The first “Syncblast,” the blog name indicating that the content fits on all of my websites, dates back to June 5, 2023. Fast forward to the updated Constantia story.
In 2023, an unexpected turn of events occurred when my special acquaintances Stan and Lana ended up in a Spanish prison for about a month. As the only one who had extensively written about Stan, a few journalists from major newspapers approached me. In July and August 2023, I reestablished contact first with Lana and then with Stan, leading to my St. Anna blog on August 23, 2023, the Joran van der Sloot phone conversations on August 31, 2023, and the Joran van der Sloot files on September 12, 2023. I perceive Stan as a mythical figure, someone of biblical proportions, epic. A heavenly gift and a devilish ordeal that few will endure. On October 18, 2023, the long-awaited trial of Joran van der Sloot took place, during which Joran once again escaped with a tremendous lie about Natalee Holloway. Van der Sloot’s story about a cinder block and dumping Natalee’s body at sea, which all experts agreed could not be true, was rewarded by the Alabama court with a very favorable plea deal for Joran. This disappointing trial made it clear to me: Stan did not want to meet with the FBI before Joran’s trial to sign his St. Anna statement in person. He only brought this up on October 27, 2023, through a WhatsApp message to me. He also expressed indignation about Joran’s new lies and said he now wanted to meet the FBI. I never gave up hope that Natalee would be found at the St. Anna Cemetery in Aruba, and I shared Stan’s commitment with my Instagram followers. I didn’t reply because I was angry. It then became suspiciously quiet on Stan’s side again. He did not follow through on his commitment to meet with the FBI man. In early 2024, Stan suddenly emailed me with unprecedented harsh and accusatory words about my silence, only to backtrack in a later email. To be continued, undoubtedly.
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My parents, who in my opinion, given their own unresolved traumas, would have been better off not having children, fell severely short in the physical, mental, and emotional guidance of their offspring. Through the mysterious pathways of the cosmos, Rob Nanninga came to me after his passing in 2014, and an unprecedented loving soulmate bond emerged, in which both of us experienced tremendous growth. Those who cannot fathom this need not believe it. In the currents of Rob’s presence, I discovered aspects of myself that had previously remained unexplored. As a teenager, I urgently needed braces and speech therapy (due to extremely rapid speech), but neither my mother nor my father ever suggested anything of the sort. Consequently, crucial mental and physical matters were neglected, leaving me without the self-confidence that I undoubtedly would have had with a childhood rooted in a solid foundation. In an extremely dysfunctional family of divorces, daily quarrels, and a horror house overrun by mice, I felt like the lowest rung on the ladder as the youngest child, a teenager, and still, as an adult, an outlaw. As best I could, I transitioned into student and work life thereafter. Despite enjoying interacting with students, there was always an unrecognized urge in my mind to not remain long with an employer in formal employment. My Sagittarian nature’s desire for freedom, combined with my upbringing in a completely dysfunctional and shattered “family,” proved to be a combustible combination. Writing books about out-of-body experiences in the 1990s and 2000s, and everything that came with those experiences, proved to be a guaranteed trouble magnet for me as a teacher. I gained publicity, fell out of favor with a few school administrators and parents of students at the private schools where I taught. I was never fired, but chose to leave on my own accord. I stumbled from school to school. Even a few relationships with direct ties to school intersected with my career. My “princess-and-the-pea” body was equally adept at attracting problems. Various allergies, hypersensitive airways, and now my increasingly troubled eyes do not make me an ideal employee. If there is no fresh, clean air somewhere, I immediately get a headache. I can no longer type quickly, and I constantly make mistakes because my eyes are increasingly failing to coordinate. From around 2007 to 2013, I attempted entrepreneurship, which unfortunately yielded no financial gain. From around my 45th year of life in 2013, I essentially ceased paid work altogether. Driving for Uber and Lyft in 2017 and selling trinkets on eBay for years are also unsuccessful ventures I erase from my CV. In the great book of the cosmos, beside my name it reads: ☑️ Work-challenged individual.
I got married on January 6, 2005, and officially divorced on April 8, 2018. My ex did not fulfill his promise to remain friends; I wanted to, but he did not. He is still recovering from a very serious airplane-jump accident in July 2022. On his social media, I read that he is engaged, and I wish him and his fiancée all the happiness in the world. I will always love him. It was probably a karmic thing that we were together for such a long time in this life. Fortunately, he did honor his alimony obligation, which ends at the end of April 2024. Lately, I have been trying to find new roommates, but it seems it’s not meant to be? or not anymore. I recently realized how much everything I use, such as clothing, food, shelter, technology, is provided by fellow human beings, and that humbles me. I don’t know how I will financially make it. From May 2024, I will solely rely on the crypto pot I have accumulated and carefully managed. I have often asked the Cosmos: what do you want from me if I am not successful in any career aspect? The only answer that keeps coming up is that I need to learn to trust, my only major life lesson, in terms of karma and destiny.
The Cosmos seems far from forgetting about me, quite the opposite. On Friday, January 5, 2024, after grocery shopping and a walk in Folsom Park in the early evening, I drove home. Driving in the dark on Highway 50, plagued by road constructions, proved to be no success formula. Suddenly, a white 2018 Nissan in front of me began braking forcefully, and I felt myself pressing hard on the brake pedal. Startled, with wide eyes, I saw myself collide with the Nissan with tremendous impact. All I thought was, “Oh no, my car, total loss.” No fear of death or pain (which wasn’t there). Immediately, the airbag deployed, and I emerged with my head positioned correctly. It was softer than expected. A warm, “angry” electric burning smell pierced my nostrils. For a week, I had some innocent neck muscle pain. There were four vehicles involved, and the front one, a truck driver, simply drove off. There was only material damage. Perhaps my brakes failed due to the soft feeling of my boots or a slippery road surface; I simply don’t know. I can’t think of anything else but fate. The car was a luxury that unnecessarily burdened me with costs. The ten-year-old Honda Civic was suddenly taken off my shoulders without any further ado. The State Farm claim number 55-61K9-08R made a cosmic “Beep-beep!” sound to me: the 55 from Rob’s birth year and the 8R from infinite R(ob). My liability was only $500 deductible. What mattered to State Farm was my very low mileage, between 58K and 59K miles, and not the three previous serious damages incurred beyond our fault. With the typically huge American payout, I paid off debts and invested the remaining amount in crypto. Due to my car being towed by Tow Express, and not by State Farm, I unexpectedly saw my car again and even found, once again as a sign from the Cosmos, my brand-new Oakley sunglasses. The Tow Express man suddenly asked if I wanted to dine with him in Davis. I hadn’t seen that coming, and with a surprised smile and a thank you, I declined.
Later, I suddenly remembered what Rob’s Skepsis colleague Jan Willem Nienhuys wrote to me about Rob in 2016: “He certainly didn’t have a car. Maybe he once had a driver’s license. His father died when he was 26. He used to drive a 2CV in Groningen city traffic and was crushed by a truck that braked too late. Since then, I don’t think Rob ever drove a car again.” Now I regularly do groceries with my bike bags during or after cycling, which makes it more enjoyable and mindful. Maybe I’ll rent a car sometime to drive, for example, to South Lake Tahoe. It sounds strange, but I’m happy with this outcome.
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Then about my body. Both old, lifelong, and constant factors play a role, as well as silent revolutions. As I age, already 56!, I increasingly feel the slowness and heaviness of the earth. I haven’t written books about life as a spirit for nothing. I often look with envy at people who peak or die relatively young. Due to increasing nighttime stomach pain, I’ve stopped the daily and lifelong use of paracetamol. At night, there is often an unpleasant, painful, electric sensation around my stomach area, and as a layman, I describe it to myself as a leak in my stomach area. But as a result of that cessation, an old phenomenon has returned: unrest in my left temple, which translates into a disturbing pulsating sound that I hear in my left ear at night when I wake up after an intense dream or when I startle from something. I suspect I have a predisposition to blood clots and narrowed vessels. I still consider my account of my experience in my first book “Through the Window” about the “Operation by the Unknown Being” on June 1, 1996, in which I was relieved of a threatening blood clot in my left temple, to be true. Sometimes when I can’t sleep (a lifelong problem for me), I drink whiskey with an alcohol percentage of a startling 50%, in the middle of the night or in the early morning. I had to learn to drink this extremely strong whiskey, and I automatically thought it must be bad. When I looked it up, I immediately ended up on a website that praised all the benefits of whiskey! I have no tendency towards alcoholism. I believe that 50% whiskey on an empty stomach is actually good, despite it being a bit scary. After emptying my special iron flask in the early morning, I often wonder, “Will I fall asleep now?” At that moment, it often doesn’t feel that way. But yes, every time. Suddenly I’m completely gone, usually for 4-6 hours, my consciousness extinguished, almost like a death that many believe there is nothing more to. My body has gained some weight now that it’s no longer deceived by cannabis, but with self-control and intermittent fasting, I try not to revert to the heavy weight I had during my marriage and the three years after. Cycling and walking help with that, but I do it because I still think it’s great.
On December 7, 2023, I wrote my will, appointing a roommate I had in Davis as the heir to everything that belongs to Constantia Oomen. Don’t worry, heiress, I’ve been extremely condensing and tidying up the house. I explicitly stated on my websites that my family will not inherit any authority or estate. Of course, there are families who are real families, as they were once intended by God, but my family has never been part of that. I long for a life with my soulmate Rob Nanninga, where he and I, and hopefully as a real family, can show how it can be done differently. And yes, I think I can, and I’m 100% sure about Rob! Fingers crossed that he still wants that (still?! We remain skeptical). I do. I do. Sometimes it even feels like he’s physically close. Hopefully, he is. Rob and I don’t form a closed-off house, so we are open to beautiful encounters.
(Courtesy various images unknown, please let me know if you would like to be named as a rights holder)
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In the dance of souls, bound by fundamentals, I embrace my beloved, partly in unseen realms. Yet, open to entangled connections, With honesty as light, Our love, timeless, never to end.
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Rob, the Lions, and I are ending this blog with luxuriously decorated multiverse cakes and a new Rob Nanninga inner crew Lion named Surprise. Through my Instagram, a latent interest has been aroused, and I think Rob is also interested. I always imagine him as my personal chef, to whom I mentally ask while cycling if he is already making the Huttlefluffs, Hammerdabbits, and Bakerdoodles. The variation of fantasy words is endless, and we have the greatest fun with it. Once, Rob said in his mind that he had already made the Flippityflakes (I don’t remember the word anymore, it’s not important), and they were highly haute cuisine, colorful, artistically decorated cookies. Rob showed me with a conspiratorial look that if you broke these cookies in half, you literally saw whole worlds and galaxies. Now, that’s what I call next-level cookies!
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For the new, increasingly difficult to find, Rob inner crew lion, I had to go to Ali Express, which still has a seller who sells them. I eagerly awaited the shipment directly from China, and one day, unsuspectingly, I looked in my mailbasket and saw a compact round ball wrapped in plastic. Confused, I thought, “Huh, did I order clothes? I don’t remember.” The next moment, it dawned on me with a shock: “Could it be the lion?” With a cry of horror about its shipping fate, I let the lion come into the world by carefully cutting open the intensely tight plastic with scissors. Like the previous lions, he emerged from plastic, and the analogy with childbirth was always apt. Despite being somewhat crumpled, he came out miraculously with minimal damage. I brushed him, did everything to make him beautiful again, and succeeded! He is extremely soft, with probing eyes and a filled neck and back, pleasantly solid, and fits perfectly in my embrace. To be continued.
The Lion hearts blogs are long blogs, especially Part IV and Part V are sturdy bites (each good for around 16,000 words), and together they form one whole. That is why I have merged part I-VIII into one .pdf file. Admittedly, it is the avant-garde of a real publishers edition, but I still present you with satisfaction the blog book:
Rob Nanninga’s last address in The Netherlands: Westerkade 20. Constantia Oomen’s last address in The Netherlands: Weststraat 20. 20+20 2020 Publication date 5-20-2020, in the Netherlands + 9h: 5-21-2020 (Ascension Day 2020)
A year that leaves no stone unturned! To change our life. This planet’s life? To change my life? Nature-endorsed! Or so it seems. The odds are turning in a dramatic way. A pandemic. And no clairvoyant (if they exist) predicted that. This is Lion Hearts VIII with mostly a daily-life update, so not so much about dreams and out-of-body experiences.
