Our Children Are Not Kids!

Do We sacrifice Them like goats?

As I read posts, articles, comments, and such, and watch videos, I am astounded by how virtually all of the mentions of young Humans call Them “kids.”

I am not sure who started that practice, to call Our children “kids,” but I can place a good probability it started in psychopathic circles, who worship “satan,” “Baal,” etc. Child sacrifice is a practice in these groups – I know, because, when I was five, a friend I had made at satanic rituals I was taken to by the man who married My mother’s sister (will not call Him “uncle” – He is no relation to Me!) was murdered on the altar at the last ritual I was taken to.

For those who want a bit more on why that was that last ritual I was taken to, I will offer this:

I did not remember the whole thing except for a couple flashes that I had no context for until I was about 35. I remembered walking with the man who married My mother’s sister (hence forth, TMWMMMS) on a side street on a sharp decline to a slightly more major road, and going up a dark staircase with People in black robes and masks.

I always had a fascination with satanism, though I never examined why that was. I loathed it, but was yet driven to find out all I could about these sick People and Their rituals and beliefs. When the net first blossomed, I was searching for information a lot. And I surely learned a great deal, with search engines that did not censor, and the ability to look on any page of the returns, going to page 1,000 if I wanted to.

One day, I read that sometimes in Their rituals, They sacrificed the child of one of the members without letting the parent(s) know. And suddenly…

I remembers a horrifying scream that shook Me to shaking, and from that, the image of the woman screaming. And then outwards to surroundings – People in masks and black robes, with Me in a mask as well. And an altar and a child thereon.

And then the memory spread into both the time before this and the time after this. It would be difficult to describe the “backwards” memory in ways that make sense to the reader, so I will offer what I remembered once the flow in both directions was complete.

TMWMMMS, another adult, another child and I were walking downhill on a small side street where We had parked. We got to the larger street and turned right, and went a block that was relatively level, crossed the next street, then turned left, crossing the larger street. We were going downwards again, and the harbor was maybe two blocks away.

Halfway down the block from the larger street was a set of stairs on Our immediate right, going downward below street level. It seemed to be a warehouse, as We were in the warehouse district. Down those stairs We went and the door at the bottom was closed. TMWMMMS knocked and it cracked open.

I didn’t hear or don’t remember the specifics of what They exchanged, but the door opened and We went in. There was a group of children in varying ages there, and a woman took charge of Me and the other child while TMWMMMS and the other man left though a door opposite the one We entered through.

She handed me a rough and scratchy robe and a mask and told Me to strip and put them on. I saw that My friend – I truly wish I could remember Her name, but I have always sucked with names, and it will not come to Me – was also disrobing to put on identical robe and mask. She was a year older than Me and had been My “mentor” in what We were to do in other rituals. And so We started chatting and She letting Me know I has to take everything off.

Including My underwear.

As We completed robing Ourselves in the black robes with the other children, having placed Our clothing in piles on the floor, and as We held the masks in Our hands, another woman appeared at the top of a second set of stairs at the back of the room, to the right of the door We entered through. She called My friend to come with Her, saying She had a special role for My friend.

I remember being envious, wanting a special role Myself! Very ironic considering what later happened.

The rest of Us were told to put the masks on and were lined up in pairs facing the door TMWMMMS and the other man had gone through. I was on the left and anOther on the right. The door was opened and We filed through to see a third set of stairs going up on the right. Adults in masks and robes stood at intervals on the stairs on either side. And two were leading Us up the stairs.

The mask was very uncomfortable – as We climbed the stairs, I kept trying to push it around so it didn’t press into My face and finally started to lift it off My face. The adult nearest Me on the stairs slammed it back on My face, causing pain and tears, while He hissed, “You have to keep the mask on!”

We got to the top of the stairs and turned left and after a very short hallway – five feet at most – it opened up onto a room maybe 50 feet long and wide. There were adults standing around an altar in the middle, also robed and masked. We were led to stand in Our two rows to the right of the entrance We came through, facing the altar.

And then began the show, a priest chanting, the flock responding, and I became bored.

When I was that age, I was very prone to daydreaming, and so, while all that boring stuff was going on, I was off flying and doing things I loved to do in My mind. At some point, the display shifted, and I looked up to see a child, masked and robed, being led in from the back side of the altar, with a someOne on either side holding the child’s arms.

The child was lifted to the altar and place lying down, mask upward. And then again the chanting and all, and I went back to My dreams. And then…

That blood-curdling scream brought Me back to the room.

