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Cheetah On The Wing 2: The Mental Ramifications of Solitary Confinement
Cheetah On The Wing 2: The Mental Ramifications of Solitary Confinement
Cheetah On The Wing 2: The Mental Ramifications of Solitary Confinement
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Cheetah On The Wing 2: The Mental Ramifications of Solitary Confinement

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This book is the second in a four-book sequel. It is about the author spending time in a faulty and corrupt prison system for a crime he was innocent of. He eventually tried to escape the corruption... and failed. He got sent to Solitary Confinement for one and a half years. It caused in him significant head trauma, that he experienced for 7 yea

LanguageEnglish
PublisherMr.
Release dateSep 1, 2020
ISBN9781952740053
Cheetah On The Wing 2: The Mental Ramifications of Solitary Confinement

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    Cheetah On The Wing 2 - Mitchell Krautant

    _Cheetah_On_The_Wing2-Final-Paperback.jpg

    CHEETAH

    ON THE

    WING 2

    By Mitchell Krautant

    Copyright© 2020 by Mitchell Krautant

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below.

    Ingram Content Group

    One Ingram Blvd.

    La Vergne, TN 37086

    www.ingramspark.com

    Printed in the United States of America

    First Printing, 2020

    ISBN 978-1-952740053 (EPUB)

    mkrautant.com

    mitchellkrautant@gmail.com

    Table of Contents

    0. Introduction

    1. Reading the Code

    2. Crossways Walking of Prison Staff

    3. Clicking of Mind in Time

    4. Angels

    5. The Evil of Families Running

    6. The Waking of Education

    7. The Waking Conference of Things

    8. Magic of the Home Front, the Pittance of War

    9. Travel to Portland

    Bibliography

    0. Introduction

    "You better lose yourself in the music, the moment

    You own it,

    you better never let it go

    You’ve only got one shot, do not miss your chance to blow

    This opportunity comes once in a lifetime."

    (Eminem – Lose Yourself)

    This book is about how people view what is happening in the world with regard to their personal visions of justice and Creation. It explores what the average person thinks about the justice system and the people therein. What about the government, schools, and the people running the show? What should a person do if they’re brought low due to the errors and evil actions of liars in their midst?

    Ultimately, the central question is drawn from people who find themselves in trouble with others. It is an unexpected challenge to those in power: What is going to happen to people in the justice system, government, and even business when they die? Will they still be in power, or will they be punished?

    The answers are surprising. For citizens who follow the holy spirit of God and his Angels, or Muhammed and Allah (if the seeker is Muslim), negative souls will go directly to Hell. For some, it may be nearly a whole life or for a certain period. For others, until time ends.

    Those answers do not sit well with prison staff, doctors in hospitals, the staff of mental health clinics, or businessmen. But they are true. How can a felon, such as the author, know about those aspects of Judgement? The reason is because God and his Angels made it clear to him as he suffered innumerable injustices. So, what is this first chapter about?

    This is a story exclusively about God, his Angels, and how they made me a Priest in a War against evil.

    I initially found what I thought to be God when I first left the Marines Force Reconnaissance platoon. Now, when I was in Force Recon, we didn't really apply knowledge of God to our training. I, as others did, felt that to study God was to study One who knew our pasts, experiences, and futures. I did not pray to God, for I felt that how I was at the core of my being was enough.

    For all I knew, each of our Force Reconnaissance men fell under God's leadership. But wait... the Bible is different.

    A reader will find that these core issues and beliefs will reappear throughout the different chapters of this story. However, in order to determine a reader’s awareness of the higher level thinking behind this work, the story starts out telling what insights the author realized through a preview of God and the Angels that was mentally and physically far beyond the intelligence of an average person. A reader who engages each chapter will find an uphill drive of knowledge of fate, religion, personal interaction, and the universe as a whole. The lessons of this introduction are made in addition to the rest of the chapters. It is delivered as a precursor to an adventure. The story begins here.

    1. Reading the Code

    This is a true story. It is the sequel to Cheetah on the Wing 1: Military History and Downfall. The story begins after my release from prison, which is discussed in the first book. It reflects on when I was forced unnecessarily into solitary confinement and the lawbreaking of the prison staff against me. Next, it moves into the mental trauma I experienced when I got out of prison. I took a college class and got an A in Calculus, but eventually dropped out of college and became homeless. That is how much my brain was working against me.

    As I drove to Seattle, I came across a vehicle passing spot near Yreka, California, a place where Paris lived. She had made herself out to be my mother—when in fact my grandmother had told me that she had killed my real mother. I called her and let her know I was in the area.