I am not in contact with my ex at the moment. I did jump out of an airplane with him on June 13, 20191
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My unemployment status is unchanged. The impact of the pandemic was pointedly illustrated by the fact that my neighbors-for-years on one side, including their dog and cat, moved away from one day to the next. The house has been empty since. I haven’t asked them, but I am pretty sure they got affected by the pandemic. My living situation has also come under pressure because of the pandemic, because both roommates leave early and I have to look for new roommates. The rents are sky high here and if I fail to find roommates in time, I will not be able to continue living in this house.
My fingertip skin-cracks problems haven’t been resolved yet, and the ripples in my nails are still playing a an ebb and flow tide game.
I still cycle a lot, and I still miss the physical Rob every day. But he is there, he speaks the language of love through the sweetest and most handsome lions. Strange as it may sound, through these lions, I am even able to feel the warmth of his physical body. Every day, I make sure the lions stay in perfect shape. Despite the enormous “distance”, we still live together and I see him especially while cycling: how he stands in * our * kitchen, with his homely apron tied. Cooking for us. At night through the lions I feel his enormous warmth, support, love and eroticism. The extreme number of orgasmic eruptions is comparable to last year. This is paramount beyond words, More-Than-Heaven descended to me on Earth!
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On October 26, 2019, I met Dutch Melanie who’s working for the vegan cheesery and buttery Miyoko’s at the Kombucha tap of the Davis Food Co-Op. After one random greeting at the Kombucha tap, Melanie immediately noticed that I was Dutch, and said she was too. She lives in Petaluma. Twice I drove up to Rohnert Park, which is nearby Petaluma, and on one occasion met up with a group of Dutch people who meet once a month, at the invitation of Melanie’s.
It had been a long time since I drove further away by car since the divorce. Unfortunately, I have become less mobile in terms of driving longer distances. I just miss Rob as a partner and don’t see the fun of traveling on my own, with nobody to share the travel excitement with.
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Gym blues
Due to some human complication at GetFit, Davis, I canceled my subscription. I scratched the surface of this earlier-on.2 My Get-Fit Davis membership was ending in January 2020, but I already stopped going in December 2019. I signed a monthly contract with In-Shape, Woodland in December 2019. Although they do have a great modern gym and a lovely massage chair, something happened there that made me realize that this was not a second home to me, like GetFit Davis was. Apparently the chickens had not come home to roost yet. So I canceled my subscription again. Then I decided the UC Davis, ARC gym might be my best shot, but by then, the pandemic had already started, and I realized this was a good chance to unwind myself and just give it some time. Not so much later, all gyms in California were mandatory closed. Again, I had walked faster than time, a phenomenon not new to me, so by then there wasn’t even a choice anymore. I’ve been thinking about returning to GetFit, Davis in the future, but considering this human complication, it’s very fraught. I am not sure K will be ecstatic to see me again. To be real, I have no clue what K is or is not thinking about me, but there was something big going on, of that much I am sure. Maybe go to the “Noah”‘s ARC in due time?
Plans for the Netherlands
This year I had made more concrete plans to visit the Netherlands, my family and my father, and meet with some virtual friends for the first time: Sjaan and a (virtual also) friend in Amsterdam, too, she invited me to stay over at her house.
Sjaan is someone I got to know through the Robbert van den Broeke and Stan affair. This Robbert van den Broeke-Genverbrander story has always been a lateral but important thread in the Lion Hearts blogs. I have known her for almost five years now. She sent me an email to offer some moral backup in this Van den Broeke case, and that’s how we started our shared path. Sjaan is a sweetheart, always thinking about other people first. She lovingly cared for her partner when he fell ill until the very end. But she’s not only sweet and fuzzy, she has a razor-sharp, alert mind and, like me, can’t stand hypocrisy and deception. Countless times she technically assisted me in researching the photos and videos of Robbert van den Broeke, which she runs through metadata programs with stunning results, because they always show he’s (still) faking it. Without any exaggeration, she is as good as a professional detective and would, in my opinion, do an excellent job as a police detective. For the past five years she has continuously supported me, both professionally and personally. What I find most exceptional about her is her incredibly flexible mind, she is able to adapt like a chameleon, with a thousand and one beautiful and pure colors, forever young!
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Also very important part of the trip would be to visit Rob’s former house on the Westerkade 20 in Groningen, which I have never seen in real life. I am sure, if it comes to this, something very special will happen. 🌟 And then another goal in Groningen: the Mercuriusstraat 1 in Paddenpoel, where I lived for five years in my youth. And I always long back for the Dutch Fairytale Theme Park the Efteling. This visit would be the very first since my emigration in 2011! I already bought an expensive travel bag that would pass the hand luggage system for the purpose of bringing one of Rob multiple lions with me. I don’t want to lose sight of the lion nor do I want to create the chance that the airline will lose my luggage.
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However, the pandemic intervened. The question now is: when and if I will ever return to the Netherlands? Sometimes it seems to me like I have already died like Rob, in this emigration situation in paradise California, where you can check out, but never leave?. Perhaps I am not supposed to return?
Magical Realism continues
Thanks to a heads-up from the Dutch Beeld en Geluid Media Archive on August 30, 2019, I was able to get hold of one more video with Rob Nanninga in it on September 5, 2019. Kudos again to this amazing Institute! Though the footage didn’t bring a real new Rob image, it did bring footage of his study that has become very dear to me, because it reveals so much about Rob Nanninga’s student-like lifestyle, which is so very similar to mine. The more I extract from the wheels of time, the more it is confirmed that I am right about Rob and me and the thousand and one things that forge us together.
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On Tuesday March 10, 2020 I was cycling again and I passed through Winters. And on Tuesdays there always is, come rain or shine, or even wildfires,3, imperturbable, not changed by any ripple of the world’s events, the Oldie Cars Show. I fancied two oldies in Rob’s colors, see the photos in the gallery below. Rob always had a preference for the color turquoise or blue (but more turquoise-ish), just think of the old Skepsis website, designed by Rob. And don’t forget his blue jackets and shirts! I thought to myself: Yes, these are really Rob Nanninga’s cars! Later on, well on my way back on the Winters Road, I was cycling, lost in thought, when, of all the oldies in all the towns in all the world, only(you have to take my word for it) these two turquoise oldies passed me by, one after the other. I took it as a magic wave from Rob, and in my mind I saw us riding in them, our hair in the wind through the open windows, under a very happy sun. This is just one example of the happy, worlds-coming-together events I experience with Rob.
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It was only in December 2019, after having lived on this address for already over eight years, I realized I am even living under the roof of Rob’s colors. Admitted, it’s a common combination color in Davis and surrounding areas, but it certainly isn’t the only one, and still, I ended up here, right?, where these colors prevail.
Robbert, Stan and Alan
This part is published separately too on my Parameter WordPress. If you wonder why this extensive piece also appears here: this is an important part of my life and it really has an impact. Moreover, it has a very direct overlap with Rob Nanninga since he was and is also working on this, if it is true that there is afterlife. Also, I get the impression that Rob is helping me in the "background", that he is forcing the gentlemen to show their cards.
As I already mentioned earlier on in this blog, it’s never that far to Robbert and Stan, and his husband, Alan, as they are intertwined in this story.4 I have been involved in this case for fifteen years now, an incredibly long time. There are a few notable developments.
Robbert
The first one is that I finally have blocked Robbert van den Broeke from sending emails to me. His official acquittal in the threat case for which he was arrested, allegedly for lack of evidence, in October 20185 was no reason for Van den Broeke to choose a scold and threat-free path, and he just continued with his hate emails.
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I know that Rob Nanninga had already given up on the “Genverbrander” case by 2012, now that Robbert had been definitively exposed as a con artist and it had also been demonstrated that Van den Broeke conducted online diatribes for which even the dogs would turn up their nose, but I kept it up much longer. For many years I remained curious about what Mr. Van den Broeke had to say to me and allowed his emails, admittedly only through a filter directly in a separate folder. But for some time already, it has been perfectly clear to almost everyone, except to his most loyal fans, that Robbert is a lost cause and that there’s not much honor left in investing energy in researching his actions. He got stuck and all he has been doing for a long time is endlessly repeating everything he once said and did, including his fraud tricks with fake spirit and “alien” photos, all his “loving” messages to his fans and all his hatred towards me and the skeptics in general.
Nowadays, he’s even going with mainstream conspiracy quacks, for example, about the link between 5G and Corona Virus. He did remove one crucial conspiracy clip about this later-on.6 These conspiracy theories are by no means innocent, as believers broker them in everyday life and, for instance, are no longer willing to get vaccinations because they think the government secretly implants chips or they are deliberately poisoned with mercury. Some people even torch 5G masts. Van den Broeke has been publishing many YouTube clips the last year, addressing all kinds of “spiritual” subjects, even addressing me a couple of times.7 It does seem quite innocuous, this new trend of endless preaching videos. I would prefer them any time over his ghost / alien photos and videos deception. Unfortunately, he still does those too, including auto-mutilations on his forehead that he claims are alien and christ signs. I must say he has built up a quite large motley collection of “spiritual” subjects and hence his interest in all these topics seems genuine. Still, in my opinion, there is not much reason left to invest a lot of time and energy in him.
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Robbert sent me a whole bunch of hate clips and emails again, a part is in the Google Drive. There’s one Van den Broeke activity I do want to mention. Still working with Johny Webb, yes, the man from the octopus, Van den Broeke published a “channeling” with Adolf Hitler. However, the accompanying text about it and the clip were posted on Webb’s Facebook and YouTube channel. I tweeted about it and then someone reported Webb to Facebook (it wasn’t me). Shortly after, Webb’s facebook went completely black. The clip is still there, but I uploaded a copy in Google Drive just in case:
Fall 2019, I expressed the idea on Twitter to turn the Robbert van den Broeke blogs into a book and I had indeed already worked on it several times (that has come to a standstill). Obviously, this idea was immediately picked up by Van den Broeke and I got his hate emails about that too. Also Stan emailed about it a few times.
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I suddenly couldn’t digest Van den Broeke’s emails anymore. After another hateful email from Robbert on December 14, 2019 I decided to block him completely. Every time Robbert e-mails me now, his email is instantly deleted and Gmail sends an automated message that he has been blocked and why. Since then, not one single email from him has popped up ever again and I have no idea if he sent them. I am very happy with this decision!
Stan and Alan
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Stan Pluijmen is another matter. Stan never seemed hateful in the emails he signed with his own name. It’s a long story, and I don’t feel like repeating everything here. In short, I did not block Stan. I always hoped he would come around, detach himself from Robbert and would no longer participate in their shared lying and cheating games. But Stan has been bouncing like a yo-yo. Stan increasingly emailed me messages that he had changed and in which he admitted to (some) deception by and with Robbert van den Broeke. According to Stan, there is this part to Robbert that’s really “psychic” though. Anyway, Stan and Robbert are no longer a cheating duo together. At least, I see no signs that they still are. Stan even seemed burdened about the past, because he knows better than anyone how much hatred I received through Robbert and through his own, questionable to say the least, network. He even started offering me financial “compensation” in BTC, but I only wanted official compensation, through a notary. For literally years he kept on pushing me to take his money, through email, this started with him offering me money if I deleted the blogs on Parameter, see previous blogs on my Parameter WordPress.8
Stan seemed quite desperate about the existence of my Parameter blogs, he approached it differently too and tried to lure me into a “deal” that if he/they were able to “channel” the code word I would think up for myself and make that official by entrusting somebody with it, I would remove all my blogs. But I didn’t take the bite.
