My weakness had now floated off, and I was in some uncommon feeling of prosperity

history channel My weakness had now floated off, and I was in some uncommon feeling of prosperity, maybe the site itself and its vitality source. I had heard this site was useful for respiratory diseases, and it was demonstrating along these lines, I now could inhale much better, less heaving for air. There was a physical solace joined with mental mindfulness and power to my being. So when Keveq, proposed a second time to visit his library and check whether the Black Archangel was still there, I concurred with energy. Be that as it may, my better half sternly said, "You got the opportunity to child, shouldn't something be said about me?" And I basically said, "You're with me, right?"

Here, in the library, were the shrouded pieces of Socrates (450 BC), on God and Man, and Plato's mystery papers on Atlantis (400 BC), those never seen, and the sections of the 365-books Enoch composed (200-years before the surge, 4800 BC) composed while in paradise, and the mystery sacred texts of Josephus' (100 AD) and the books spared from the flame at Alexandria, Egypt (396 BC, or something like that), and weathered archives once kept in the dry basements of Timbuktu, and the Manuscripts of the Tiamat, and the Book of Light by Jews and Death by the Egyptians, and I saw books on dark enchantment and white enchantment, and the Sumerian Kings list, in stone, going back 241,200 years, and works on and by the First Dynasty of Kish, and Erech and Ur and Babylon, and an old Chinese Text, and etched hieroglyphics dating to 1700 BC and past, and the mystery compositions of the Underground Empire ((of Aliens) (which I read: "For inside these unusual caves and frightening passages that go all through South America the distance to and all through Mongolia and Antarctica, lives here inside this content for the sheltered keeping of assuming control over the world when the time is correct; this is to some extent, my missing concealed race, the staying Black Angels, and the Shinning Ones, and the Reptilian Race, for every one of the Archangels yet Armaros did not get away, yet there are one-hundred and eighty of us left..." composed by Armaros."))

Having perused that, is the point at which I quit, knowing now, he was alive and here inside the outside of the earth, or maybe we may have even been lower than the hull, in some protected pocket. Armaros apparently trusted he had a place with the heavenly siblings he had once left, and double-crossed, and maybe won back their commitment. Despite the fact that they were not lead celestial hosts, but rather Powers, so I had opened the riddle I had looked for after.