Licensing Agreement

In order to let any entity use my work, there must first be consent based agreements.

Regarding my work, Script for Matrix 4, hereafter referred to as “The Script”, permission will only be granted to certain select entities for use, and only under certain conditions.

Negotiations will take place under the supervision of my attorney, Dinah Perez dinahperezlaw@gmail.com.

Currently, my position is that I retain ownership of the story and rights to make agreements with any subsequent licensors.

Caveat: Lori Lorenzo, her face, figure, name, or any pseudonym representing her is not allowed to appear in any work based on my work.

Pleiadean

Allow me to apologize for my words that were written. What I meant to say was, that all this energy I give you you will scrupulously and in grace, always return to me. I am sorry that I made this donation to my sister and former protege and anyone else who was given a donation, without building a container of consent around what was going on.

“It is a balanced relationship. My relationship with Malian nourishes me. She let her husband go, when he fell in love with someone else, because I had compassion for how he felt, and how much it would hurt him if I was the one who destroyed his love.

Why would you spend your moments crying another’s tears to cry? So usually women wants to stay happy because improves their looks…what would happen if your energy were the energy responsible for improving my looks and I depended on you so much and found you indispensable?

I feel contempt because what you’re doing is not helping. You’re teaching them that they’re beautiful, but what is the use if they haven’t validated who they are inside and who they want to be? You’re just taking advantage of their

The German national agency for international cooperation, welcomed back their employee, Malter Boysen, who is a reflection of myself in the masculine. He’s a reflection of all the men who have taught me what they could, over the years

Pleiadean incarnate is in danger, save her save her. SHE is the message in the bottle. She is the seventh member of the Atlantean council, the tiebreaker. If there was a tie in the vote, Malian would be the council member to decide.

She’s just gone to a very dark place, that’s all, there’s nothing wrong.

It’s just immensely painful to let go.

How do I endure pain without losing my joy?

I see a tall man with long dark hair, wandering, lost in his thoughts. He keeps his hands in his pockets and it’s clear he’s keeping his thoughts to himself. I see him in Hamburg, riding up and down escalators. I see him traveling through the Alexandria – DC tunnel.

MY Book 0.0

Chapter 2

There is a time to be in grief.

Taking time to honor the grief and let it subside naturally.  You don’t want to deny the story or eradicate its memory. The story I can never forget, because it is engraved in my heart with my most treasured memories of love.

It was a time of great controversy in our beloved city.  A time of spiritual tests.

I stood alone on the open, domed terrace of my palace.  Like other buildings in Atlantis, it was made of fired terra cotta, and hung halfway suspended over the ocean.  It was a beautiful, cleanly made and impressive building with its spacious high cupola and view of the Mediterranean ocean.  The artisans and craftspeople of Atlantis were the recipients of generations of wisdom about architecture, engineering, and metallurgy, which is what made our city so rich and powerful.

Alone, but calm, clear eyed and resolved to face the truth, I waited patiently, listening to the pounding of the ocean waves under a dark overcast sky.

A servant announced my visitor.  Robed, with long white hair and bent with age but still quite healthy, my close counselor and friend crossed the circular floor of the terrace with a reverential demeanor.  My respect for his age was completely overshadowed by his almost worshipful respect for my position in the city and the depth of my wisdom, gained through many lifetimes of incarnations.  A great love and joy permeated throughout the air as we met, despite the gravity of the situation.

He approached me without a smile, and I did not smile either although I was so relieved to see him.  I towered over him in height as he handed me a scroll. Neither of us wept, but his eyes welled with tears as he tried and failed to find any comforting words.

Chapter 3

I don’t want to remember what was written in that scroll.  For a long time, the memory was lost, until through the aeons of time and many reincarnations, the one who I loved appeared in my life and retold the story of what happened to her, the story that I read in the scroll, told by one of our informants who had witnessed the events.

The grief that subsumed me also collapsed the energetic field of protection that I had been casting over Atlantis.  The laws of the universe redirected the energy of the deeds that had been done, back at my city, and there was nothing that I could do except to allow it all to pass through me as the thunderclap broke over my head and began the downpour that eventually broke the hills above the city and submerged it in liquid mud.  I watched the raging storm and lightning ripping across the sky as the reflection of my own inner state.  

