Life as a
- The Story of a Mind Control Survivor - by
Wednesday, November 22, 2006 05:26:03 AM
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
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.