    What are you doing now? she asked.

    I am making a study of the places south of Mitchell, my son, I said. The truck has good fuel in it. I am near Yreka. Where are you? Are you in Oregon?

    No, Mitchell, I am in Yreka with your sister. Why are you driving by us? she asked. I want you to come by the house.

    At that I began to worry, for in the past, she had asked that Mitchell—my son Mitchell—be turned over to her custody, and with that she would have been in control of me.

    But Mitchell... she said, and I hung up.

    I wanted an answer about what her deal was. I felt around and found a Bible. I opened the Bible to a random page in a way that I had learned to do in prison, asking what it knew about Paris… and it opened to a page where a woman was trying to be sexual with another man.

    At that, I began to think of Paris being like the whore in the Bible. The woman had a heap of do-gooders that took account of the spiritual things she acquired from the men she dated. Then another man came into the picture and quoted her as evil, so she stripped down to nothing and tried to attract the man. She failed, and he continued the sport of being a wealthy man.

    Throughout the whole, I had to think. I thought of my way there through the Keepers Corp that was tailgating the Devil, as it said on its own sign – the license plate. I began to get dizzy.

    I thought about the Bible, and as I did, I got dizzier. I felt as though an Angel was speaking to me. Seeing Paris was the wrong answer. However, I was having thoughts of naked women, as I had been with numerous women on dates, but having sex with Tammy, Angel, Grace, and others. I began to think about what I wanted. I wanted to depart from the religious-only life of a Priest and begin to live my life with rewards and acceptance from the women I was with. I wanted to live my life as a father. I thought about it and grew dizzier.

    I began to think of finding religion. I felt my chest grow active and hot, and my hands begin to shake. I had a bright light in my eyes, and I could that the Bible, the entire Bible, was speaking to me. I felt as though I was going to die, but to be honest, that would have brought me higher.

    Another car came by my side and the lights turned off. I looked at the license plate and it said 7GOD679.

    I realized that God was speaking to me.

    That was the first time I had ever been given a sign of the true nature of religion. It was the face of a nature that I had believed present in the Marines, but one that I thought would not communicate with individuals to make them move in a certain way through life. But there he was sending me a sign, the overall nature being one of communication and creation. Above all, there was the urge to help other heroes, for the movement of other souls, to move up by whatever means. The feeling was so great that, even though I was becoming visually blind from the activity on my spine and sight, I was motioned towards God on a level of consciousness that I had never previously experienced.

    Flexing, and in revolutions of spine and nerves and eyes, I grabbed a book that was about writing well and asked it what I should do about the negative connotations I had realized about Paris’s nature. Opening it at random, I read:

    "The act of a given manufacturing step can thus be spread over a growing number of units."

    What that means is that when I was driving, the act of seeing things, the feeling of light, and reading the Bible were all steps towards making me into a child of God. The different aspects of the brain used throughout the process, at each step, made me more familiar with the individual steps themselves, but also with what they meant as a whole. It also meant that noticing the smaller steps that Paris took to manipulate me were part of a larger campaign that could spread like wildfire. That is what her abuse was doing to me.

    I was having a seizure inside of that Jeep when I began to shake under the light.

    It was the effect of what an Angel under God can do to a person. The idea of it was to show me that Yreka had sinners in it, and to show me that visiting Yreka, or Paris, would reduce me to a weak person.

    At that, I decided to go to Seattle to scrub fires and see my son. The first step I took was to stop shaking. Then, I went into a northern town. I pulled into the parking lot of a store and parked in the grass. As I did, I began to think of Jesus, wanting to speak to him, and with that, my shaking began to stop. I stepped out and wrapped myself in a blanket, but I did not sleep. I stayed awake and asked God about the stars I saw above the clouds. My mind became aware and I had a sensation that the place I was in was full of the spirit of Jesus.

    Now, let me explain where these ideas come from. The first thing I did after I departed the Marine Corps was rent and watch a movie. The movie was about a former reconnaissance Marine who takes on a protective mission for a young Mexican girl. The girl is kidnapped by some clowns from the Mexican Mafia, and her captor threatens to kill her if he isn't paid. The man protecting her wages a war on the Mafia and winds up getting shot to death after he rescues her.

    I watched the movie, drinking and weeping at the most intense parts. Why, you ask? Because I felt like it was a story about me and Mitchell. Mitchell, the young son who I could only play with inside of my mind. The child who was withheld from me by my ex-wife. He is the son I was not allowed to see for 10 years. God damn the government. God damn them.

    Angels speak in movies.

