Chapter 4: MARILYN MONROE
My angelic (and demonic) face, meshed together, always flushes with jubilant flair when I thought of her. §he was the only mortal woman I ever envied, and wanted to be like, and that was taking a step forward, not backward, yet backward in an Immortal sense, and not even there, because even in death she was Immortal, and became Immortal.
§he was killed and the crime scene was made to look like a drug overdose, and I witnessed exactly what happened, the perpetrator shoved drugs down her throat and began to choke her: gasp…
I’m getting choked up at the memory. I can remember how enlarged her eyes were, mine were enlarged as well. I was soaked in blood, from previously strangling a wealthy rock star a few hours before Marilyn’s murder.
I was watching from the latrine of her room, covering my mouth in shock, doing nothing because I never get involved in/with mortal affairs, and even though she was a mega star she was still human by default, so her smell alone brought me back down to earth every time I inhaled. I hated the way her skin smelled.
§he knew too much dealing with John F. Kennedy; she knew things she wasn’t supposed to know. I mean when you’re boning Marilyn Monroe, the biggest movie star in the world (during that Σra), there’s bound to be some bedroom chit chatter after the explosions of incredible sex subsides, and they lay entangled, and spent. And then conversation ensues…
I’m sure John had a…slip of the tongue about government issues, or the religion behind it that hath it so…illuminated. Maybe his home was bugged, so his handlers heard it all…
Never reveal thy Masters, it’s the Golden Rule. I’ll never reveal mine, because I hadn’t any, and the only bitch that stood in my way, a bitch that used to rule with an iron thumb, I did away with, and crowned myself Queen, as if I was Napoleon (a good friend of mine, before his untimely demise) doing it from behind the walls of his empire.
§o I shut up there. Her death. It’s too much for me to think about, and I can’t deal! §he made more money dead, than alive, as is the case with the biggest stars in the world that were killed, and their traumatic deaths were made to look like accidents, or drug overdoses, or suicides, per instructions of the Puppet Master.
Wanted Dead or Alive.
Ђey make more money when they art erased from the physical realm of life, wiped off the face of the earth, their fans building shrines globally for them, to mourn the loss, angering God over false idols, justifying their untimely death, and explaining why they died so tragically.
Marilyn had star power and was a darling on the silver screen, and her dazzling dresses! Oh my! Ah!
I own them all!
All the originals!
Ђe source of my powers and the demons within, choking the angels into early retirement, redesigned those dresses with the thought that originally went into them by the original designers being the starting point, and the blue print, and the foundation.
I sent my minions scattered about and they delicately gathered every single solitary dress she hath ever worn on the silver screen, careful not to ruin the fabrics per my strict and deadly instruction, and replaced them individually scattered about, and roundabout, with replicas.
Faithfully, I saw all her movies. I used to follow her around, stalking her without making myself known. I murdered mortals for blood along the way, making sure I killed in random places far away from her location, so no suspicion comes about in her realm of wealth.
To my surprise, and complete dismay, I respected her (a mortal, gasp!), and hadn’t met her, but I surely studied her with the heart of a rookie during my first day of college, after screwing my way into it through orgasms and handshake deals, and observed her, and modeled myself after the way she walked, and the way she talked, with thoughts of college never being my agenda, or on my list of things to do. When ye were a billionaire, who needed education?
Certainly not I!
I was taught through the illumination of the darkness, the only form of light there within. Not pure of course, as if from the radiance of a sun ray.
I was speaking of light’s deaf and blind crack head cousin if it had one, if it was a mortal with clouds for brains and an I.Q. level matching that, verbatim, of the Tyrannosaurus Rex. Illumination was a sort of form of light, allows enough soft light to see glittering beady red eyes in a darkened cave with no narrow pathways, air or escape route.
A polarization of Let there be light does exist, however, moreover, and separate darkness from there within to do evil deeds without bringing attention and speculation on thy actions.
Does that mean ye shouldn’t take accountability for them as well?
Ђrough original polarization, pyrotechnics birthed Illumination, the combining of light and darkness, where it ends and where it all began, and where it all begins again...
Who said that separation stopped evolving?
Ђat was her!
I loved the way she signed autographs, and I admired the way she sipped her red wine, and the way she carried herself in public, and the way she handled herself for the paparazzi, and how she held a fork during dinner at the finest of expensive restaurants, and what she wore, oh my!
I am truly inspired!
And the way she wiped her lips after every bite of her meal, and I marveled at how she got her…knees dirty to secure whatever it was she tried to secure!
I loved the way she curled her hair, and I started to curl mine the very same way, back when I used to have a false idol, the only time in my existence I ever allowed a mortal that didn’t know I existed to have my mind, and to have mind control over me. §he’s the only human being, tender earthling, to have power and star power over me.
I would spend my last dollar, deplete of my own funds to sustain hers. But I’m worth too much, and I’m one hundred and ninety-eight times wealthier than she’d ever be.
My money, prestige and wealth was so deeply rooted in the epiphany of earth’s soil, that trees of all kinds, and of all classes shiver with fear from the mere mention of my presence. Long Money and Older than Dirt’s Money provided the basis for the construction of the foundation of my entity, my Σmpire, and my Dynasty (I have all three, three levels of wealth), and was the actual foundation itself.
