move as he is counting something.

“–There are 28 lines here in this ring; that same as the moon cycle - 28 days. Actually this is a hologram, a microcosmos. The ring inside represents the moon. The beams around the moon are the days of the moon cycle.” He says.

“–Let me see.” I say exposing my excitement.

He hands me my business card I just gave him.

“–Really! 28 days is woman’s reproductive cycle. That binds all that together with human live in harmony with Cosmos. Sir, you are a genius, maybe an angel.” I say looking at the guitar repairman with respect.

“–Aha. Really! How much you must be fucked up you didn’t notice that until now?” Says the guitar repairman. “–Let me explain to you. Life is a frequency. The purpose was to destroy this frequency. That’s why they change music to 440 Hertz; to breakup our harmony with Cosmos. To cut us off from our roots. That’s obvious. This destroys human life. It destroys the life force. That’s the proof right here in those lines. Did you get that?” He stands tall. He is the winner. He taught me a lesson. I love it. Mission accomplished. I walk away.

“–Sir!” He yells. “–What else?” I stop in a middle of the street.

“–What is music for you?” He yells with a strange undertone in his voice.

“–It’s a device.” I reply.

“–Device? What device?”

“–Device of joy or sacrifice.” I say surprised with my answer because I never thought about it tha way until now.

“–Sacrifice what? I don’t get it.“ His voice is turning obnoxious like in the beginning of our conversation as if the harmonious field is living him when I’m moving away and his mind is being taken over by some entities from another dimension.

“–It’s like a beam of direct energy weapon that can burn human soul into nonexistence, or can guide it towards eternal bliss. Depending on what you play.” I scream of a top of my lungs piercing through the cars blasting their horns like an apocalyptic orchestra speeding on both sides  —  the two currents running opposite directions.

* * *

Related links:

1. "Music Has Been Weaponized Since the 1940s! 432 hz VS 440 hz!" https://www.bitchute.com/video/pwG6q2yivNM/

2. "29 FLAT EARTH PROOFS THAT WILL MAKE YOU QUESTION REALITY" https://www.bitchute.com/video/bPkNr9785bbq/

Średnia ocena: 3.0  Głosów: 2

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Komentarze (5)

  • Sandra 5 miesięcy temu
    Zgubiłam się 0_0
  • Pismo Nosem 5 miesięcy temu
    To jest komentarz do twego -- Zgubiłam się 0_0 o moim utworze "Guitar Shop - Music 432 Hertz"
  • Pismo Nosem 5 miesięcy temu
    Albo odkryłaś, że byłaś zgubiona. To dobry start żeby się odnaleźć.
    Nie jesteś jedyna odnośnie tego tematu. To wynicowuje świadomość jak pustą, dziurawą kieszeń. Bez pośpiechu. To jest bardzo trudno zasymilować tak od razu. Nie irytuj się tym faktem i daj sobie na to czas. Obejrzyj "29 FLAT EARTH PROOFS..." video spokojnie. Nie szukaj potwierdzeń w wikipedii. Kiedy to obejmiesz swym umysłem, to będzie tak, jakbyś się od nowa narodziła.
  • zsrrknight 5 miesięcy temu
    english good very edgy
  • Serdecznie zapraszamy do udziału w LBnRymy! (na wiersze)
    Dwa tematy: Wczoraj padał deszcz - Droga do...
    W wierszu można zamieścić dwa albo jeden z dwóch.
    Piszemy jednen wiersz!
    Czas na tworzenie, aż do 07 aździernika /północ/.
    Zasady konkursu znajdziesz tutaj:
    Liczymy na Ciebie!

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