My friend’s mother had stripped Her mask off and screamed and screamed. Then She turned Us children crying, “It was supposed to be one of YOU!!!!” She lunged towards Us, screaming that over and over, and was caught by a coupled of the other adults and restrained from coming close to Us.

I looked at the altar and saw that the mask had been lifted from the face of the child and, as You likely guessed, it was My friend. She did not move.

The mother kept screaming, and suddenly, there was a pounding on some door to an area beneath the room We were in, off in a direction opposite where We has entered. TMWMMMS told the Others to get Us children out of the building, get Us dressed and out as quickly as possible, and He would handle whoever was pounding.

We were nearly thrust down the stairs by a number of adults, and the woman who had initially told Me to strip and get dressed took charge of Me – I think the other children were handled by parents who were involved in the ritual. All I remember was this woman pressuring Me to get dressed while I asked fervently about My friend and getting no answer.

I got My clothes on, all the while asking about My friend and being ignored, and started putting on My shoes when the woman told Me I could put them on later and grabbed my arm and shoved Me, still holding My shoes, out the way I had come in, up the stairs to the street.

As I started up the stairs, My bare feet hit grit and glass, small stones and other things that hurt to walk on. I paused to attempt putting on the shoes, but the woman again grabbed My arm and dragged Me upwards.

We got to the street and there was a car at the curb and the back door opened. I was thrust onto the seat next to a very fat man, and the woman squeezed in behind Me and shut the door. The car sped off, with Me asking and asking about My friend.

At some point, the man in the front passenger seat turned around and said, “She’s dead.”

I went into shock and then started sobbing, tears dripping like waterfalls. The woman next to Me leaned over and hissed and the man, “Why did You tell Her???”

He replied, “She has to know.”

To no avail the woman tried to settle Me down – but I was thinking about how I would never see My friend anymore, how close a bond We had was so shattered. I would not stop crying and wailing, The man in front finally turned to Me and asked if I liked milkshakes. That drew My attention off My friend enough to pause in My tears to nod.

As I returned to My tears, He said, “When We get to the restaurant, I’ll buy You one if You stop crying.” Well, at five, I was surely a sucker for chocolate milkshakes. And so, struggling to keep the anguish under control, I stopped the outward cries. Only hiccuping now and then.

I forget now whether it was Sambo’s or Denny’s that We went to – both were popular restaurants in the area at the time, though I think it was Sambo’s. Anyway, We got there and were seated with Others from the ritual who had arrived earlier. And the promise was kept. I received My chocolate milkshake.

Soon after the shake arrived, TMWMMMS came in. When He got to the table and was seating Himself, He explained it was a policeman who had been alerted by someOne who had heard the mother’s screams and wanted to check in. TMWMMMS explained to Him that They were rehearsing a play and They thought They had chosen a place that the screams in the script would not bother anyOne.

The policeman accepted this and left.

TMWMMMS stayed to “clean up” and then had come along to join Us. We sat and ate, with Others talking about this and that, and eventually TMWMMMS took Me to His car and We went back to His place, where I was staying the night.

He often would suggest that I come over to spend time with My cousin, close to My age, and My cousin close to My sister’s age stay at My place and spend time with My sister. My parents, unaware of what He was doing with Me, taking Me to rituals and also molesting Me when He could, had no issues with the setup.

When We entered the house, and I began to tear and sob again, He told Me not to start crying again because it would wake My cousin up. I continued then to contain My tears.

The next morning, as We went to My house, TMWMMMS told Me not to say anything about what happened. Not to cry. We pulled up at the curb of My house, and started walking to the from door. Mom opened it as We neared, and that was all I could take of holding back.

I ran to Her and wrapped My arms around Her legs, sobbing, “She’s dead! Shes’s dead!”

Mom looked up at TMWMMMS with a startled look on Her face. TMWMMMS glibly told Her I had had a nightmare. I was aghast!

“No!!! It was not a nightmare! It was real! It was real!!!”

Well, TMWMMMS and Mom discussed things further while I sobbed and was furious at the lie being told. I accused Him of lying! But Mom seemed to favor His lie over My truth. After a short bit TMWMMMS left and I persisted through tears to state that He was lying and it was not a nightmare. It was true!!!

For...I don’t know, maybe an hour, maybe more, Mom kept insisting I had had a bad dream, that it wasn’t true, and I kept speaking to His lie. Finally, Mom said to just forget about it, and left Me in My room. But from that point on She would not let Me sleep at my cousin’s house “because it gives Her nightmares to sleep away from home.” Thus ended the rituals I was taken to.