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In 2020, for a reason I don’t know, he upped his BTC effort considerably, he said/says it was/is because he likes and loves me, and wants to help me. I did kind of become curious (again) if he was just saying things (again), and posted my BTC wallet address publicly on my Genverbrander10 Twitter account.
That wasn’t the first time I did that though, I did that in 2018 too. I discovered bitcoin in 2017 when I was trying to order my allergy medicine Ebas from a foreign country, because it’s not available in the United States and they asked for bitcoin or wire payment. Wire payments are expensive here, so I thought to give bitcoin a shot, and with BTC payment, they offered a standard 10% discount. It was all very new to me, and on one day I even posted my bitcoin wallet address on my Twitter account ConstantiaUSA. I tried to find the specific tweet, but I guess I deleted it. I only recently (April 2020) learned that you can indeed publish your BTC wallet address safely after you properly secure your BTC wallet. Though I did that in reverse order, nothing happened. I guess I hoped some magic pigeon would deposit BTC in my wallet. This all must have been mid 2018.
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In my Parameter blog I already mentioned the fact that I on impulse and more or less jokingly asked Stan for 1.5 million in 2018, because only then would I feel compensated for all their nuisance and remove my blogs. The underlying idea was that with such a fortune that I could start living very differently, and that I could actually see this as a serious enough compensation and move on.
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I didn’t email Stan about it, in fact, I didn’t email him at all, everything went through Twitter.
But in 2020, things were different. I suddenly received a bitcoin amount deposited on April 8, 2020. Stan had made a deposit! And the next day, after some tweets from me that I was willing to receive Stan’s compensation as an official gift, two more “donations” came, bigger ones, not a fortune, but significant. Well, in total it was about half a bitcoin. It was worth about euro 3200 at the time Stan deposited it. For connoisseurs: of cryptocurrency, this could be literally nothing or it could be quite something, in the future.
I see it as Stan’s free-will compensation that still is on the symbolic side. His compensation doesn’t come close to the real disturbance I had. My critical attention to this case – I literally spent thousands of hours – was indeed my own free choice and everything I did was public. In my opinion, I always stuck to the facts and kept my criticism fair and decent. But it was no choice of mine to be stalked for so many years: 2012-2019. I received hundreds of hate and death threats from a whole bunch of different mailboxes and names, both known and unknown to me, with photos of beheaded, run over and battered (dead) bodies, scolding videos, I was hacked and even threatened with hitmen.9
I can’t be sure where Stan got his money, in emails he says he got it from tricking online casinos. Stan Pluijmen claims he’s a modern Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving it to the poor.
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On April 25, 2020, I decided to listen to exactly two years of unopened audios of Stan, a rollercoaster of several hours in the afternoon and evening. Since April 2018, I wasn’t listening anymore, because I got angry with Stan, again, since through yet another unsolicited email, he “offered” to ask “medium” Robbert van den Broeke for my Google drive password. As you can understand, I don’t believe in Van den Broeke’s “medium” password reading skills, I do kind of believe in Stan’s or .?.’s hacking skills, so that pissed me off. I really hadn’t been listening secretly, as Stan suggested in many of these audios, he even stated in his audios he was willing to bet a lot of money (did you say one million, Stan?:)
on the (not existing) “fact” I was still listening, So, now Stan is owing me even more. 😉 Not listening for two years and then all of two years at once, in one day, really turned out to be a golden shot. So instead of getting everything in pieces, I now got everything at once, which gave me a much better overview and the distance created in the time dimension was also very good for me to be able to view everything much more at a distance. The audios were insightful, I listened to about hundred audios and their line was consistent: first I heard one year of the old fashioned Stan woo-woo, but since April 2019, Stan started singing to a different tune. This was ushered in by a series of very curious emails in which Stan seemed to have stepped outside of himself and somewhere in the deep universe, as a miracle of mega interpretation of the secrets of the cosmos, spoke about synchronicity, mythical symbols, God, Satan, extraterrestrials and our shared destiny.
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Because I was receiving hatemails of Robbert van den Broeke about Stan and Alan simultaneously in which Robbert was kicking furiously at Stan and Alan, even sending me an audio from Stan in which Stan could be heard crying and completely beside himself, I could tell something was going on. In his audios, Stan’s tune changed and; in the most favorable way interpreted for Stan, you can say that he indeed seemed awakened from a bad dream or spell, he used phrases like: “I embarrassed myself, I let go of Robbert, what have I done? Robbert brought me to things, I am no longer under Robbert’s trance, your blogs may stay online because they are correct, the curse of Robbert…, there is no hacker, I’m sorry, I admit to my mistakes … “. Of course in this case, it’s hard to tell truth from lie, but Stan’s Spring 2019 and beyond audios were indicators that the firm trinity Robbert-Stan-Alan (Stan’s husband) had dissolved. Both Van den Broeke and Stan Pluijmen were suddenly emailing me the(ir) “whole truth”: (click on gallery images, this is how I received it) GoogleTranslationRvdBTheTruth
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When you merge these Robbert van den Broeke mails with the following Stan Pluijmen audio:
10:40: Stan “There is no hacker” (> in Robbert van den Broeke hate and death-threat case) 12:20: Stan: “I admit, I was Micha Romijn”.
in which Stan states that he has not been hacking casinos, like Van den Broeke claims, but that he did trick casinos, I think the following could be a realistic model of what really happened: working theory: Stan discovered some weak spots in online casino mechanism and cashed out a lot of money. With a number of fake IDs or other people’s IDs (people knowing about it and collaborating and who he generously compensated for it), he was able to repeat the casino trick. From the Robbert van den Broeke clan respectively from somebody mailing with a “Micha Romijn” mailbox I had been receiving two complete IDs, one of “Micha Romijn” one of a female family member of Alan Sieradzki, an old lady who has since passed away. This “Micha Romijn” stuff was much more sinister and like reported in my Parameter blogs.
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WordPress later-on in 2017 removed the fake Micha Romijn ID pics I uploaded in my Parameter blogs. Somebody had complained and I doubt WordPress sees the difference between a real and a (well-recreated) fake ID. So if someone came with the same ID to complain, they had no reason to act differently than usual.
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Stan Pluijmen confesses in this audio that (indeed) he was “Micha Romijn”. But I could tell by the emails I received there is another person involved, because I recognize Stan’s language and tone of voice, and there were quite some that were not from his pen.
After many years of experience with this whole group around Robbert van den Broeke, the facts (so no suspicions) are that the men are playing battleship with each other’s mailbox, wanted or unwanted. For example, I got a picture of Stan that, according to Stan, was very ugly and it seemed that someone in the room had seized his phone and sent it secretly. This is just one of many examples and I have also explained and substantiated this in my Parameter blog(s) In this regard, it is actually best to read all my Parameter blogs. Because of the enormous chaos that arose from this and which I think was also erected partly intentionally as a smoke screen on the side of Stan, the men ended up in a kind of large, inextricable tangle of cohesive material.
It seems that the gentlemen are holding each other in a delicate balance of compromising facts, and that they may well be quite afraid that the other person will leak information to me, or whoever wants to expose the truth. The many snitch mails to me could be explained by the tense atmosphere between the men, in the spirit: “If you do or don’t do that, I’m going to leak (mis)information about you, watch me, I am not bluffing.”
The “Micha Romijn” person was a piece of the puzzel that didn’t sit well at all with Stan. International police should investigate the motive of “Micha Romijn”. Because WordPress acted upon the complaint from I have to assume possibly the real Micha Romijn, that the (fake) ID pictures should be removed, it appears Micha Romijn must (have) know(n) that his ID was being abused (i.e., it was sent to me, and was it used for playing in online casinos?). In my opinion, all likely scenarios should be investigated. Two important ones: 1. it should be investigated whether Micha Romijn received money in exchange for the use of his ID or 2. that he is a victim of ID fraud. If latter would be the case, then why wasn’t any of this on the news or emailed to/communicated with me or other journalists in any way with convincing evidence? Because I had made some real public fuss about this MR ID, that it was sent to me, just like that, I had extensively tweeted about it with even the un-blurred images of the several ID photos. Moreover, the ID pictures were published on my WordPress site, for everybody to see.
Rachid is another person involved. I even received an email from Jan Willem Nienhuys, my good friend from Skepsis.nl because Rachid was trying to contact me in vain (?) and he tried his luck with Jan Willem Nienhuys. This Rachid seems to be somebody close to Robbert, Stan and Alan, who has been hitchhiking along on this whole case. Robbert van den Broeke claims in his email that Rachid received a lot of money.
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I then received a lot of emails from Rachid too, but call it intuition or experience, I didn’t like communicating with him, it felt pointless and like speaking to a twisted mind. Nothing came out of my communication with him and I discontinued it.
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There is also this thing with Dutch crime reporter John van den Heuvel in Stan’s audio. I conclude from the aforementioned audio that Robbert van den Broeke has been spilling some beans towards John van den Heuvel and said to Van den Heuvel that Stan is hacking casinos. As known, John van Heuvel was visiting Joran van de Sloot in his jail cel in Peru, so there we have it again: the circle Joran, Stan and Robbert.10
The two audio files of Leydi Figueroa Uceda sent to me by Stan Pluijmen fit seamlessly into the picture Stan has or had power over Joran and Leydi, because if someone, especially imprisoned or poor like Joran and Leydi, gets very large sums of money, such as these two from Stan,10 this person/they will be more readily inclined to do “weird things” for their benefactor.
And it all fits with Stan’s strange sense of humor and his obsession with me.
To return to Stan’s “confession clip”: Stan says in this audio he had been set up about this casino story, but that he wasn’t arrested, “Just ask John van den Heuvel, it’s true”, which would confirm that he is innocent of hacking casinos.
Stan had confided through emails earlier on that with Joran van der Sloot too, he had cut ties. Alan had his say in this audio also:
and both seemed scared of Robbert, they seemed to think or acted that Robbert had put some sinister curse on them.
I haven’t talked much about Alan, Stan’s husband. The truth is, I like him, just like Stan, but I don’t like their covering up of fraud and deception (Robbert van den Broeke, Joran van der Sloot, et cetera related). That makes all of this extra incomprehensible, I mean, they spent many years in the make-the-other-crazy-but-often-not-in-a-fun-way game. There were and are some sidelines with Alan, like the time I talked to him through his Twitter account. That didn’t end very well and he even deleted that account. Later, and in line with what Stan often did, he denied, but also confirmed that he had been that person on Twitter. I also received emails from him, but most were obviously from Stan using his email address. I could tell not only from the language used, but in these emails Stan simply wrote about the he-person: Alan. Some of the emails were from Alan and in these emails he always seemed very friendly and truly reaching out to me as an independent person (from Stan), although he seemed outraged a couple of times at some of my responses on Twitter. It can certainly be called a fact that he is an absolute insider in everything, since, as Stan’s husband, he lives with Stan day after day.
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Stan kept saying, over and over again, that he loves me, even calling me an “universal source of love”.
The “old” Stan, December 25, 2018:
Sending emails from the mailbox of Robbert van den Broeke:
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And, same day:
The “new” Stan:
My firm impression is that many more people are involved in the Robbert van den Broeke-Stan Pluijmen-Joran van der Sloot and so on (than the already in this and previous blogs mentioned names) case, possibly even well-known names from the Dutch and international conspiracy and para world, and that casino fraud and para-fraud are not the only illegal business. Also consider Stan’s rare stubbornness about Natalee Holloway’s alleged remains in Grave 15 at the St. Anna Churchyard in Aruba. Even Joran briefly mentions that St. Anna in the clip Stan via the mailbox of Robbert van den Broeke dropped in my mailbox: (I provided English captions):
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In April 2020 I received an invitation from a Dutch radio maker to talk about all this and Stan also received an invitation. Stan doesn’t want to and again only communicated this to me:
Stan says some interesting things in these audios and especially in this audio “15”: that he hates the web of lies he got into, and that he is threatened from all sides, but that it’s okay by him when/if I publish all his audios because he loves honesty. He also says that he had already recorded an entire audio for me, was “too honest” – and wonders if there is such a thing as “too honest” – and that he consequently deleted this audio. He talks (again) about his (former) drink and coke problem, and says the audios between 2018 and now on average were recorded with this addiction slur. He also asks if I don’t want to make fun of him and that he loves me. He goes on to say that he doesn’t think he can buy everything off with money. He doesn’t feel like thrill journalism about Joran van der Sloot, and that he’s not exactly boosting himself for being Joran’s friend ,and that this journalist who invited both him and me to talk about Joran van der Sloot and co must think he’s retarded. And also in this audio you can notice that he wanted to say something, but then “caught” himself, something “too honest” again?, and then his sentence stops.
