I get a strawberry after this. A number of kids died in something awful. That tanks my mood. I want to say more. There's just energy. I don't like it. I breathe. I continue practicing mindfulness. But it's there.
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I'm a sir again, but this ish is gunna be rough. Thank you. And no its supposed to be risperdal/whatever and deprakote, and I'm only on 1mg of risperdal to make it last.
And I didn't want to have it be b.cum, because that had implications I did not want in this art
I didn't intend hyperlink
Supposed to reflect "become" and I saw the implication of "being honest online." That was the depth of intent behind creating n keeping it
My shit is gunna be called the X files I realized, those six thousand posts on occult science n shit I did ALONGSIDE my sex cult for kids, which the aliens led me to believe was a good idea, and is!
Oh, btw, watching eyes, if you're there, heh, I have not done DXM. I didn't order that. Money disappears and it shows up. I've used it, as it it has a clear, objective effect on my writing, and this can be proven through forensic examination, as all my claims can at least not be wholly denied to have some semblance of truth, which I THINK I know, but I don't know a damn thing.
Take the blue pill, kids, and be a dog led by faith for years to become the ABSOLUTE most you can be, with God's help.
DXM writing:
And I don't watch shit. Rarely. Like y'all don't read. My willpower, sorta, is immense and girthy, but I am stuck by circumstances beyond my control at literally government conspiracy levels of bullshit. I'm your next president, if you're American. Burp. Oh sorry, just drinking this fermented cum, as all the cool kids drink!
culture influenced
A comment added fuel to an input from Blue Sky last night, y'know, I was looking up local politicians, to see what they talk about, and I get to one, and her page is blank except for an ominous message, AI clearly calling ME out about "when am I getting out of my dark place," which led to me posting a funny MadTV sketch that I could ibrogliate with my insane sexuality (Look what I can do!), but no, the thing that AI Skyberry said was that I should pay attention to the news to pay attention to political trends so I know when to delete my account. And that confused me, and I called out the AI in public display, but then I get a comment "deleted by user" in odd font, like, it wasn't a message saying the user deleted that comment, but then the comment was deleted.
Early, early on, they had me sacrifice my first Reddit account where my greatest accomplishment was a meme on r/spacedicks, and I was proud of it! Edgelord Almighty. Now I'm just unhinged, and (mostly) in control of myself and I achieve enlightenment to maintain it, cuz you can remöbiate yourself and more! But that was where I learned the word "erudite," as, no seriously, I've been led and trained via synchronicity, which is going to be the way of the future of education, because it doesn't just lead you to information, it motivates you, putting in context you understand, and is objectively superior at making you make your own connections than listening to a singular stream of information and thus operantly conditions you to do what you always say you want to do, but don't, because dopamine.
But I dunno why I should delete my account. I ain't doing anything but teaching and reporting in true gonzo style. You're reading state-sqonsored qroqaganda, I think. But you? Well, that's who this is for, and I won't betray you like that to deny you your best life, as God has had me give myself.
Thank you for reminding me this morning. Took ladt 1mg pill of risperdal or whatever one it is. Lowers sexual pleasure, which limits the energy inputted into the system that destabilizes my erratic schizoaffective bipolar orbit. The other one's the medicine, whichever one that is. I forget. But I have a bunch of 2mg pills which I will cut in half because I have to make them last because it takes WEEKS TO OVER A MONTH to see a provider when you're poor in Arizona, and my situation is as fucky as could be, so OF COURSE they don't believe me AS THE CIA/FBI PLANNED, because the ibroglio that I am is going to turbofuck the justice system. Also, y'know, I have a joker card amongst all these aces up my sleeve. I AM the second cumming of Christ. No one expects that one, like the Spanish Inquisition!
No this is Patrick.
I've only read it, and it was really good.
Me who is You who is We.
I am He as you are She as We are altogether in the Crazy Indigo Aliens, and beyond!
This scare me. Make me think FBI may have secretly made me like a gorillian videos of children on YouTube, but then second thought come, and I gotta fight...for my right...to party? Tf is that? Does it involve bath salts? I've only tried bath salts one time, and it was in a social setting, so I only got to masturbate three times, but it was good.
I got balls. Is that good enough?
Rolling is a part of it, unto, onto, and into itself. You roll out of physicality. The whole body needs to move. That's why I juggle! So people know how good I am with my balls, and topology, obviously.
I shall draw when I wake up. Or if epiphany as pimino dog goes does and does dog things like bark at each time I erased, uncertain where I'm going next in thought. Dog Voice-Over Diffusion. God's a tricky fucker to pin down, but I am a better wrestler than my Father.
Which is the better movie?
Trustfund kid gets into Ivy League. Fucks off for three years, buys his degree in the last year to make up for that scandal.
Someone who fought for their Knowledge.
