Forwarded from The Yorkshire Lass
🚨BIG WEEK NEXT WEEK FOR CRYPTO.
The U.S. House of Representatives is set to vote on a market structure bill, a stablecoin bill and a bill banning a U.S. central bank digital currency next week. Perhaps it's premature to suggest the industry will notch a major win - but all signs indicate that U.S. President Donald Trump will sign a stablecoin bill into law before the August recess, as his team has sought since February.
https://www.coindesk.com/policy/2025/07/11/state-of-crypto-previewing-congress-crypto-week
The U.S. House of Representatives is set to vote on a market structure bill, a stablecoin bill and a bill banning a U.S. central bank digital currency next week. Perhaps it's premature to suggest the industry will notch a major win - but all signs indicate that U.S. President Donald Trump will sign a stablecoin bill into law before the August recess, as his team has sought since February.
https://www.coindesk.com/policy/2025/07/11/state-of-crypto-previewing-congress-crypto-week
Coindesk
What Crypto Week in Congress Means for Stablecoins, CBDCs and Market Rules
On deck: Stablecoin, market structure and central bank digital currency bills.
🔥7
Forwarded from Free4all (Mary)
Tonight Chris & I will unpack the action comedy, American Ultra (2015).
It is the story of a man who was a MK Ultra experiment that was placed into society without any knowledge of the experiments run on him. He is unknowingly marked as a liability and targeted for extermination. But he's too well-trained and too high for them to handle.
Grab your popcorn this one is a fun ride!
6pm EST
https://rumble.com/v6w4s5y-hidden-noscript-ep-15.html
https://pilled.net/topic-detail/1208656
https://pilled.net/topic-detail/1208719
It is the story of a man who was a MK Ultra experiment that was placed into society without any knowledge of the experiments run on him. He is unknowingly marked as a liability and targeted for extermination. But he's too well-trained and too high for them to handle.
Grab your popcorn this one is a fun ride!
6pm EST
https://rumble.com/v6w4s5y-hidden-noscript-ep-15.html
https://pilled.net/topic-detail/1208656
https://pilled.net/topic-detail/1208719
Rumble
Hidden Script ep 15
Tonight Chris & I will unpack the action comedy, American Ultra (2015). It is the story of a man who was a MK Ultra experiment that was placed into society without any knowledge of the experiments run
❤3
Has anyone else been dealing with a doozy of an headache today, or is it just me?
🙏6👍3🤯3
And be serious about it bc Hypatia was horrendously killed because she refused to think wrongly.
Forwarded from SORA @ Uncensored Source Monologues
HYPATIA OF ALEXANDRIA
She held the remnants of Atlantean knowledge before the Christian empire erased esoteric science, separating the spirit from science.
XX
@sorasyncs
She held the remnants of Atlantean knowledge before the Christian empire erased esoteric science, separating the spirit from science.
XX
@sorasyncs
❤🔥12⚡4
Forwarded from 🔥Embers from Ash🌻 (Ash)
For many years, I genuinely believed I was being led by “God.” I believed the voice I heard within me was the Holy Spirit guiding my steps, speaking truth into my heart, convicting me when I strayed, comforting me when I needed reassurance, and pointing me in the direction I thought was righteousness. It was a very real experience. It felt sacred. There was an undeniable weight to it, a presence that seemed beyond myself. And yet, looking back with clearer eyes, I have come to understand that the voice I thought was “God” was actually the voice of my own subconscious. It was not some distant divine entity communicating from the heavens. It was the voice of my inner world, the product of years of conditioning, repetition, and deep psychological programming that began the moment I was born into a religious tradition.