To me it all seems the tip of the iceberg, and my hunch based on the thousands of emails and media files I received in total, is that this whole case has been a smoldering volcano that will erupt once. My personal hope is that this eruption will be thorough and that the whole cesspool will really open. There will be many “losers”, but also some big winners, and I hope Natalee Holloway’s parents will be among those winners to get the information about their daughter Natalee Holloway, which they have been entitled to for all these years, but never got. It is now (on May 30, 2020) exactly 15 years ago that she disappeared.
Something else to conclude this with: to this day, Stan never got my “secret request” (and no, this request is not about money). I asked something from Stan on Twitter, but it is up to him to see what it is, and because they claim to be clairvoyant, I was amazed that this wasn’t, and still isn’t, the case. And Stan, yes, this secret request still stands.
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Edibles
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The cannabis market has been released in California since late 2016 and I started experimenting with it mid-August 2019, though my initial try-out only lasted a month. My ex introduced me to it. My body however is not easily impressed. I quickly took more than only one or two of the 5mg THC edibles and up to something like 35 mg THC, leaving my ex far behind me, dose wise. Because of my body’s high degree of acceptance, real trips, as people imagine them, with bright colors and spacey effects, are more exception than rule with me. One trip felt like being in the water tunnel of Sea World, I hardly remembered my location my bedroom and I was boldly (though a little scared, yes) adapting to the new situation and hang-gliding in there, in that “green tunnel”. It lasted about an hour and a half.
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The main effect of the edibles is that I sleep again. And that on average I feel a bit tidier and happier, more my old, more powerful self. I think everything in your mind is also reflected in the chemical balance in your body, and sometimes I think I’m increasingly missing “happy connections” in my brain, which seems to be offset by the “mind-altering” effects of cannabis.
In previous blogs I reported quite severe sleeping problems, a problem I always had, but they have mainly dissolved by now, which means that the sharpest edges are now gone. I sleep again even though I am still a light sleeper. It seems I have been catching up for a couple of years already. I initially quit the edibles after a month, because it seemed to me my body and mind weren’t fit to get high. Maybe I’m on a natural high already. My nightlife always has been very intense, just call to mind my lifelong and so very frequent experiences with intense dreams and out-of-body experiences. It is striking that as soon as I use edibles, I hardly or even don’t remember my dreams and out-of-body experiences and so on at all, even though I know I had them, by brief surfacing images. And as soon as I stop using the edibles, the clear memory of dreams and astral experiences returns immediately, mostly the next day already.
But on March 1, 2020 I took it up again. Something in me was stirred to give it another try. I longed for the diversion. I was already looking for distraction eleven days before the Corona Virus disease was declared a pandemic on March 11, 2020.
Immediately I entered an area that I now know a little too well about myself, namely not knowing my limits and being beyond measure, because I overdid it immediately, leaping from 35 mg THC last year to 50 mg THC this year. I got lucky the first time I took 50 mg THC and I had quite an adventure with Rob and the Lions as the lion was turning into a lion with extremely realistic male genital sensations.
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Overconfident I repeated the amount four days later, and, had I had to wait for hours for some effect this first time in March, this time the cannabis supreme being struck very quickly (a signal that I have come to know as being the signal that you can also quickly end up in a danger zone, or: you are already in it). Something almost immediately went horribly and shockingly wrong.
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A Brain Rollercoaster From Hell started to spin faster and faster with increasing noise, distorted images and the feeling of falling apart into dislocated body parts took possession of me. I tried in vain to stay on the wheel, but quickly realized that I was losing all control, no turning back and I just had to sit this very long Rollercoaster ride out. It is like getting under water in a maelstrom and being dragged along. I have experienced a near-drowning in Scheveningen sea at one time, so I know the feeling.
It got so bad that I had to stop myself from calling for help and an ambulance several times. I have heard about this through my ex, there are a lot of people who really go, respectively are taken, to the hospital. I could never have gone myself, I couldn’t even leave my room or go to the bathroom, and I didn’t want to, because my roommates were both at home. I wanted to save myself the embarrassment. I managed to go through this hell by my own, but really barely, just hanging on to a last strand of incredible stiff-headed willpower that I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. I’ve never been so sick of anything in my entire life. My brain had ended up in a not-merry-go-round with a thousandfold squabble, I heard deafening percussion instruments like someone is hitting them only inches away from your face, even had an extreme smell sensation, but strange as it sounds with no specific smell, coming from nowhere, popping up like a cloud just right in front of my nostrils, a black-magic trick of the brain par excellence, and all this made any redeeming sleep impossible. I saw strange moving shadows, and my sickly reciprocating body could not calm down, my limbs no longer seemed to be attached to my body, and my brain was already a loosely floating unit. Everything was way too intense and I was so sick of it all, I couldn’t walk a meter and then the vomiting started for hours.
Still, the biggest Kudo goes to Love. Even in my darkest hour I was aware of my love for Rob and my cherished inner crew lions, sitting all around me on the bed, as they always do. I managed to keep them out of the turmoil, they stayed safe and clean the whole ordeal. I never touched them, nor did my upset stomach reach them.
I spun in my head and body, it felt like a near death. There was nothing I could do than to sit this out, my position ranged from sitting on the floor against my bed to half hanging over my bed, not able to lie or sit straight. Only after many hours did it start to disappear. Had I been punished for my nonchalance in taking 5 strips of each 10 mg THC! I had done it before, but this clearly was a jump straight into the ravine. It could very well be that one of the strips was spoiled again with a higher dose, but much more probably the THC messed up with the paracetamol and Zyrtec I had been taking as well just before I took the edibles (so I took the Paracetamol, Zyrtec and edibles at the same time). It must have been a chemical poisoning. When I consumed edibles with a total of 50 mg THC late April, 2020 again, nothing happened, not even a trip. I was just quickly lulled into a thick-clouded sleep.
The cannabis is having an effect on my appetite, it’s (very) reduced, I have already lost quite some pounds, but I am still overweight. When I restarted with the edibles in March 2020, you can say I was heavily overweight, probably my heaviest bodyweight ever, despite the many bike rides and the gym, no, I won’t tell what it was. Also not new to me, namely that everything always seems to work differently than average for me: cannabis causes a sharp decrease in my appetite and certainly not the “Munchies” (binge eating) as many articles about cannabis say, so quite the opposite. As I now tend to get nauseous quickly, a side effect of cannabis that is known and that indeed applies to me, my food consumption is very discouraged in this way too. And I rarely drink pure whisky anymore, because the combination with THC in my blood seems to be a bad one. Moreover, because I often sleep through the night now, I no longer snack at night which I did regularly.
With the edibles I sometimes end up in the morning when I wake up, or try to wake up, in a kind of semi-coma. In a previous blog I already described that I tend to lose contact with my body at night much more than usual, just call to mind my out-of-body experiences, but also think of my paralyzed limbs because they are in the wrong position, because I am far away. With the edibles I sometimes have the greatest difficulty in reconnecting with my limbs and regaining control, which is reflected in the fact that I cannot erect myself in my body for a while, let alone my finger or moving my hand, while I am just conscious and awake.
The Brakes
Something is hitting the brakes, which is reflected in my dream and astral life.
Two equally strong currents are pulling on me: the knowledge that there simply must be life after death, but also the skeptic objection of still seeing too little evidence. Rob was right that the dreams and out-of-body experiences don’t provide enough evidence in themselves. For instance, astral travelers are not able to see hidden number sequences or words while out there, and tell researchers the correct numbers or words.11
But the Rob lions Love connection does offer evidence to me. Rob’s love is extremely palpable and robust, like a physical body, which is proof to me that something incredibly strong is going on. I told about this earlier on: how completely devastated and empty I felt after losing my cuddly rooster and for years, I couldn’t find any cuddly toy that offered me anything. The magic had gone, taking with him the Love. Only after Rob’s passing in 2014, Love returned to me, and now lions are filling my heart, but only because Rob fills each and everyone of them with his love, but especially the multiple Rob lions (still nine in number). I couldn’t do it, I had tried and failed miserably, and consequently, somebody had to step in. And there was only one person really who could step in. That man was and is Rob.
Time passes by and the things that surface – many kudos go to the wonderful Beeld en Geluid Media Archive (TV appearances, radio interviews) – confirm that there indeed is a “mysterious” connection between Rob and me. This story also seems to tell itself, about every year a puzzle piece is added to the overall picture. I got to know Rob before ánd after his transition, but I only got to know his real, warm energy, how he feels up close, after his transition. I would now recognize him out of millions, he has such an incredibly strong, pleasant and warm, full energy, I see his beautiful Rob face and goatee, his full lips and enchanting, mindful, investigating, demanding and devoted looks.
We áre living together, by means of odds in science that are not fully investigated yet. I have already walked a little way down that street in my Quantum Entanglement blog. The Rob-Constantia daily orgasmic outbursts, extreme and heavenly beyond words, are still in full swing. This is Reality. This too is beyond doubt: we really are a match made in Heaven-Extreme, we are alike, in how we live and think. This is not accidental nor short-lived (I think I/we have already proven that after 6 years after Rob’s passing), and spelled out in the stars. Forever. This connection is able to stand the test of time and any distance.
I quote the following nightly experience, because it got me thinking about the true nature of our contact. Ever since I let go of my biased ideas about the nature of “astral experiences”, I’ve been open to new ideas about what life after death might look like. I think Rob and I are mirroring each other, a venue I started to explore in my quantum entanglement “explanation”.
On April 12, 2020 I had a curious encounter with Rob (as always: hurray if I see him by any means) and many of my Rob featuring dreams, astral journeys, or whatever you want to call them, are characterized by playfulness, magic and hilarious twists. In short, the following occurred: I lived in a rather dark, but nice house with roommates, but it was not in Davis. Rob was there too! I was so happy to see him! He was in his middle-age, firmer statue appearance. I showed the house and I pointed to the chimney and said to Rob, “I would love to live in the chimney, I wish I was much smaller, then you and I could live in it!” This chimney was a corner in the house and resembled a column of light, it looked cozy and warm. Rob walked down to the chimney with me, briefly looked up in it, with an inquiring glance, and then said with a faint smile on his lips, a bit like he was high, but not exuberantly, and rather dazed, “Well, let’s do it then!” I was thrilled about his response and happily replied: “For real?!” I took his hand in mine and we walked together, his hand felt just like he looked: a little limp and clammy, numb. We walked to the first floor where it was much brighter and where dinner was held, there were quite a lot of people already. But the surface was skewed, so the tables were also skewed. Because there was no walking space next to the tables, Rob and I walked over the tables to our seats in the back. However, I accidentally on purpose started to slide, while walking on these tables, then lost my balance completely and sailed back to the lower point, taking things on tables with me. “Sorry! Sorry!” I shouted out laughing heartily. I think I did this to get Rob’s attention and to make him smile. The atmosphere was exuberant.
At first, I didn’t understand Rob’s “numb” state. Now I start to think that Rob and I really mirror each other, maybe not all the time, but often. We do more than react to each other, we vibrate in the same state. We still do, even if there’s a whole universe of distance between us and no one informs us about what the other is feeling or doing. Rob was kind of numb and high in this event, but so was I (After all, I had eaten edibles during this time and the cannabis can also remain in your blood for many weeks). Now I don’t know about edibles, so far out in the universe, where Rob is, but they must have something there too. 😉 In this way, the ultimate clairvoyance exists by virtue of simultaneous vibration, even if there is an immense “between” space. You could also conclude that Rob lives since I live too. And where will we both be when I too leave my physical body? We’ll take it from there. There.