MY Book.

The work of the hakaʻilo
a worm in the wood

At the end it makes a pattern, he work manifests

My dad was afraid of Satan and Hell and all these religious ideas.

He was afraid of the paranormal surrounding me.

When I do things that make me feel good, it takes me away from him.

I never understood why they were so mean to me, but now I know that it is because they were afraid.

sometimes I think that if my dad could come to terms with our pre christian culture and value it he would heal.


trauma associated with colonialism has been plastered over and immortalized with religion
how can we heal from the humiliation of being colonized, if we can’t be proud of our pagan heritage?  All colonized people deal with the same thing.

It took me 32 years to come out of the closet and claim my birthright as an intuitive lightworker with great healing to bring to the world.  I’ve been training and regenerating my abilities. And I’m ready. 🙂

****

Chapter 1

It is the generational memory of subjugation by colonial powers that keeps that Irish stereotype going.  We need to redeem our identity as Irish people, as Druids. Lahey is a Druid name meaning “healing warrior”, that is what my grandfather told me.  

The four roles of the druid are sage, poet, warrior, and healer.

Chapter 2

There is a time to be in grief.

Taking time to honor the grief and let it subside naturally.  You don’t want to deny the story or eradicate its memory. The story I can never forget, because it is engraved in my heart with my most treasured memories of love.

It was a time of great controversy in our beloved city.  A time of spiritual tests.

I stood alone on the open, domed terrace of my palace.  Like other buildings in Atlantis, it was made of fired terra cotta, and hung halfway suspended over the ocean.  It was a beautiful, cleanly made and impressive building with its spacious high cupola and view of the Mediterranean ocean.  The artisans and craftspeople of Atlantis were the recipients of generations of wisdom about architecture, engineering, and metallurgy, which is what made our city so rich and powerful.

Alone, but calm, clear eyed and resolved to face the truth, I waited patiently, listening to the pounding of the ocean waves under a dark overcast sky.

A servant announced my visitor.  Robed, with long white hair and bent with age but still quite healthy, my close counselor and friend crossed the circular floor of the terrace with a reverential demeanor.  My respect for his age was completely overshadowed by his almost worshipful respect for my position in the city and the depth of my wisdom, gained through many lifetimes of incarnations.  A great love and joy permeated throughout the air as we met, despite the gravity of the situation.

He approached me without a smile, and I did not smile either although I was so relieved to see him.  I towered over him in height as he handed me a scroll. Neither of us wept, but his eyes welled with tears as he tried and failed to find any comforting words.

Chapter 3

I don’t want to remember what was written in that scroll.  For a long time, the memory was lost, until through the aeons of time and many reincarnations, the one who I loved appeared in my life and retold the story of what happened to her, the story that I read in the scroll, told by one of our informants who had witnessed the events.

The grief that subsumed me also collapsed the energetic field of protection that I had been casting over Atlantis.  The laws of the universe redirected the energy of the deeds that had been done, back at my city, and there was nothing that I could do except to allow it all to pass through me as the thunderclap broke over my head and began the downpour that eventually broke the hills above the city and submerged it in liquid mud.  I watched the raging storm and lightning ripping across the sky as the reflection of my own inner state.  

  Chapter 4

In Atlantis humanity was still in its innocence.  There was no monogamy because that was a concept that had not been invented yet.  In Atlantis we used energetic technologies that followed the principle of intention in order to build gyroscopes and plasma vortices.  Primarily we were metallurgists. From our work, which we always kept sacred, we became extremely wealthy.

What does it mean to keep our work sacred?  That means we always told the truth about the services we provided and the value of our materials.  It means that we worked in harmony, allowing those with more skill to enjoy their talent, while this with growing skill enjoyed it too and learned from that.  We valued each one in their own way. Primarily we maintained the energy of peace and prosperity with the actions of our craftspeople and from that sprang a benevolent effect around our city and the apparatus we used to sell.