    I shall discuss as the chapters progress how the Angels speak. By the time I moved past Yreka, I had already been in communication with God’s Angels; I just wasn’t aware of it. This story documents how that happened.

    It was an image of what I would have to go through to see my son again.

    That is where the light came from. It was a voice full in the negativity of those who were against me being a parent. The woman was Paris. That woman was my ex-wife. Those women were the godforsaken crew at Mitchell's daycare.

    In the morning, I went into the place near where I had parked. Inside, I found a carton of juice along with some berries, a cloth, and a box that would hold a book. I also had a disc of music that had been included in the movie I watched.

    By playing the disc, I found that it was written by different artists than the ones I was used to. It was about Hell, not parenthood, and I hated it. In the store, I had noticed many souls being negated for their beliefs. Many items contained ill souls and it turned out that one of those ill souls was drafted on the music I had picked up.

    Now, this article is supposed to be about how I spoke to God and what he wanted from me, as well as how I introduced the concept to others. The facts, however, go far beyond simply stating, I prayed to God and he told me not to worry. Guess again. What I heard was how he prepared people into religious things, and from what I had learned, it is a brilliant gaze from the effect of the book in His name. Why is that?

    Because God is in part educated as far as what book you are told to read, especially those who read books on their own.

    That is a mystery I haven't yet seen. That so, I ask the book On Writing Well how God chose it. And the answer I get is:

    Finally, it's your story - you are the one who has done all the work.

    Holy shit.

    All right.

    How does one talk to God? In my case, it is, in part, by writing about the leviathan that he brings to us all in different ways. I am trying to be a scientist who knows from his studies throughout military school, the prison system, and love. Love, man. Love is insane. I shall fill this with love because that is what God has told me, to give me the ability to foresee and know where we are and what is going on.

    I have been selected to protect Jesus and Muhammed.

    That so, I have chosen to write about them. I shall, and with it, write about a thin and equitable future.

    This is a story about how I found God and Jesus, and Allah and Muhammed. And everyone, except Krishna, thinks I have gone crazy.

    You bet, you. Finding God is crazy.

    This is the story of what happened.

    As I was driving to Seattle in the southern part of Oregon, I considered my own notions of justice. I thought backwards, thinking first about what I had learned in the Marines about taking care of oneself and other Marines. Then I slowly encoded it with the way I had been treated by my ex-wife. On a whim, I began to think about the numbers being switched to me in prison by the man in the stoic car. As a whole, between the Marines, my ex-wife and the numbers, I felt that I was being tried for a crime I had yet to commit.

    At that point, I began to think of the felon Beyjon, and at that thought, I took an exit off the freeway. It was a reflection of the negative influence he had in my life. I noticed that what he had said as an inmate in prison at the Monroe Correction Center was the equivalent to what I was seeing before me.

    The town I went into was called Beyjon. I realized that somehow, through clairvoyant thought to myself at an earlier date, I had come across Beyjon’s safety deposit - or his pre-generation, not that I think of it. I could use his story from the prison environment as a whole for degenerating him there. I drove through the town and kept my eyes on what mattered.

    The buildings as a whole were equipment places that acted like outlets with guide-on equipment like barbs, desks, or cannibal figures in quaint dress echoing taking to those who came there to sell stuff. At that, I noticed one had, at its lair, a hat which looked exactly like the one I had in prison. It had been taken from me during an unauthorized cell search. That occurred while Beyjon was giving his spell, and sure enough, he was behind the theft. I wrote down the address.

    And with that, I went over my memory, and could remember things Beyjon had said about others in prison. With that memory, I went over everything I could see inside the buildings: papier mâché notes on refrigerators, puzzles across tables, origami, money on a table, a suture kit by a burnt dress, and other items. They had all belonged to those who had been stolen from and put into an environment of suffering: one run by the stealer Beyjon.

    A song played on the radio, given by an Angel who watched what I did. The song went like this, driven on by Pink Floyd:

    The lunatic is on the grass,

    Remembering days and lunatic of laugh.

    That song went along speaking of identity as I thought about my life. I was glad to get attention, even though I did not want to be called crazy. People who thought I was a lunatic, I felt, would try to do me harm.

    I drove all through the town, taking a hard look at the damaged houses. It looked as though they were owned by the poor.

    The town should have been religious, but my take was that it was not.

    Then, on one building next to the freeway, I saw a sign that said Crystal Geyser Camp. I understood from my self-revelations at Whiskey River in the Marines that Crystal Geyser was a parent of mine. I recovered that from childhood, when at one time Paris took us there as children and told us about religion.