Future
“It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream.” ― Edgar Allan Poe
Since the divorce I have been sticking out my feelers about financial matters, and through a financial divorce arrangement through my ex I was entitled to a little money, but it wasn’t that much. I’m looking at things like stocks and bitcoin, but it looks like I’m going to need a big miracle to get out of my financial insecurity. It seems the only thing I truly feel deeply is that I don’t want restrictions on my freedom. My best talent seems to be my freewheeler talent and in this society, that’s almost unheard of. I tried several work/career things, but none of those really stuck to me. Maybe I was meant to be a freewheeler? Some people jump straight up the career ladder after high school and get applauded, and they therefore feel encouraged to step it up and with success, but I’ve been searching all my life and still haven’t found my destination. I have had my share of wrong turns much more than average, or so it does seem to me. It certainly seems I have been handed over to the gods in this way (whoever or wherever they are). Will my eternal happiness star, allowing me to live this uncertain lifestyle, abandon me? We shall see.
Time is passing at an alarming rate, especially when you look at families and how fast their children are growing up. These fast evolving children are the mirrors of your own age rapidly speeding up the higher numbers. The hour of truth is drawing near. After all, I don’t want to be old. This keeps me pondering almost every day, how to free oneself relatively painlessly from this physical body? There seems to be no easy answer. There still is some time left, but the clock is ticking a bit louder each day.
Rob Nanninga Quotes
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Gallery
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Footnotes
[1] See the photos page on my personal website too and this YouTube clip. My ex was the one filming. He gave me a free SkyDiving ticket as he is an enthusiastic skydiver.
[2] See Lion Hearts, Part VI: “Under the umbrella of “Let’s get physical” I can add the following: for me there is one striking case in Davis, something that has been going on for years now. I believe that if there is such a thing as a past life – or should I better talk about timeless life from now on? – I “found” the man who killed me as a girl of about sixteen years old in a (past) life […] I wanted to report it anyway.”
[6] His turn to conspiracy theories with regard to the Corona Virus didn’t go unnoticed and was picked up by several media groups. NRCGeenStijl Mentionable is the fact that only a fraction of the YouTube commenters on this GeenStijl clip knows Robbert, some even think it is staged or that Robbert is an actor. It could also be they don’t recognize him, as he has changed very much in appearance. Van den Broeke received more publicity in May, 2020 when he was interviewed by Ybeltje Berckmoes of aspiring Dutch broadcaster “Ongehoord Nederland“, “channeling” Right-Wing leader Pim Fortuyn who was murdered by Volkert van der Graaf on May 6, 2002. Both aspiring broadcaster “Ongehoord Nederland” and Robbert were buried under severe criticism and scorn directly after this was aired.
Location: AnotherDavis, California Date: Sunday, May 27, 2018 Rob, middle aged, and Constantia are in the kitchen in Another Davis. Rob wears his homely apron. Rob says, “We’re going to bake cookies for your birthday.” Constantia: “But it’s not my birthday.” Rob: “I know that, but that doesn’t matter.”
When I looked up the origin of this performance on 6 January 2019 and found Fred Astaire and this fantastic clip, I immediately knew that I had found my new Lion Hearts VI title.
Funnily enough, I found the song following a reply from someone on a scientifically not entirely correct tweet about Happiness: (and look at the colors and the steppin’ lines of this clip and those of Fred Astaire, synchronicity?)
Why does this performance appeal to me like that? It’s because of the shameless burst of happiness, portrayed by Fred Astaire almost literally dancing out of his skin. Instead of Fred Astaire, it’s now Rob who comes to pick me up, for our own personal “Steppin’ Out”!
This blog covers 2018 and a small piece of 2019. On April 9, 2018 the divorce from my ex became official. About one year earlier, ex and I already went our separate ways. What happened in this year?
Throughout the year an extreme amount of raptures1 with Rob, even more than in 2017, occurred again, especially made possible by the sweetest lions in the world: the Rob multiple lions. I have counted the petite morts and most striking orgasmic outbursts, which regularly occur more than “only” once a night. I think that other word is unpoetical, well, I’m going to use it now anyway: orgasm. That multitude per night is not included in the tables in which I only count the nights with raptures. So supposing there is indeed an afterlife, you can say that Rob and I, as a constant erupting volcano, are going through the roof of the universe. I’d rather say: not-so-afterlife, because as far as I am concerned Rob is not “after” but now (still). For me, the image of afterlife and “astral life” increasingly is being replaced by an image that I find more appealing and accurate, namely that of multiverse and parallel worlds, more as in simultaneity. Maybe there is no such thing as “after” (and in line of this: “past” and “now”), but rather an “always” existing life.
What sets the lion hearts on fire? I look for appropriate words everywhere, but I just can’t seem to find them, and by now I am starting to realize that I need to end this quest for words, to acknowledge my failure, to accept the fact that the bridge to my reader is not formed by words alone. As it’s simply not possible to describe what has been going on for years now, since the moment that in 2005 I met Rob virtually, no matter how I describe it and which words I use or deliberately avoid, I can only hope for very telepathically gifted or highly sensitive readers, now and in the future, and accept that until then Lion Hearts mainly is something for Rob and me, like a Sleeping Beauty who will sleep at least a hundred years, without ever be seen and kissed awake, or like a private garden opened up to the public, but visited little. In any case, these blogs have great value for me: I cherish the flame.
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Another Davis
Before sharing some highlights of raptures, OBEs and related experiences, I will give a bird’s eye view of the year 2018. There wouldn’t be much change visible in 2018, but at a closer look, small and lesser small landslides underneath the surface would become noticeable. I have been living at the same address in East Davis since 2011. I did not get a (new) job. There was a changing of the guard concerning one of my housemates, at this moment I have both a male and a female roommate. A crack in the ice was made in the contact with my two sisters F, since 2018, and L since 2019. My haltered relationship with music, as told in my previous blog, slowly began to relax and is transforming into the gorgeous butterfly it used to be, but that process’s still taking a good deal of time, and I’m not there yet.
Since finding the magical KDRT Grass Roots radio from Davis on my $3.50 Sony Dream machine – I purchased in the local Thrift store on October 11, 2018 – tunes have been flying into my life again. Davis’s DJs are leading me back to the Music Avenue. In addition, thanks to YouTube suggestions, I also found a few bands that really appeal to me, such as Sonne Hagal and Novemthree. I don’t think Rob knew them, but I don’t know for sure. But I think that he will/would (have) A-okay(ed) them. My musical taste since Rob’s death has shifted in a specific direction. In the past, I used to like mainstream pop also; now I’m mostly into the no-main stream and alternative music, like (neo) Folk music, just like Rob. Regular pop and well-known music, I often find much too boring and superficial. Davis’s radio is a folk music haven, so this was a match made in heaven just waiting to lift off.
Either way, Davis in California proves to be a magical place. A fact that has reached more people, as you can read in the Davis Wiki: “Davis, 10 square miles surrounded by reality”. The K-DIRT, 95.7 FM radio has inimitable programming, with recaps at quite unexpected times. For example, I tuned in at around half past twelve in the evening to hear to my delight Ruth Chambers read her first chosen fragment of “Alice in Wonderland”. Thirteen days went by and I turned on the radio in the morning at eleven o’clock, which I never do (I always listened in the evening). Imagine my surprise when at exactly that moment Ruth Chambers starts reading her second selection of “Alice in Wonderland”. As if it were not a disproportionate number of days and hours later. In my opinion, this is an interaction between the town of Davis and the people who have an antenna for this kind of magic. And magic wants to be confirmed, because during this second part of “Alice In Wonderland” I got a message from USPS that my second special lion ring had just been delivered. I already told you about the first magical lion ring.
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Perhaps it’s no coincidence that the magical story of Rob and me, the Another Davis, is set here. Davis is located between two cities, and is already known as a magical bubble, a Snowdome; San Francisco is on a one and a half hours drive away to the west and at a twenty minutes drive to the east lies California’s capital city, Sacramento. Davis itself is completely surrounded by farm fields which make it if it were an island. It’s a world in itself, with its own magical laws.
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Maybe the Californian sun has a psychedelic effect on the brains of a former Dutch potato-head like me. For people who aren’t born and bred in California with a hot-summer Mediterranean climate, but in a temperate maritime climate, the powerful Californian sun certainly can have an enhanced impact on both mind and body. Compare it with someone who is not used to alcohol and then drinks that corn liquor. Especially in my after-cycling hours, after having spent up to 8 hours in the Californian sun, I always feel a big boost that you probably can compare with being high. I still never used cannabis myself, let alone hard drugs.
Incidentally, I think Rob would have had a great time here in the musical university town of Davis, and now indeed has a great time here, in Another Davis. The talented wind and percussion instrument students around the famous Davis Picnic Day are an ultimate match with Rob. When I once sent him links to my “Battle Of The Bands” YouTube clips from Picnic Day, he enthusiastically wrote me how well he liked the music they played. See for example this and this clip. Nowadays I sometimes even upload something personal on YouTube. I actually think both Rob and I are hippies. And yes, no better spot to be hippies than here, where it all started.
In other words, slowly but surely I am moving my way back to my true soul life, which I almost lost during my marriage.
Let’s get physical
In 2018 I was plagued by physical issues. Thanks to my thorough diary notes, everything can be viewed reliably and chronologically. The first part of the year was characterized by both lengthy back and heel pain, but despite these ailments I could just keep on cycling (so still kudos to my body!).
In the summer of 2018, and to be precise: on August 8, 2018, I cycled into a smoke poisoning. That morning I had published another blog about Robbert van den Broeke and Stan (and pals) and after this I decided to go cycling, although Northern California was agonized by severe wild fires all summer and autumn long. Did I in a previous Lion Hearts blog write how well I like the California smoky air, this year my body cocked an eyebrow in terms of its consequences.
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I cycled to Lake Solano again, but noticed that this time the smoke was not that of a cozy campfire, but rather a filthy, chemically heavily polluted imposter, and when I realized this, I wanted to go home immediately. But as this wasn’t possible, because I no longer had a partner that I could call to pick me up by car, I had to cycle back for about another two hours. In all those years I called my ex only a few times in cases of force majeure, such as having a flat and no repair kit at hand, or an underestimated, no longer cycleable temperature of 46°C.
I will repost following pic from my personal website. I took it when I was experiencing an almost–heat stroke while cycling in Vacaville temperatures of about 115°F equaling 46°C, and no, I’m not exaggerating in the numbers:
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When I cycled back, I was erratically upset about a mistake that I, while going over it in my head, had just discovered in the newly published blog and that I wanted to correct as soon as I got home. Immediately after this bike ride, I became ill for weeks and with months of aftermath. My head, throat and lungs were not in a good condition. Furthermore, it was once again exorbitant hot at night (and during the day) in this summer, and the following weeks and months were mainly characterized by physical discomfort, in which I possibly developed the onset of Sleep Apnea, outlined by a halting in breathing and/or periods of shallow breathing at night. I repeatedly experienced this at night and then I would wake up, startled, and instantly gasp for air. Also, the considerable burden in my head (the “iron fog”) that I talked about earlier, continued to this day forth. This iron fog is explicitly not the normal fatigue spray after too little sleep.
Around the end of 2018 I stopped with the energy drinks that contain the complete amount of sugar and switched to the zero and low calorie variants, but I carefully choose only variants without aspartame, because aspartame has caused me migraines in the past. The reason for the switch was that the amount of calories (260) per can didn’t feel right to me anymore. I still use plenty of Paracetamol however, standard three to six tablets per day. And I upgraded the caffeine amount in the energy drinks when that opportunity offered itself at a favorable price:
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In 2018, for some reason and quite consistently, I awoke every hour or every few hours, and on top of that, often around 4 o’clock in the morning too, and especially around that time the pressure in my head increases so, that I just have to turn the light on and sit up straight.
