I have left mini me in charge of my fort while I am away celebrating Americas holiday. New world predictions are forming, from nuclear disaster, to hurricanes and a new earthquake and typical me, they are all ghastly. Except this nugget that I want sing from the mountain tops. The death and failure of Putin ensures one major event:
Your still a “Joke” Putin and we said it first.
The Ukraine War Ends In
November
We have come full circle to the original prediction, the last part of the message now coming:
Whats Coming in 2022
As the medium who predicted Covid19 in October of 2019, months before it struck the world, I can now say with great relief, this Pandemic is ending, but as it reads, celebration is next to nothing. The sum of what 2022 brings:
The Year of Reflection
I had a vision from the sky-high above of a large horse race track, old, worn, outdated. The day was brisk, cold, the ground muddy and wet from the day before. I could see the horses in the stables breathing the cold fog of the morning. On the ground was a wooden plaque that read 1919. Then a band of Rawhide Thugs got on the racetrack, dressed in old-style cowboy outfits for the outlaws. The first face I could make out was a familiar one; it was Death himself, I crossed his image before, and I am familiar with his horse. The second racer had a joker’s face; painted with makeup that was smeared as if trying to remove it,, he was dressed more like Barnum and Bailey. He had a twisted grin and filthy dirty hands. The third racer eludes me, his face was horribly scarred with cuts and burns. He also had smeared makeup to cover his scars, he also had an old gold Roman face mask, that was broken. All three raced ragefully towards the finish line. Mud flung from all sides, swinging across the tracks. How many rounds are there? Soon all three would pass the finish line. An announcer of the race came over the loudspeaker. “Thank God, the race is ending now. It’s coming to its ending.” in this old WW1 voice. I felt relief as the finish line flag wagged in the brisk air; this was ending.
I had a vision. I was looking at a chessboard; then, I became a part of the chessboard. I walked through this large beautiful marble, cold, stony floor at night. There were life-sized pieces, then on both sides, black and white chess pieces fell. First the king, then a queen, then another king. They all begin to fall. They were replaced by pawns and bishops. I could hear ticking, ticking, ticking, as the board circled like a clock, then the board was forever different.
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