This programming didn’t happen all at once. It crept in slowly, quietly, through the ordinary rituals of my upbringing. Every time I went to church, every time I bowed my head for prayer, every time I sang songs about being saved or asked for forgiveness for my sins, something was being etched into the soft clay of my inner world. I was being taught not only who God was, but who I was in relation to God. A sinner. Fallen. Broken. Dependent. In need. Unworthy unless redeemed. And this narrative was not presented as one possibility among many. It was presented as the absolute and only truth. So it was not just something I believed; it became something I internalized. It became the structure of my inner dialogue. It became the voice that accompanied me in solitude and made meaning of every choice, every thought, every emotion.
As I got older, that voice matured with me. It adapted, taking on the language of theology and the tone of the spiritual authorities I admired. It became my compass. I used it to discern right from wrong, holy from unholy, good from evil. I was convinced it was the Spirit of God dwelling within me. After all, the same system that planted the voice in me also told me what the voice was. So when I would feel that sense of conviction or when I would hear a strong inner “no” or “yes” arise in my body, I did not question it. I embraced it as divine. I trusted it more than anything else, even when it conflicted with reason, compassion, or intuition. Especially then.
And because I believed that voice was God, I believed that anything which contradicted it must be false or dangerous. That included other people’s experiences, other spiritual paths, other interpretations of the same texts I held sacred. I saw anyone who disagreed with me not just as mistaken, but as deceived. And so I spent years of my life trying to convince others that my experience was the correct one, that my theology was the most accurate, that my way of reading the Bible was not just mine but God’s. I even used the evidence of other believers who shared the same conditioning as me to validate my certainty. I pointed to the fact that we all believed the same thing as proof that we must be right. I went so far as to quote church history, find old theologians who aligned with my beliefs, and call it tradition.
But what I didn’t see then is what feels painfully obvious now. I didn’t realize that my desire to be right was rooted in a deeper and more hidden desire to feel worthy. Because the tradition I came from had taught me that righteousness and worthiness were tied together. If I could be righteous, if I could have the right beliefs, if I could stay on the narrow path, if I could be doctrinally sound, then maybe I would finally feel like I mattered, like I was lovable, like I was not as broken as I had been told I was. So my certainty was not a reflection of divine truth. It was a survival mechanism. It was my attempt to escape the unbearable feeling of unworthiness that the religion itself had planted in me in the first place.
This programming didn’t happen all at once. It crept in slowly, quietly, through the ordinary rituals of my upbringing. Every time I went to church, every time I bowed my head for prayer, every time I sang songs about being saved or asked for forgiveness for my sins, something was being etched into the soft clay of my inner world. I was being taught not only who God was, but who I was in relation to God. A sinner. Fallen. Broken. Dependent. In need. Unworthy unless redeemed. And this narrative was not presented as one possibility among many. It was presented as the absolute and only truth. So it was not just something I believed; it became something I internalized. It became the structure of my inner dialogue. It became the voice that accompanied me in solitude and made meaning of every choice, every thought, every emotion.
As I got older, that voice matured with me. It adapted, taking on the language of theology and the tone of the spiritual authorities I admired. It became my compass. I used it to discern right from wrong, holy from unholy, good from evil. I was convinced it was the Spirit of God dwelling within me. After all, the same system that planted the voice in me also told me what the voice was. So when I would feel that sense of conviction or when I would hear a strong inner “no” or “yes” arise in my body, I did not question it. I embraced it as divine. I trusted it more than anything else, even when it conflicted with reason, compassion, or intuition. Especially then.
And because I believed that voice was God, I believed that anything which contradicted it must be false or dangerous. That included other people’s experiences, other spiritual paths, other interpretations of the same texts I held sacred. I saw anyone who disagreed with me not just as mistaken, but as deceived. And so I spent years of my life trying to convince others that my experience was the correct one, that my theology was the most accurate, that my way of reading the Bible was not just mine but God’s. I even used the evidence of other believers who shared the same conditioning as me to validate my certainty. I pointed to the fact that we all believed the same thing as proof that we must be right. I went so far as to quote church history, find old theologians who aligned with my beliefs, and call it tradition.