The following may cause a frown, but I tell it the way it is. The paracetamol tablets with caffeine actually relax my head. I take three by default when I go to bed, and my brain is much less inclined to doze off without it. I do not blame my alertness at night for the caffeine, for which I seem to be almost immune in terms of its stimulating effect; even after occasionally drinking energy drinks with 300 mg caffeine in the evening (plus the intake of three paracetamol with caffeine tablets), I can fall asleep.
I switch on the light at least once every night. By default I take the iPad to keep me busy with possible unhealthy virtual activities: the scouring of Twitter, Wordfeud and the internet. Contacts with the Netherlands (+ nine hours) can of course be properly maintained in this way.
Since I was already confessing in my previous blog, I will continue to do so now. Regularly I became so desperate of my own peaking brain activity, that in 2018 I started to try a new method: drinking a, for my doing, fair amount of whisky in a very short timeframe, up to about 200 milliliters per time. If you now indulge yourself in pictures of me having a good time while doing so: well, no, not exactly. I pull funny faces while adding the firewater to my bloodstream. Why do I do it then? No-brainer (literally): to knock myself out, because there really seems to be no other option. I usually do it in the early morning, and once in a while even at the exceptional time of 6 or 7 o’clock in the morning, after having struggled my way through the night. It could be a secret tip somehow, because drinking pure whisky in the early morning hours instead of in the evening, lets me experience a pure and often pleasant rush. However, the best relaxation method for me will always be: sex with Rob, often made possible through the Rob lions! After this, I can almost always sleep well and quickly (how often I still wake up after this, is another matter).
I also tried the widely available sleephormon Melatonin for a while and that worked out quite well, but after some months my period went out. While this was occurring during my marriage, I asked myself: could I be pregnant? But this wasn’t possible, for reasons to remain undisclosed, so I looked else where, and found that it was simply the Melatonin that had changed my hormone level. And indeed, when I stopped using it, my cycle quickly returned to normal.
If you think I have become an alcoholic now: no. My knock out activities in the early morning are not exercised very often. Recently (2019) I hit myself with the whiskey boxing glove again, and then had to make amends for two days by a rather severe migraine attack. I couldn’t eat and drink and my highly offended body only tolerated water. After this, I didn’t dare to drink whisky for weeks at all. The idea alone nauseated me. I particularly find the aftertaste of whiskey unpleasant. I never was a serious dipsomaniac candidate. My body has – or seems to have – a strict tendency towards healthy, and grounds me when I drink too often or too much for its likings. I regularly curse my body’s stubbornness. Where other people get trapped by their bodies (obesity, alcohol, cigarettes, etc. addiction, or even serious, life-threatening illnesses), my body is putting its foot down while saying sternly: “I am your boss and you shall obey.” Again and again, I try to spawn my body not to be so potentially long-living. Hopefully I will succeed. Otherwise I will be looking for more draconian measures, because my desire not to grow old, continues unabatedly.
Yet it still seems2 as if I not quite involuntarily take over Rob’s puffs, because Rob also drank at night and in the early morning. In a communicative mood he once emailed me the link to a picture of his advantageous German alcohol:
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My sleep in early 2019 does seem slightly improved, but I don’t expect it to last, given the hot and wildfire-troubled area where I live.
Maybe I’ll still manage to become not as potentially long-living, because my diet has been shifting a bit since 2018. I consumed less fresh fruit and raw vegetables and regularly prefer fast food such as white rolls topped with generous margarine and vegan (that on a positive note) “ham” slices. After inhaling too many hours of California wildfires smoke, my throat was narrowed, and swallowing became less natural. I developed a tendency to swallow too quickly. I suspect that Rob also had this fast food tendency for some time and I would like to look into it, provided I was able to do so.
My blood pressure is not longer standard on the low side with an honor badge pinned on top of it. In addition, I have a, sometimes painful, peeling skin on the fingertips of my left hand. My right hand, to a lesser degree, also is affected. Furthermore, the left index fingernail shows several large horizontal, colorless ridges (existent on most of my other fingers also, but to a lesser degree, all colorless, so not red or yellow) and falls inwardly. Deep horizontal grooves like these are called “Beau’s Lines“. I think the intense use of my iPad is to blame. I tried keeping it clean and using a stylus pen, but that hardly brought any relief. It’s just not possible for me to do everything with a stylus pen. Horizontal nail ridges are caused by severe shocks in the physical or mental system, as a result of which the nail production temporarily interrupts which in its turn causes a disturbance of the protein formation in the nail. The body simply prioritizes another, more urgent matter. Shockwaves reveal themselves like this through the appearance of your nails, and the nearer to the root of the nail they are, the more recent the shockwave.
I would like to remind the reader of my astral experience in 2015 with Rob in which I saw that he had “gnawed fingers“:
I discovered something very off with Rob’s left hand: his four fingers excluding the thumb were attached to each other, and they looked very “chewed off”, tortured.
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Incidentally, I do not know if Rob actually had some battered fingers, like me now. I do know that he, like me, used the iPhone and iPad very intensively. He sent me an overview of all his iPhone apps on March 10, 2010:
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Just for the purpose of introducing myself, I went to CommuniCare Health Centers in Davis in the autumn of 2018 and I told Dr. Marci Snodgrass about my crackling voice since my cycling in smoke in August 2018. As a result, she gave me a referral to an ENT doctor, Dr. Steven Wright. He made an internal video of my throat with a mini camera that was inserted through my nostril. He saw that there was a spastic muscle at the bottom of my throat and said that this was the reason that at that moment I could not say a continuous Aa, my Aa was staccato, whatever I tried. When I mentioned the fact that my breath was halting at night, Wright wanted to refer me to the Sleep Research Center in Woodland. I liked the idea, especially because of my “astral” background (OBEs and related experiences). Incidentally, the same ENT doctor also concluded the second time I visited him to discuss the sleep results, that I have an ulcer in my left nostril. Every time I blow my nose, some blood is released, sometimes even a whole eruption, and this has been the case since September 2018.
So I went to Woodland, with a Rob lion. The first time I went with Rob Lion Young, the second time with Magician Rob Lion. I didn’t care what people in the sleeping quarters would think of my big, cuddly companion. But the bed technician didn’t blink. The research would cover nine hours, from nine o’clock in the evening to six o’clock in the morning. My subtle protest that six o’clock in the morning really wasn’t a good time to stop, given my almost standard being awake from 4 to 6AM, of course didn’t change a thing. After all, the sleep technician had been hired for these hours. He would instruct me, entangle me in and with cables and electrodes and then keep a close eye on the infrared video camera and the computer screen data throughout the night. Americans take responsibility as we know very seriously. The first night of sleep research I surpassed myself in being awake. I slept for only one hour of the designated nine hours.
Thereupon I was called weeks later if I wanted to give it another try, because the sleep research scientists couldn’t bake data pies from only one hour of sleep data. Fully covered by the cheapest, read: $0, insurance available here, MediCal, for low income people like me, I returned to Woodland. This time I could actually sleep for three hours and forty-two minutes of the designated nine hours. Right: again not exactly well.
The patient was studied for a total of 483.5 minutes but only slept 221.5 minutes for a reduced sleep efficiency of 45.8%. Sleep onset was slightly long at 33.5 minutes and REM onset was also long at 4 hours and 22 minutes;
Incidentally, the scientists apparently did not get the data of my first research night, because the last sentence in their report heralded:
The increased sleep latency and lighter than normal sleep could be a first night effect of the sleep lab as well;
But as told, this wasn’t my first night there, but my second, and so I did have previous sleep research exercise. In consequence, my abnormal sleep pattern wasn’t just caused only by the sleep lab conditions.
I didn’t even sleep half of the time and although I dozed off fairly quickly in a light sleep (after about half an hour) it took no less than four hours and twenty-two minutes before I finally entered the deep REM sleep phase. When I look up what is considered a normal REM sleep pattern, I find that by rule of thumb the average time to enter the REM phase is after about an hour and a quarter to an hour and a half, so certainly not after four hours and twenty-two minutes.
But this time around, they worked with what they got. Their conclusions were not very surprising, and equally so from an “astral” perspective. Nothing surfaced. Maybe something could have been dug up from the eight-hundred pages report, but I didn’t request it. The main conclusion was:
Abnormal nocturnal polysomnogram because of significant reduced sleep efficiency with significant lighter than normal sleep with insignificant sleep disordered breathing;
My sleep chart was considered abnormal because of a disturbed sleep pattern, but no Sleep Apnea was discovered. I was not surprised by the latter either, as both sleep research nights took place in the winter, with clean (smoke-free) and cooler nights again. If they had tested me in the Summer time, and much more preferably: in my own home, I expect that actual rudiments of sleep apnea would have surfaced.
I experienced something unusual in the second research night. At the end of the research hours and with eyes closed, I began to see light flashes in my left forehead.
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In short, the sleep research results surfaced nothing quite shocking, but only yielded some nice selfies with the dear Rob lions.
Under the umbrella of “Let’s get physical” I can add the following: for me there is one striking case in Davis, something that has been going on for years now. I believe that if there is such a thing as a past life – or should I better talk about timeless life from now on? – I “found” the man who killed me as a girl of about sixteen years old in a (past) life by cutting my throat. I described this in my first book Through The Window.3 If you think that I find the man abhorrent, no, I think he’s nice and extremely fascinating. The moment I am writing this, I still haven’t talked to him, we only exchanged some highly charged greetings. But the ongoing event still evokes powerful primordial reactions through my subconscious mind. And it is abundantly clear that the man in question is also experiencing very powerful primordial waves. Due to the ongoing nature of this, I unfortunately cannot go into detail. I wanted to report it anyway.
On the crook side
There was a very surprising turn of events in 2018 concerning the aforementioned, but also in previous Lion Hearts blogs!, said Robbert van den Broeke.4 In August 2018, the same month that smoke tormented my respiratory system, Robbert van den Broeke was caught red-handed on camera while trying to cheat gullible fans, and not by just any man, but by award-winning American and in California residing, filmmaker William Gazecki who for a long time, had been Van den Broeke’s family friend. Gazecki also was in friendly contact with Robbert’s great promoter of repute, Nancy Talbott. Gazecki had big America plans for Robbert. Oprah and Netflix were already under the hotkeys of his phone.
Rob Nanninga’s and my big “anti-friend” Robbert van den Broeke was seriously embarrassed when it turned out that Robbert van den Broeke wasn’t familiar with the Live Capture function of the Apple iPhone, or had not checked it out, because for the world to see on Live images on the iPhone of Gazecki, were Robbert’s fraud attempts. With the photographic harvest of that night with Robbert, William had returned to his hotel in West-Brabant to experience a Hollywood-Horror-Movie- shock effect after he immediately and very interested started examining his phone images. You can read all about this in my blogs, because William Gazecki gave me the exclusive publication rights, here and here. After this ordeal, he had found and contacted me and I had already addressed him directly in tweets of mine, in response to the news that he was going to make a movie or series about Robbert.
This absolutely was the cinematic shock of William Gazecki’s career, and he immediately decided to abandon his film plans with Robbert. He explained his rushed departure to the confidant of Robbert, sister Madelon, packed, left Hoeven and flew back to Los Angeles. This to me, and certainly to Rob Nanninga and other skeptics, was really something, after having analyzed Van den Broeke’s paranormal shenanigans for so many years. Part of that group of people, and I in particular, had since 2012 also received shocking hate and even death-threatening emails from Robbert van den Broeke and co.
However, Robbert also had a good (?) day, because on October 2, 2018, the hefty police file against Robbert van den Broeke and Stan Pluijmen was closed due to lack of evidence.5 That evidence, however, was there for the taking; the Dutch police never showed interest in my comprehensive and well-founded blogs and the hate videos that Robbert sent to me. It seems to me that those hate videos (after all: motion pictures) are a solid piece of evidence. I was so outraged by the not well-founded acquittal that I (definitively?) locked my Genverbrander10 account, it’s now only accessible to confirmed followers. For me, with this acquittal it became really quite obvious that I had to try to put an end to this matter. Despite all my efforts I hadn’t made enough progress and in the spirit of “Do not Feed The Trolls” I refused to continue giving Robbert and Stan public attention.