And forget it, I did, for 30 years. But when that came back, so did a few other memories of the time, but this is getting long and I want to get to the point:

The most common animal that was used as a sacrifice was a goat. And They, the psychopaths in control, sacrifice Our – and Their – children. They started calling the children baby goats. Kids. And I recommend We stop that practice. It serves Them. And I doubt We want to serve Them in the least.

They are children, not baby goats.

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As My regular readers know, I ask for no money as payment for My work for Humanity. I ask for payment in shares. Please, if You feel My work has value, share with ten or more People. This will be the only way the information is spread.

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Links to info:

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Solving for Psychopaths in Control (article): https://amaterasusolar.substack.com/p/solving-for-psychopaths-in-control

Why Does Money Promote Psychopaths? (article): https://amaterasusolar.substack.com/p/why-does-money-promote-psychopaths

Lip Service to Freedom (article): https://amaterasusolar.substack.com/p/lip-service-to-freedom

We Have to Do This Ourselves (article): https://amaterasusolar.substack.com/p/we-have-to-do-this-ourselves

The Humble One (article): https://amaterasusolar.substack.com/p/the-humble-one

Discussing Sin (article): https://amaterasusolar.substack.com/p/discussing-sin

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Signature:

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Endia – A Short Story by Amaterasu Solar

http://tapyoureit.boards.net/thread/260/endia

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Quite the Opposite – A Short Story for Change – by Amaterasu Solar

http://tapyoureit.boards.net/thread/72/quite-opposite-short-story-change

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The Abundance Paradigm – A Novella by Amaterasu Solar

http://tapyoureit.boards.net/thread/242/abundance-paradigm-novella

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My father taught Me never to believe anything. He told Me to place probabilities and adjust them as new data come along, asking the question, "Does that explain what I see?," when evaluating data. He was an aerospace engineer, and worked with T Townsend Brown (see My featured vid on Odysee or YouToilet). From a very early age I was concerned that the way I was told things worked, in terms of government and social affairs, did not explain what I saw. So the first few decades I worked to determine WHY this was.

I wound up in banking, seeing the flow of things in the headquarters of a major bank in Los Angeles. I became intimately familiar with the flow of money, and economics. I asked the question, "Why do We use money?"

When the web arrived, My research capabilities flourished, and I learned much that explained what I saw, but the only explanations I found for why We use money started with trade and barter, which are still money in a direct form, and did not answer the WHY. Then, I came upon the explanation that these were used because, with a finite amount of stuff, it was to ensure that We got Our "fair share" in a scarcity environment, in exchange for the work We added.

From this I realized the WHY. We were accounting for Our energy input into things. And that We needed to do this because the Human energy was scarce compared to what We needed to be produced (back then).

I also discovered that over half Our planet's wealth was "owned" by fewer than 100 Humans...

I was very interested in psychology, too. And studied it deeply, being fascinated by psychopathy, focusing on that aberration, learning that They had discovered a gene that manifested Individuals who were incapable of love, compassion, caring, and empathy for Others – primary psychopaths. Seeing that the wealth was so disproportionate, and that the families who "owned" it inbred, what would explain what I saw would be that They wanted to retain that psychopathic gene. Given that the wealth could feed, clothe, house ALL of Us (and give Us freedom) abundantly and many times over, and yet None set forth to care for Humanity, I had to give probability approaching 100% that They are psychopaths, as that explains perfectly what I see, and answers My quest for why the way I was told things worked did not explain what I saw.

And I asked... If I was a psychopath, with enough wealth to buy anything and anyOne I wanted to, and given that money = power (power over Others is something psychopaths seek), would I be motivated to create a false "reality" for the masses and thereby manipulate Them? I think You can figure out what answer I came up with. And would that explain what I see? Absolutely.

Now, given that money is merely the accounting token used to account for Our Human energy, it would follow that free energy would threaten fully the accounting for Our energy. If I was a psychopath, with enough money to buy sites like Wikipedia, the media, the education system, etc., would I do all I could to suppress and hide free energy?

And given I personally know that electrogravitics offers both gravity control and energy from the aether (the electromagnetic field that pervades the universe), and that it went into black projects, such efforts to hide and suppress would explain what I see completely.

So I am neither a "conspiracy theorist," nor am I a "conspiritard," but rather... I am a conspiracy analyst. And given this analysis, knowing that conspiracies are the NORM in history and that they didn't just stop some years back, I conclude that conspiracies abound. That explains perfectly what I see.

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Love always.