But what I didn’t see then is what feels painfully obvious now. I didn’t realize that my desire to be right was rooted in a deeper and more hidden desire to feel worthy. Because the tradition I came from had taught me that righteousness and worthiness were tied together. If I could be righteous, if I could have the right beliefs, if I could stay on the narrow path, if I could be doctrinally sound, then maybe I would finally feel like I mattered, like I was lovable, like I was not as broken as I had been told I was. So my certainty was not a reflection of divine truth. It was a survival mechanism. It was my attempt to escape the unbearable feeling of unworthiness that the religion itself had planted in me in the first place.
💯8❤2
Forwarded from 🔥Embers from Ash🌻 (Ash)
Over time, I began to meet people who also claimed to be led by the Spirit, who also heard the voice of God, but whose Spirit sounded very different from mine. Their God gave different instructions, spoke with a different tone, led them in directions I had been taught were wrong. And yet they seemed just as sincere, just as devoted, just as certain. This confused me at first. It even frightened me. But eventually, it opened a door I hadn’t even known was there. I started to ask a deeper question: If all of us claim to be hearing the same God, then why are we hearing such different things?
When I finally allowed myself to see this, I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t keep pretending that the inner voice I heard was an infallible guide. I started to question it. I stopped obeying it automatically. I began to deprogram my subconscious. I began to unlearn. And something strange happened. The voice became quieter. The constant commentary began to fade. And in its place, there was silence. At first, the silence felt empty, even frightening. I felt like I had lost something sacred. But slowly, I began to see that I hadn’t lost anything. I had uncovered something. Beneath the voice, beneath the layers of belief and theology and fear, there was a stillness I had never known. And it was not hollow. It was full. It was radiant.
What remained was something I cannot fully describe, but I can tell you what it felt like. It felt like peace. It felt like presence. It felt like love without condition. It felt like I was home in myself for the very first time. Not because I had finally become righteous, but because I had stopped trying to prove that I was. I was no longer relating to myself as a sinner, no longer trying to fix what religion had told me was broken. I had discovered something far more honest. I had discovered that I had never been broken. I had only been taught to believe I was.
And perhaps that is what the mystics meant when they said that the words we use for God are just fingers pointing to the moon. What I thought was God was the voice of my conditioning. But what I found beneath that voice was not a person, not a belief, not a dogma, not even a presence that needed to be named. What I found was reality itself. What I found was being. What I found was love.
And it had been there the whole time, waiting for me in the silence.
- Logan Barone
When I finally allowed myself to see this, I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t keep pretending that the inner voice I heard was an infallible guide. I started to question it. I stopped obeying it automatically. I began to deprogram my subconscious. I began to unlearn. And something strange happened. The voice became quieter. The constant commentary began to fade. And in its place, there was silence. At first, the silence felt empty, even frightening. I felt like I had lost something sacred. But slowly, I began to see that I hadn’t lost anything. I had uncovered something. Beneath the voice, beneath the layers of belief and theology and fear, there was a stillness I had never known. And it was not hollow. It was full. It was radiant.
What remained was something I cannot fully describe, but I can tell you what it felt like. It felt like peace. It felt like presence. It felt like love without condition. It felt like I was home in myself for the very first time. Not because I had finally become righteous, but because I had stopped trying to prove that I was. I was no longer relating to myself as a sinner, no longer trying to fix what religion had told me was broken. I had discovered something far more honest. I had discovered that I had never been broken. I had only been taught to believe I was.
And perhaps that is what the mystics meant when they said that the words we use for God are just fingers pointing to the moon. What I thought was God was the voice of my conditioning. But what I found beneath that voice was not a person, not a belief, not a dogma, not even a presence that needed to be named. What I found was reality itself. What I found was being. What I found was love.
And it had been there the whole time, waiting for me in the silence.
- Logan Barone
❤🔥15❤1👏1
Forwarded from TR HQ (TruthRascal)
The Seeker walks alone.