Before paper currency I was inheriting wealth, dating back to the beginnings of Pharaohs in Σgypt. I’ve been making money ever since then!
Four thousand plus years of civilization kept the lines of my face pinky tight, a flawless, angelic affair that had vampiric men of power, Czars even, having wet dreams about the pulse of my clit, and I hadn’t the time to oblige, unless it was about adding to my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, when I’ve never seen one up close and personal in my entire life.
Ђe radiance of the moon over and under its glow, and it’s amazing luminescence, and the light of unapologetic darkness that brought me this far, has been my security blanket when it comes to quenching my thirst.
I was in an oxymoronic state of mind, a place one remained confused about the dimensions of polarization, and the full scope (the whole story) of it as a whole.
Ah! Odiously, the depth of Polarization’s and Polarizations’ genetic makeup was the Pulse of Life. Ђe Lord’s agenda, snippets of his mental capacity that became One, and continues to evolve, and Become One, will be revealed at the end of the imposing war, after Man and Mankind destroy themselves.
Ђe Alpha and Omega of His understanding brought about systems, governments of all kinds, and classes, conduits of social order, social control, and international social and religious control through the U.N., and they rally, and branch out, and away from roundabout, uncovering (or stumbling upon) avenues of His cranium knowledge and the separation from it was allowed to go, created an upheaval of motion, Matter…
Yes, He yielded, and didn’t prohibit, yet people have become uninhibited, pieces of his genius, and man being made in His image, spiraling and intertwining together into a mesh hall of Uniqueness, and was brought forth only after the creation of Light, and the separation, polarization, of darkness.
I’ve been so many things I’ve forgotten how many guises I’ve actually inhabited, somewhere to the tune of 678,000 mortals.
I make $450,000 every five minutes, from the cash cow systems I have set up or inherited and combined under Alicia, LLC, a quaint little title, but my name is anything but, and everything associated with Alicia, LLC has become extremely wealthy, and powerful.
Marilyn Monroe! Why am I going on and on about her? Maybe because I wanted to, and it was imperative that I share this with ye, because I felt I must!
We must get to know each other, if we art going to get through this tale together, but I must warn ye…
I am as blunt as they come, I say what I mean, and mean what I say, and will kill if my rules art broken…
I loved the way she curled her hair, and the way she used to hum her favorite classical tunes when she applied her makeup, a narcissist of her own design, but owned and controlled by Ђe Puppet Master of her career, and the reason for it.
I applauded her for her love affair with JFK, John F. Kennedy. Jackie Onassis was never a favorite of mine. I mean what was the big fuss about? I know of marble statues that were more celebrated and more beautiful, statues of Greek descent.
I was more beautiful than any woman in the world, I was an arrogant bitch when I wanted to be, but Onassis was never right for a man with a caliber as high maintenance as John’s.
Fortunately, in my opinion, the scant version of Happy Birthday Mr. President! by Marilyn pushed thoughts of Jackie to the §tage Right of my eardrums, both sets, when she unabashedly wowed the President, and everyone around him, and sitting round about.
And even me. I was wet between my legs, soaking in my panties. I could smell my essence in the air, and it had me hot and bothered.
I was there, in the flesh, amazed by her performance, her secret agenda fulfilled.
JFK. He was another beautiful man, one with many demons, and many secrets; but I never cared to watch or examine him outside of what I read in newspapers, and I didn’t even remember what I read, as smart and wittingly sharp as I am.
Ђe revelation of something parallel before its time caused a rift in a quiet agreement, and his assassination was inevitable. I was there! A vampire in a human guise. §o the sunlight didn’t kill me. I just wanted to watch her, watch her bathe, watch her with her lovers, and with John, when she was herself, and watch the things she did behind closed doors, and the secret dealings of her career, I saw all of that, being a vampire certainly had its perks.
Like having V.I.P. Access to any entertainer of my choosing!
From actresses with the biggest awards, and the flashiest of lifestyles, to pop and R&B male crooners, hustlers, producers and engineers, creating raunchy material that hath helped push pregnancy rates at all-time highs, and the global population was reaching (if it hasn’t done so already) about 7 billion strong, thanks to the sexual content of today’s biggest hits, and the violence associated with it.
Ranging from threats put on the artist to keep pumping meaningless psychobabble into the universe to mislead the younger generation into awaiting institutions, prison slavery, to the war in the ghettos and inner cities, the poor against the rich, the poor takes from the rich through a recession of homelessness and unemployment, and that was a huge problem for the Powers that Be, and the ones with all the wealth and power pull the strings, spanking the ass of the root of all evil, to Getty up and whip that cash cow into shape via jobs for the poor, what’s left of them, and milk society like cow utters for the rich and the filthy rich, so rich they art like gods, and speak like gods, and want to be gods but will never be God, Jehovah.
If only I believed, I am in conflict! Ђe Rich dictate our future, whether we want to believe that or not, but not I!
I am just as powerful, and I have my vampiric powers to back up my claim, my active assistant.