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Life as a Musician
- The Story of a Mind Control Survivor -

by David Marr

Last Updated: Wednesday, November 22, 2006 05:26:03 AM

Posted: Wednesday, November 22, 2006

If you have found my website with this page, please go to my testimony and read the Introduction first.

Important Note: Whenever you see the words "I", "my", or "me", know that I identify the memory as mine to draw it out of the original personality. All of these memories are from Michael. Essentially, practicing my technique allowed me access to them. In essense, I have become the Christian "mirror" of Michael. Anytime that I say "my front (alter)", I am really talking about me, David.


David Marr at the piano


The main innate gift that was cultivated from my natural abilities by the Illuminati was my musical intellect. They gave me all the training, unbelievable breaks, and drugs I needed to develop my talent into world-class form. My main duty during rituals ended up as the organist. I had extensive training on both the piano and the organ, but the piano was more my specialty. This talent alone allowed me to enjoy some incredible experiences around the world. It just goes to show that a star is born through marketing; I was never marketed for fame, but I earned a distinguished name in some prestigious artistic circles. I also used an alias for performances: Anthony de Mare (but it looks like they found me a replacement in my recent absence).

My musical skills were developed in many different areas. I was able to improvise pieces after enough training, and I also memorized complex classical pieces. I remember seemingly breezing through the first lessons they gave me reading music; I don’t know whether I was aided by some special drug or technique. The way I would memorize classical selections was in incremental sections. I would be given a small section to perfect by the next lesson. If it wasn’t memorized and perfect, punishment (as in trauma) was immediately applied. I guess that’s one way to cultivate discipline in someone. Programming sessions with drugs also aided my development. Unfortunately, at this point, I do not remember the vast majority of what they taught me (it’s locked away inside somewhere), as my front has not recovered the memory yet, but I only remember what happened during performances. However, my “body” remembers, as my (front alter) fingers know exactly where to go when I am learning something “new” on the piano.

One time, my mother was asked to have me perform at some wealthy lady’s birthday party at a fancy restaurant. Unfortunately, we were late for the occasion, and the lady kind of yelled at Mom. She was very upset, so I made sure I got to that piano as fast as I could. As soon as I started playing, she cooled off and began listening. She, and others in the restaurant, even started giving me cheers after a while. I think this was one of the times where I was improvising mostly. After the performance, I was asked to come visit the kitchen staff in back. They all congratulated me, and I gave them some of my first autographs. They were sure I’d be famous one day.

As a member of the House of Orange, I would sometimes play in the Netherlands, and two places that I performed at was Philips Hall and the Royal Concertgebouw. To polish my technique before I tackled playing at these venues, I was sent for training at the Utrecht Music College. All of these opportunities were made possible by Queen Beatrix; we had a special relationship.

I had a love/ hate relationship with the Utrecht Music College. I was grateful to have the chance to work with topnotch instructors, but they could be hard taskmasters, and they sometimes put me through a grueling program. One time, when I was working on a delicate passage in a piece with a certain teacher, I just lost my cool and walked off yelling something. I even burst into tears on this occasion, which was embarrassing since there were other students watching our session. The teachers also gave me lessons on the organ, because they wanted me to play the Great Organ at the Royal Concertgebouw, but I think I couldn’t because I hadn’t worked hard enough to acquire the necessary expertise (Queen Beatrix was very disappointed by this fact). I also remember sitting in the corridor near the entrance, waiting for whoever it was to pick me up. A couple of students at the college who were much older than myself stopped suddenly in a state of pleasant surprise. They asked if I was so-and-so, the pianist. I said I was, and they were kind of excited. They gave me some compliments. I may have even given them an autograph.

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