Wandering.
She comes to take a rest under a tree and she asks, “What can you tell me of life?”
And the tree replies, “You must grow. Draw nourishment from the earth and strength from the Sun. And when you are prevented from growing, you must push against whatever is constraining you until it breaks, or you take it within yourself and make it part of you. In this way, you will always be free.”
“Thank you,” she says.
She steps to the river and asks, “What can you tell me of life?”
And the river says, “You must Flow. And when you are prevented, you must wait until the power of your self overcomes the obstacle. In this way, you will always be free.”
“Thank you,” she says, “I am most grateful.”
She looks up at the Sun and asks her question, “What can you tell me of life?” And the Sun replies, “Trust. Trust that I will be here for you always. Trust that my warmth will sustain you and you will know the measure of my Love by the way I feel to you. Trust that I will teach you to Love as I do. In this way you will always be free and you will never perish.”
“Thank you,” she says and continues on her way.
And in that moment she senses the cool water nearby, and hears the tree’s leaves in the wind. The sun shines on her face and she smiles because she understands.
-TR✨💕✨
@TruthRascalHQ
Wandering.
She comes to take a rest under a tree and she asks, “What can you tell me of life?”
And the tree replies, “You must grow. Draw nourishment from the earth and strength from the Sun. And when you are prevented from growing, you must push against whatever is constraining you until it breaks, or you take it within yourself and make it part of you. In this way, you will always be free.”
“Thank you,” she says.
She steps to the river and asks, “What can you tell me of life?”
And the river says, “You must Flow. And when you are prevented, you must wait until the power of your self overcomes the obstacle. In this way, you will always be free.”
“Thank you,” she says, “I am most grateful.”
She looks up at the Sun and asks her question, “What can you tell me of life?” And the Sun replies, “Trust. Trust that I will be here for you always. Trust that my warmth will sustain you and you will know the measure of my Love by the way I feel to you. Trust that I will teach you to Love as I do. In this way you will always be free and you will never perish.”
“Thank you,” she says and continues on her way.
And in that moment she senses the cool water nearby, and hears the tree’s leaves in the wind. The sun shines on her face and she smiles because she understands.
-TR✨💕✨
@TruthRascalHQ
🥰16❤8
Forwarded from Overrated Consciousness! (E Of Washington State)
Think we are nearing the finale my friends.
In this movie we have the diabolical and evil players always trying to do us harm, but we also have an unlikely cast of superheroes watching over us.
If you ever saw any of these superheroes on the street, you may not notice any of them to be remarkable.
Many of them are dads and moms, earning a living and taking kids to baseball and basketball practice.
Some have factory jobs, others are hairdressers and delivery drivers.
The common thread they all have is an internet connection, the knowledge of what’s going on in the actual world, and a deep sense of Patriotic anger against those who would enslave us.
I’m talking about you Patriot.
The many nights you stayed up way too late as you went headlong into another rabbit hole, often a dead end.
The many hours you spent trying to share with others the revelations of what Covid is and the evil behind a corrupt government that forced mandates on us.
Q taught us, but it was us they relied on.
In this movie we have the diabolical and evil players always trying to do us harm, but we also have an unlikely cast of superheroes watching over us.
If you ever saw any of these superheroes on the street, you may not notice any of them to be remarkable.
Many of them are dads and moms, earning a living and taking kids to baseball and basketball practice.
Some have factory jobs, others are hairdressers and delivery drivers.
The common thread they all have is an internet connection, the knowledge of what’s going on in the actual world, and a deep sense of Patriotic anger against those who would enslave us.
I’m talking about you Patriot.
The many nights you stayed up way too late as you went headlong into another rabbit hole, often a dead end.
The many hours you spent trying to share with others the revelations of what Covid is and the evil behind a corrupt government that forced mandates on us.
Q taught us, but it was us they relied on.
🙏16❤🔥11❤1