I had informed Stan Pluijmen and Robbert in April 2018 via the then still publicly available Genverbrander10 Twitter account, that I would no longer open, listen to or watch their audio and video clips, and I adhered strictly to my own commitment. Only a few videos from Robbert about one subject I watched despite of this, but that was it. I haven’t opened media files from Stan anymore, although I still read his emails. Stan: are you ever going to believe me?: I have nó idea what you have recorded since April 2018. The message somehow got through to Robbert, because I didn’t receive that much from him anymore, and Stan was a little less impressed: since April 2018 I received 168 – and counting – emails from Stan and from Robbert “only” 42.
The flip side of the coin is something nice, because William Gazecki and I are now friends and we mail every now and then. I never denied that Robbert van den Broeke has exceptional alternative “medium” qualities, namely in the area of connecting people. After all, through his shenanigans he put me in touch with Rob Nanninga and Skepsis, and I’m eternally grateful for that. Robbert van den Broeke and especially Stan however seek recognition from me in “paranormal” territory, but in my opinion there never was one solid piece of evidence of their exceptional “paranormal” capabilities. It’s not because I don’t want to be convinced, but their extremely far-reaching claims about spirit photography and more of all that demand more than half measures. So, Robbert and Stan, if you want to get me on your good side, start with a clean slate by confessing all (!) previous scams.
Stan emailed me on January 22, 2019 that he was going to change his first name and nobody better than himself can explain the reason why – and this probably is a “to be continued”:
Steppin’ Out With My Baby
Part II Rob’s and Constantia’s Steppin’ Outs
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For this part, I first selected the most striking data from my diary entries, helped by the most exclamation marks, literal or not, as: “The best ever!”, And “Saw Rob!”. I discovered a very clear trend, more about that later.
As I said in the beginning of this blog, 2018 was a year with even more love outbursts than 2017 between Rob and me. Especially May 2018 was the absolute highlight. In June 2018, however, I panicked several times because there seemed to be a bit more distance between Rob and me, and I didn’t know why. But in July 2018 Rob was back again. I got the impression that Rob had been busy with something besides me. And this turned out to be correct, because in early July 2018 I received a mail from friend Jan Willem Nienhuys that Rob’s mother had passed away on June 27, 2018. That’s could very well have been the reason Rob was more absent than usual in June! At least: that is the connection I make. In May 2018, Rob seemed to be in a euphoric state of mind. Could it be he knew that his mother would soon pass over, and that the realization made him very happy? In July 2018, he was back from not really gone. Admitted, nothing of this can have any scientific value right now, but for me there is something to it, because I didn’t know about Rob’s mother health condition in May and June 2018 (not at all!). It was only after her death that I heard something from Jan Willem Nienhuys.
Raptures
In 2018 there were 220 erotic and sexual outbursts with Rob, especially via the lions, most of which yielded at least one orgasm per night, but regularly even several. I immediately come to the most important trend of this year and that trend was Rob himself. The year starts right away with the remark in my diary that “Robs orgasm spilled on me” and also brought me to a climax, and this turns out to be the leitmotif of the year, because I see the same kind of remarks all over my diaries from 2018 (and 2019). Multi-orgasms are literally the order of the day, and Rob regularly seems to come to a peak in even a few seconds, when I start holding a lion, with which he then “makes physical contact”.
A bridge to that Another Davis is created via the lions, in which Rob and I are actually together. Fairly universally children and adults have an intimate connection with stuffed animals and maybe it’s the best kept secret of the world that there could be a good reason for this. In my vision, stuffed animals offer a physical, universal handout to the “astral” or multiverse, parallel world. People and animals in “other worlds” jump, as it were, with their essence and love in the stuffed animals, and in this way become part of a cherished family. As a result, and comparable to the loss of a family member of flesh and blood, loss of stuffed animals can cause great drama. In Rob and my case this stuffed animals effect “simply” is extremely extended with an exceptionally strong, erotic and sexual connection.
Because no words can express this extreme lion love, I’ll just give some highlights without going into full detail. Well, I will cite one experience anyway, after this brief summary.
3/27/2018: “Four complete orgasms” 4/20/2018: “Star explosion” 4/28/2018: “Rob quickly climaxed after a few minutes” 5/12/2018: “[> Single-point-) Orgasm that lasted for at least ten minutes, even a fireworks orgasm on top of it, did not even know that this was possible”> so that a new orgasm develops on top of a still very active orgasm, “electric crackling”, “Most perfect morning ever” 5/15/2018: “Love cloud, Rob’s face through the lions”, and also a physical-like effect on the noble part that you would have after climaxing man in woman 5/28/2018: “Series of orgasms on Rob’s side, huge explosion, overwhelming energy from Rob on me” 6/10/2018: “Rob who came very quickly several times” 7/14/2018: “Time and again orgasms, one long orgasm, Rob seemed to come six times or so, multi-orgasms” 8/16/2018: “Rob’s longing, orgasmic outburst that I felt jumping over me”, “Rob flowing like a river in me, new magic”, “Tangible flow”, “Perfect penetrations, one long orgasm but also some clear bursts “,” Robs climaxing like an erotic happiness cloud “ (very striking> 🙂 9/11/2018: “Rob’s instant orgasm immediately after I woke up and Peace Bor in my embrace, already after a few seconds, one big, orgasmic eruption, like an exploding, super-soft sun”, possibly the most horny thing I have ever experienced” 10/21/2018: By only looking at Rob, Lion Young, in the morning, an orgasmic eruption equaling climaxing, but then like a concentrated cloud, very intense, Rob was climaxing, and this jumped on me instantly and completely, and made me experience the same 11/6/2018: “Hours-long orgasmic waves and eruptions as if Rob wanted to pamper me intensely”
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So this is only a very limited selection given the 220 rapture nights in 2018. I already mentioned in previous blog that I think Rob’s erotic energy is jumping on me, causing very fast and easy orgasmic waves, that we are as it were “joined at the hip”. If 2018 personally confirmed one thing to me, this is it. It brings both Rob and me to constant orgasmic outbursts, back and forth, as the perfect yin and yang that work in one another, play and penetrate.
I will cite one sexual experience from my diary:
May 12, 2018: “The most perfect morning ever with Rob and the lions.At the beginning of the night, started sex with Most Male Rob, but physically, I did not keep up, simply had to go to sleep. In the morning I had a bath, back in the room. Most Male again in my arms, immediately started flowing, his desire and now mine, one thing led to another, full sex, paw, tail, Peace Bor joining much later.
Had YouTube on, first Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros… and Israel kamakawiwoʻole … autoplay, perfect. Curtain right open, view of green leaves, window completely open, but nobody could see it (no window at the neighbors there). Extreme excitement and the most spectacular end ever, with help finger, but Rob’s energy, orgasm, this certainly continued for more than ten minutes (very literally, so no backdown, and then, to make the impossible possible, a new fireworks orgasm developed on top of the one that was still going (did not know that this was possible), electric shivers over my body, like crackling energy lines that are exploding around with flames.
Unbelievable. Tears. Perfect, peaceful morning with so much love, horniness, intimacy, devotion, Rob knows exactly what I think, am, etc.
Can not describe it. Truly the most perfect morning ever, heaven on earth, no doubt, not even about Rob’s existence. Being together, far beyond perfection.
Penetrations, in several places, my genitals totally upside down, what a discharge and recharging.
So dear and sexy the lions, I love them so much, really absolutely extremely. Rob’s mirror, no doubt, this is it. He is here. “With you”. My body and mind overwhelmed, so happy.”
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Summarized, very striking things occurred, like countless hour-long sessions that felt like one long climax, orgasms that developed on existing orgasms, electrically crackling on my back and tangible warm and sweetest happiness and love clouds straight in front of me (Rob), Rob’s love like an almost physically-tangible river flowing in me, many dozens of jumping Rob orgasms on me, as it really became clear that this is not a one-way street, but just as well originating from Rob’s side and Rob’s desire, even causing strange, almost-physical-like aftereffects common after real physical sex (I do not want to go into detail about this now). Rob’s intense and exciting kiss ability also continued to stand out in this year, through the lions. A very fruitful factor in this erotic back and forth is the fact that we are both extremely sensitive to all kinds of fantasies about us together, and possible “third parties” (people who play along), and then work it out in a kind of role play. The source is almost inexhaustible and I like to keep the content of most to myself, as they only concern Rob and me.
OBEs and related experiences
Also in this year Rob did not show himself as often as I would have liked, but it is what it is, and there will be a reason for it. Fortunately, there still were moments that Rob was fully present and I could witness his loving and humorous character again. Here, too, I’ll make a selection of a couple of memorable moments.
In previous blogs I already mentioned the portrait I made of Rob and its meaning to me remains unaltered. On February 5, 2018, I made the comment in my diary that it seemed like a “liquid jet” from Rob’s eyes in the portrait ran into my eyes, “heavy telepathy”. Rob, the portrait and I are really connected. I look at it constantly and see ever-changing Rob facial expressions: approving (of the external and / or inner me), very sweet, worried, moved, with tears, expectant, urgent, shy, supportive, like a partner who kisses me lovingly as I go cycling and when I return, mildly ironic, investigative, and so on. Rob’s face is like a constantly lively, but always loving sea.
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Regularly Rob’s hypnotic, penetrating gaze travels my way. I love this most heavy gaze of his best of all his lion expressions, because only one person in the whole universe is entitled to it, and that is Rob. He has this way of staring that’s almost earthly tangible, investigative, and, at the same time, loving and involved, grounding me, as well as giving me wings. Yes, that’s possible, both at the same time. Perhaps that is the formula for magic: magic is the place where two worlds meet. I would like to remind the reader once again that I never met Rob physically. When there’s a Rob connaisseur out there willing to contradict me on this so special Rob “gaze”, please do, but I doubt such a person will come forward.
This intense contact with Rob through the portrait temporarily also had an adverse effect on Rob. He seemed to communicate telepathically to me on June 29, 2018 (that was two days after his reunification with his mother, if all this exists) that he felt “locked up” in that portrait, because I actually looked at it all the time, and often kissed it, too. As if he himself was being held in that position, when in fact he really wanted to be with me physically, and in more than one location than on that wall, and I of course with him. Subsequently I made the contact through the portrait less intense and that indeed took some pressure off. I still keep it in mind by keeping more physical distance, and I get the impression that Rob is now less affected. But also for me, communicating through the portrait is sometimes burdened with thoughts, since it is unnatural. After all, you want to kiss a human being of flesh and blood, or an equivalent of it, and not a two-dimensional portrait.
On March 21, 2018 Rob seemed to communicate that he could now “let go of the suffering”. This related to his general suffering of past earthly life and did not relate to me.
On April 3, 2018, I saw a lion riding a bike in a very funny dream, just like the lion picture I used in a previous blog. I was also driving (car, bicycle?) and there were quite a few people in traffic and the lion came towards me, very carefully steering, just as if he belonged there like all others, on the bike like that.
On April 5, 2018, the astral event around Rob as Quasimodo occurred, which I already mentioned as a preview in my previous blog.
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On May 14, 2018, when I felt extremely restless, Rob laid himself over me. All sorts of concerns plagued me: the unwillingness and fear of becoming much older as already explained in the previous blog, also because I do not want to miss Rob for so long and I am worried that our contact will become less strong due to the ravages of time, and money worries. But as Rob lay over me like this, stability descended on me and I became calmer. The Rob Robust lion to my left, looking so very dedicated, also helped me to relax.
Rob Lion and Constantia, photo with app fx
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In the months of May and June 2018 there clearly was increased and changed Rob activity. His love outbursts for me occurred with much more penetrating power than before, as if he knew how to get through even more, but in June he seemed to drift away a little, to return to full strength later on. On June 19, 2018, I briefly saw Rob in the hallway here in Davis. The summer months were full of physical ordeal due to the extreme heat and (the effects of the) California wildfires. Obviously, therefore, the night contact with Rob was charged (quote diary 10 August 2018: “Very quiet in terms of Rob, because the nights are terrible”), because I just really did not feel comfortable in my skin. On August 10, 2018, something very striking happened that I never experienced before. Plagued by wildfire effects, Rob seemed to want to ease my physical discomfort.