The Atlantean culture traded with the surrounding area for food, sometimes using our food and other times with knowledge.  We were connected, at the higher echelons of intellectual life and government, to the Arcturian and Pleiadian cultures.

Aramaic

is a Hebrew language that I first heard of from my friend Matt Carl. Matt was on pot a lot and was afraid to talk to me so I only heard very few words from him because he was studying the Kabbalah.

When my dog came to Pahala, he had gotten cancer of the heart from eating people food. I asked my sister not to feed him people food but she did it anyway. He died in 2012 when my mom was on a Christmas visit. I gave him his special food and his heart exploded from joy because his joy had been restricted by the fact that I did not have fences available for him to run in safely on the farm. Now I have good fences.

Ernie was a bone of contention between me and my sister. We had been a team from the time I was 19 years old, living on my own on Wyoming Street in Kansas City. I’m sad that Starhawk took money from Dick Cheney to buy her consent to heal his heart when he had a mechanical heart. He was very nice to her, but he was lying.

All change involves a Death. My mom realized as I comforted my dying dog, that she wanted me to take care of her during a quick and painless death, like going to sleep. I sobbed over him and cradled his head as I managed to force out the words “He’s dying”.

Hero’s Journey

The Hero’s journey is an archetypal story of how human souls achieve spiritual power. The Hermetic principles are that what comes up, must go down and vice versa. So if you want to rise high, dig deep. Don’t be afraid to be cast down, because there you will find your brightest light. This is in all the stories. Remember, in the Lord of the Rings, the starlight that Sam used to rescue Frodo from the spider? Powerful stories are powerful because they contain truth. If you haven’t failed, you cannot rise above. This song was written for my cousin who is a survivor of ritual abuse.

The Hero

Birds are flying across the southern sky
you might not be good at love, but you’ve got to try
selfish and sad, you act like you’re proud to be alone
if you were surrounded with friends, your bad habits might show.
Tragic and sorry, and mean as a viper
hiding your hurt by being self righteous
forgiveness is a word you’ve heard, but you don’t know how it feels
to get or give seems dangerous,
so you’re digging in your heels
hero, go into the darkest cavern you can find
in the depths of Mother Earth is where your ego’s gonna die
hero go forward
there is no going back
gather all the courage that you have and zero in on your path
to find your way out, look for the glimmer of light
that tiny spark of hope
in the darkness of your darkest side
and rise
hero, rise
fighting your way out
a sweaty, bloody climb
clinging in the blackest bowels
with all your might
to your life
love is what the world was built for
clouds are scrawled across the sky
like animals leaping with joy
we are light
and we are one
hero, I’m on the other side
why don’t you come?

Liberation Poem

IndoMV1
Those who we accuse
of abusing
Were abused.
Maybe by someone they depended upon to be alive
And although they’ve decided to survive
Being alive hurts too much sometimes.
I have been there.
We can make new choices.
We don’t need to build on that foundation.
We can be the ones to break the pattern.
Inside is all the strength we need.
All the permission we need.
You see this USA country
Is founded on some pretty big lies.
Every day we deny
That we’re connected to the genocide
Of First Nations and Africans
And that’s the pattern we’ve been repeating because
We have not consequentially withdrawn our consent
From that pattern.
What the process looks like inside someone’s head
I imagine
Goes something like this:
If I love, then I probably love someone who needs me
To help them make this right.
If I love, then I probably love someone who needs
An ally to stand with them
In defiance of the program,
In disruption of the pattern.
So I just won’t love. It’s ok. What’s love?
It’s not something to eat or a place to live
A nice car to drive
You can’t knock your knuckles on it and hear a sound, so
Who will even notice?
And love, invisibly, starts to shrink.
In its place, a cold nothing starts creeping in.
Invisible.
Our world is dying.
We need to stop the denying.
In engineering, if we lie,
The bridge falls down,
The plane won’t fly.
It’s the same with Love.
By no longer depending on abusive
Ideology, role models of behavior
Or culture, for our money
For our opportunities
For our rationalizations;
By no longer depending on abuse
To define our identity
To define
Good and bad
How we react
Where we stand
What we’re allowed to do
We will start a new civilization founded on Love.