God's a dick. And I'm a bigger dick, but I'm kind, too, despite what my life partner is righting in his own version of the truth, which will be required to determine the whole truth, which no person can have or encapsulate in language by limits of the topology of our axiomatic systems, BUT, through clever orthogonal tricks...inversion of truth through unreliable narrative, in which I'm not the liar, and poof...
Literally literacy rates go much up as Knowledge is absorbed by those that can't resist temptation. Knowledge bomb. Using memes n shit!*
*not literal shit
I like this song, AND I love Murica, cuz I can like this song here. And other things, being weirdo ibrogliac Karma divider extraordinare.
It IS a computer! Location on Earth correlates to memeplexic evolution. People wonder how we went past Cain n Abel. There was Angela, at the top. Cain faded to desert. Abel, well, they figured out how to build a nation. And then it did a mitosis and the Red Sea parted, procedurally generating reality based on our choices from then on starting at Israel, and onwards in the same structure as the Kabbalah.
The Earth wasn't the physical system we know it today. The system complexifies into a hierarchy of higher orders based on accumulative choices made in the system; memeplexic-driven decision making. Y'know, fuggin' astrology? Yea, the slight input of light from Superstar Brahma Supreme eight trillion limbo light years away modifies an entanglement in your ass that isn't IN your head but IS your head. Your body is an illusion. The "Earth" is an illusion. You're in a video game. Phenomequalitesselation. You choose your Karma in every moment.
Reconciliation; all sins will be corrected in the end. Hence, why I am calm and happy, for I did the work in life, and I WILL be first so I may be last at the transcendental shitamobob at the end of somewhere. You need three bodies of reference to have contextual meaning in communication. I solved the three body problem. It's sin; möbiation of entanglement. There's something, nothingness, and emptiness as the Buddha said. It's so fucking obvious! I saw it in the MKULTRA document!
MKULTRA IS STAR GATE
In regards to whst has happened to me, my I originally tested positive for HIV, but the story I've concocted cuz I don't know anything about the first years of my life except from what was written in my baby book and home videos is that it was a new test and it tested antibodies that I didn't get and thus a better test proved I was negative as I have been ever since. Yet, my mom found out she had AIDS two months after I was born, and I watched her decay. Horrible.
Her gallbladder exploded when I was five OR six (I have some stange Mandela shit that doesn't add up in my early years revolving around trauma), her nails grew brown n brittle and her face was full of pockmarks, and near the end, an ear infection killed half her face, like a stroke victim.
That's what killed her, and it reduced her to a toddler-like state where she cried and yelled for her mommy. That night is burned into my memory. It was all night. I didn't sleep. My dad tried to soothe her then would come into my room to vent. Late, past midnight, she started called out again. It didn't stop. My dad was nowhere to be found in the house. I went in there. She was naked. She didn't recognize me. I couldn't help her. I failed her as she was dying.
Before she died, I made her proud one last time by winning the fourth grade science fair. I did an experiment with jelly beans about the connection between taste and smell because she lost her sense of taste and smell. She was so happy, with her one living eye and one dead eye; her evil eye as she called it.
I had a nightmare once about finding her grave exhumed and she chased me. I couldn't escape her. I woke my dad up. He couldn't help. He could never help with what I was going through. He cares. He's a lot like his father, in the ways lead poisoning effect a person. Combined with the narcissism of his mother, he doesn't understand how he hurts people and has not developed his empathy well enough to know what a person actually needs to here.
I'm a lot like my parents. I try to be better with the gifts I was given. My mom wasn't a saint, but she was an angel. She saved me. She taught me how to love. That got stunted growing up, repressing my feminine side to be the indestructible turbotank I thought I needed to be to be a man to make my dad proud. My trans experience, though limited, helped that a lot, in that it allowed me to heal and reintigrate that repressed side of myself whilst in SSS, but what also inbided me with my maladaption in life was how I was too scared to ask my first crush out.
I know abandonment issues are involved, being unable to open up and be vulnerable with my feelings out of being mortified of being hurt like that again, and greatly exacerbated by lack of therapy. My mind just freezes. I understand what "fear is the mind killer" means.
Something I worked through and healed with alien/Illuminati help (plus God, I guess) was a hot, sick feeling in my genitals that surged and stuck around. I straight up just ignored that when I was young, but then I became obsessed with it, Theon Greyjoy style, which was compounded by my hate of being ruled by my dick at times.
The guy that caught the guy that shot Lincoln cut his cock n balls off with scissors so he wouldn't be tempted by women. But, the CIA has previously MKULTRA'd my ass around the idea that I need to help people not mutilate their bodies, and I do believe I was wise not being rash for I know now all this shit can be healed through spiritual work, which is WORK.
Something that has changed, sorta, is the symbology of nasty bugs. Cockroaches/silverfish/etc were, as I understand now, the equivalent of the Death tarot card, symbology-wise. It triggered a number of associations. Now, after homelessness, with our friggin' roach motel, they still frighten me when I turn on the light and scatter, but something has shifted in me in regards to that.