    I knew immediately that Crystal Geyser was the female of water, an Angel of what people like me could be a part of. At that, I began my drive down the freeway to Crystal Geyser, hoping with all my being to meet that Angel.

    Here's what happened on my trip:

    As I drove, I began to notice that all the signs to houses or streets were Irish or Israeli. I noticed a house named Baggins and Telescu and Newsome. With that, I began to feel attracted to the Israeli side of myself. I opened a can of something to drink and it spilled all over the dashboard. I began to feel the side of my stomach and it became apparent that Beyjon was using magic against me after sensing me inside his home.

    So I asked the book, What shall I do against Beyjon? It said:

    "It is like randomly shuffling a pack of cards and figuring out that the cards are arranged in perfect order, ace to king for spades, hearts, clubs, and diamonds...and report this 42 times."

    What did it mean?

    What that meant was that I needed to remember what Beyjon had said, and his behavior, in a way that equated all of his sayings and activity in a clear number with each action being a different card. I could use that information to understand his work and the evils behind it.

    That was what happened. I began to shake at the thought of Beyjon. I slammed my head into the steering wheel and noticed energy draining itself into the Jeep, across the windows and then taking an awesome leap into the steering wheel. As it did that, I knocked it free by smashing my head into the windows and the steering wheel. Suddenly, I noticed that the car had stopped. I looked out the window and saw a truck with a damaged back end. I had hit him.

    I get out and he yelled at me. I showed him the tea I had and began to stumble about. At that, seeing that I was hurt, I took off, stepping into the woods behind him.

    And that was how I fled the accident. But it wasn't just that. I was searching for the souls of the Israeli people.

    I walked through a large wood covered in snow. I looked hard and found a set of elk tracks roving through the lawn of the forest. I wondered if there were any elk by my side. There weren't. And my feet hurt. There were planes roaring overhead, almost asking to be touched. I could sense them making a positive path alongside that which I walked. I saw them as signs of flattery. I knew that people would be searching for my footprints. I only wanted Israelis to know my prints. At that, I took off my shoes and began to walk barefoot through the snow alongside the elk prints. Throughout it all, I kept a clean site for rabbits, considering that they were on the borders of Jews in that area.

    I walked barefoot through the trees, keeping an eye on the airplanes. The planes began to send messages to each other, orchestrating between a high-shuffle to a mediocre one. I figured they were calling me, and from me making an unobstructed message to the Jews. As I watched them, I alternated from them to the signs of the travelling rabbits.

    The word rabbit, I thought, was the same as Rabbi, a Jewish care professional and religious man, but without the extra b and the t. That was what I thought of while looking for them.

    As I walked, I thought deeply about what Beyjon had said and knew that I had to keep myself hidden from those who would consider me a criminal and put me away back into William's house. The officers that walked into that cell were part of their own system, which moved from one bad knight to another in torment of those whose souls were astray. That was their goal: to do as much damage to quiet people as possible.

    With the planes, however, I felt like they were trying to say something to me. So, I listened. After a period, I began to equate their rhythms to songs I had heard. Songs. To that I felt an ominous tiding and forwarding to my past. The birds were reciting to each other in Marine speak, their sound similar to that made by a C130 aircraft. To that I felt happy.

    HAPPY!

    The birds were on my side!

    I made it halfway up the hill I was climbing. I felt very tired, so I laid down in a soft spot under a tree and went to sleep.

    That was where the skunk hit me in the leg.

    I woke up to the sensation. I looked down and saw in the shadow of the moon that there was a skunk licking me in the thigh. I felt like I was part of the trees. However, I felt weak. The lack of food and drink was bringing me down.

    The skunk got up and began to walk up the hill. I got up and followed the friendly creature.

    I searched for a brief second and found footprints of rabbits there. I looked in and tried to flag one out. It didn't work. Then I opened up the Bible I carried in my pocket, and in it, the page said, (You) are inhuman the way you seek out prey. Be gone with you now, traitor, and find God the hard way.

    I could not believe what I had read, but looking at the way I was handling business, the only thing a person would think of me (except those who live on the streets) was that I was not natural. I was depressed. After looking for God in so many ways, I was challenged to drive through Beyjon and see the traits of Beyjon, which hurt me. Beyjon was the one who, when I was in prison, sat in the cell next to me and quoted biblical verses like passages from Job in such a way as to drag them apart, always saying in his own verbs that he was being saved by God. In fact, he was the one who drew a pentagram with Beyjon stamped into it in the corner, opposite a drawing of all the main cities in America.

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