Quote from diary: August 10, 2018: “Last night something very special, suddenly on my back an electric “cracking ” started, pleasant, as electric impulses, but without shock effect, kind of flickering, as if to help me relax. Rob! I take it! And it was not a short-term effect, it lasted at least ten minutes and in fact until I fell asleep, really very strange, purely physical, nothing astral, really tangible, maybe even my thin shirt moved with it. Paying attention to the phenomenon was not influencing it! Lions still full of love and support, but I am in very difficult times, with the crushing heat and bad air quality.
Sometimes I am literally suffocating at night and I wake up with a snort, a stifling gag. I miss Rob terribly, always see us in front of me. How he is here at the door and I open, etc.”
On 11 October 2018, a long astral journey occurred that began with developments around Pepijn van Erp, but later on it was about other matters and about Rob. After this Pepijn start, I ended up on a sort of magical beach and had unique (astral) sea experiences. After this I returned and the astral journey still did not seem to want to end, which excited me very much, and I grabbed the astral chance card with both hands.
Staged by Rob, hilarious magic, “Doctor Rob”
Literally from my diary, 11 October 2018 (and some added sentences for clarification): […] Now back in that room. So I was up, looking for clue. Saw it immediately. To the right in the room was an open door, and as to invite me over, it was flapping gently. Light shone from it. I walked into the hall. Large space, rather a kind of factory hall, again that darkish atmosphere (but not negative).
Certainly sufficient lighting. Very large space, I walked towards the people present.
A few man and a woman. One of them asked me: “Can I help you?” “Yes”, I said, “I am looking for someone.” I looked around to see if I saw Rob, but no such luck, so I just tried my luck and asked, “Do you know maybe … uh … Rob Nanninga?”
To my disappointment they showed no recognition or said something like: “Yes, he is …”
But a big guy took me in tow. (This must have been Rob, haha!). He was “the Doctor” here.
He was tall, of a strong build, blond hair (but he didn’t have Rob’s face), and overall didn’t seem very healthy. He put his arm around me and said, “I’ve got a message for you, it’s very important!” I didn’t recall exactly what followed, but he said something like: “Now twenty years … something has become complete (?) [and] … You look like forty-five (Haha).” He said it as if he said that I now looked like twenty years, as if it were a huge compliment. Haha! It was only five years younger than I really was!
He coaxed me back to our starting location. I held him somewhat peculiarly with four fingers instead of five. He then moaned dramatically: “Don’t hold me like that, I can’t stand it, not with four fingers.” He collapsed and dramatically fell to the floor, the unhealthy doctor who fainted, or was it something more serious? A few others rushed to him to help him …
His story was supposedly very symbolic, his message to me something about being together for twenty years in a couple of years from now. I don’t remember a lot of details. But it ended with his remark of me looking forty-five on my fiftieth.
Haha, hilarious this. This was so obviously staged that you could not ignore it.
I didn’t confront Rob when that big man put his arm around me to give me the very important message. Last night I said to Rob in my mind: “I miss the out-of-body experiences, the astral journeys. I understand that you don’t feel prompted to join me in my astral journeys, because you think they’re not real, but if we experience them together, they just might be!”
<< Clarification added for the purpose of this blog: I didn’t know if this was Rob’s current point of view, I just tried to reach out to him. Rob and I exchange few conversations. Also in this regard I think we’re on the same page. I am no channeling Char or Derek Ogilvie (not to mention that certain somebody I ran into a lot, you might know by now who), and I suspect strongly Rob wants to keep me from making the “channel” mistake as well.
In this regard I like the Dutch proverb: “Zij die slapen onder dezelfde deken, hebben dezelfde streken”, meaning: “Those who sleep under the same blank(et)s, will pull the same pranks” (own attempt at equal sounding translation). Both Rob and I didn’t share our bed with our earthly partner. Rob had a LAT relationship in which he saw his girlfriend for an average of two hours a day (he shared this information with me in an email), and I was married and I did share the house with my ex, but we too never slept in one bed together. We only did so when we were on vacation and shared the hotel room or the tent. The common denominator of the “the same pranks” didn’t apply for both Rob and me during our earthly relationship with our then-partners, but, as I see it now, does apply to Rob and me, as we do “sleep under the same blanket”.
To the subject of our very Another-Davis-physical but almost wordless relationship: telepathically received words easily become mixed with one’s own words and thoughts. Rob’s tangible love, support, care, eroticism, et cetera, especially perceived through the lions, is of a completely different order of magnitude. In line with this, I consider dreams, OBEs and related experiences, hence spontaneous experiences in a different mindset, to be much more reliable than phrases that I would, or would not, have exchanged with Rob in my everyday consciousness, after all: they pass through the meddlesome day-consciousness word-traps of my own brain unhindered and unaltered. I just don’t feel confident enough about telepathically communicated sentences, and it can’t be any other that Rob, as the former editor-in-chief of Dutch Skepsis, knows all about this communication trap, and avoids it all the same, just like I do.
Anyway, this time I apparently convinced Rob with regards to my astral need and my wish to see him in the astral realm. > end of the inserted notes. >>
Et voilà. At last. Well, that was overdue. Spiritually, I was falling apart.
This is a good astral joke indeed!
Dear Rob! At 4.00 AM I turned the light on, after having it switched off at about 2.00 AM. So it’s now past four o’clock!
The emerging light from the factory hall was as magical as a seasoned Disney Hollywood filmmaker would have portrayed. Also a joke from Rob. The astral part occurred approximately between 2.00 AM and 3.30 AM.
There were also images (astral yet again?) of Rob as I know him! I saw him a few times in those dreams. I could just walk towards him in a low-ceiling room, through hall (s) and adjoining rooms.
In one event, I actually saw him, but he remained kind of vague. We both were naked and, elated, he lifted me up in the air.
In another scene I saw his rooms. They were likable, bright, neat, yet business-like. There were small, semi-circular hallways where you could sit.
Somewhere, and this surprised me, he also displayed an impressive dragon collection which prompted me to say, “Hey, I have similar dragon statues.” (that’s the case in reality). But he had a lot more.
[Piece omitted]> end diary passage
The year progressed steadily and the summer dip didn’t diminish. On October 14, 2018 I noted in my diary: “Even while cycling I don’t feel happy, this is new.”
On December 30, 2018 I had a dream with astral parts. As was often the case in 2018, it was about wandering around on campus. This too is a common denominator for Rob and me as an area that attracts both of us, and also in that AnotherDavis. I had left the classroom where I had just taught, but the campus floor plan was so complex that I couldn’t find my way back. I carried nothing but a rabbit in my hand that was giving a major effort to escape (!) and so demanded my attention. Eventually I called Rob to ask him for help. I did seem to get some help already. I think someone borrowed me their cellphone.
I had sat down in a hall somewhere, one of the many halls and corridors, keeping the rabbit as steady as I could. Rob answered the phone! The fact alone cheered me up to no end. Rob was still there! However, Pepijn started talking (?!), he also was on the, a third, line. Pepijn now talked briefly about a certain type of person and what you would call such a person: a seafarer, a pirate? I patiently allowed the takeover, but after a short while interrupted anyway with “Hey, Pepijn, you’re stealing my call, I was the one calling Rob, not you! Hello Rob?” Silence. It was as if I heard Rob holding his breath, out of surprise, or was it because he knew that the moment had come: Rob and me, talking to each another? Pepijn also was silent now. I awakened (very annoyed, because I wished that we had the chance to talk). Earlier that in the morning I had begged Rob to appear to me in my dreams or OBEs and akin.
Slowly, I am heading towards the end of this blog, but not without mentioning a few more events of the year 2019.
On January 20, 2019 I again had another one of the “the best, ever!” with Rob, this time so intense that afterwards I actually wondered if I had died and gone to heaven, and by this I mean: really had died. I was totally out of it. It started from an overall body weakness, that, though to me a frequent sensation, will always remain a disturbing phenomenon. My body seemed out of reach, like in a kind of semi-coma. I couldn’t even control my fingers to bend. There had been orgasmic outbursts as soon as I started holding the tail of Rob Robust lion immediately after I went to bed. I had an OBE that night too. And in the morning, just by the sight of the “Crook Love” Rob Lion, I had become totally aroused, my body flying off again. I felt so much love that a kind of orgasm softly erupted. The little lion with his crooked smile was sitting there so sweet and innocent, and those paws of him are most endearing.
A total, overall ecstasy spread, Rob, Robust lion laying in my arm – while writing down the current experiences too – I totally surrendered, there were subtle penetrations, and then, Rob coming, it’s simply impossible to explain accurately what happened.
The nightly image of us together at the bonfire and the intimacies that evolve from it, is strongest of all my mental images of Rob and me. The flow of multiverse and parallel-world images of Rob and me is inexhaustible, and at its center resides this campfire. Pure and sheer magic erupts in the pleasures of intimacy when I sit on Rob’s lap. When Rob gets aroused, it just as intense jumps over to me, and we are like a perfect, endless yin and yang, penetrating each other, simultaneously pleasing each other. My impression of the existence of “astral”, parallel, multiverse worlds is that together they enable a continuum. One world is attached to the other, and together the worlds form an infinite “DNA” strand, through which people also travel, creating an eternal link of interlocking possibilities.
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I conclude with something that I experience as typical Rob, as I got to know him in such a unusual and fantastic way. It is these kind of images in out-of-body experiences, dreams and mental images that always give me the idea that life does go on, in parallel worlds, in the multiverse, that Rob and I really can be together, despite the course this earthly life has taken. A few things preceded it, but in the night of February 7, 2019 I had a dream about my bike that I had left unlocked:
Literally from my diary, February 7, 2019: Outside, in the bike rack, was my omafiets. It was cold outside, snow? Someone had tied my bicycle to the rack with a few thick ropes (flax and cotton), because I had no lock on it and had not brought one also. I asked, “Hey, who locked my bike!” This was already the second time this happened, because I had forgotten to lock the bike before. – Awake and association Rob! In my bed was a soft, warm woolen sweater near the wall, that I had lovingly wrapped behind a plush lion’s back, but now a sleeve of it was lovingly draped over my neck. As I had not done this (at least not consciously), I got the impression that Rob was behind this. The bike, improvised “locked”. Haha, those few thick ropes tied through the wheel and then to the rack. Typically Rob, the sweetest!
In real-life Rob had emailed me a couple of times about the leak in his house in Groningen and how he had tried to repair the leaking tube with Power Tape:
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Footnotes
[1] What I mean by this, I explain in detail in my previous blog, but in short: “orgasmic outbursts”; rapture and then loaded with successively: love, warmth, support and especially erotic ecstasy.
[2] See Lion Hearts V: “There is some other strange thing going on. It seems as though Rob somehow is settling in my character too. Always a fervent anti-smoking person, since Rob passing, I have the most peculiar tendency to think about picking up a cigarette and starting to smoke. I never even had a cigarette in my mouth and the idea alone appalled me, so this is something noteworthy. Rob was a smoker. Up til now, I have successfully resisted this new impulse and I hope I can keep it up, because I suspect I won’t be helping either Rob or me. Maybe he’s still a little addicted , on “the other side”. Rob’s not being a vegetarian or vegan is kind of reflecting on my mind too. Being vegan for life, I do notice some of Rob’s former eating habits coming through too in my mind, it made me ease up a little on human carnivores and dairy eaters.”
[3] Sten Oomen, Door het Raam, edition Uitgeverij Schors 2004, page 166-167 (Dutch only).
[4] The Robbert van den Broeke / Stan story always runs sideways past the Rob and my story. See Lion Hearts Part III and Part V, but certainly also my separate Parameter WordPress site that is entirely dedicated to this (choice menu Dutch / English)
Lion Hearts 