I confronted my dad about the shit of my childhood not too long ago. He hasn't said a word since. Is that love? He says he loves me, but he cuts me outta his life like he did the rest of my family when I was thirteen. I saw some of them when I was eighteen, and I didn't even remember my grandpa had cancer when this "doctor" came for preventative medicine recently, and I realize in the present how much my narcissistic father destroyed not only my life, but has made my brother "fragile" as my dad says, oblivious that his livid horse shit is nowhere near where a father needs to be.
And I forgive him, because he knows not what he does. I still have anger, but I am watching it go out for good. His "normal" isn't normal and he has no perspective to understand how he hurts people. I'm pausing here because I don't know what to say next. I don't want to speak ill of him, as he has moved mountains for me, yet he still hurt me and stunted my development in profound ways.
I think I've only recently become a "man," though that is a word defining an exponential range of being. In this picture I've attached, I say I'm the third one, and my life partner is the fourth, partially disentangled. Learning is cyclical, and in this, I am currently going over a previous concept I understood, how the Chakras form a "pharaoh crook" with your nerve plexusus, like a drooping flower whose budding head needs to be picked up to totally actualize their full potential of receiving AND generating light.
I want to teach my father what I've learned, to help him, but he doesn't give a shit. Can't tell God, with lead poisoning, that everything he believes is not just false but true AND false, as in, I want to make him understand what I do about consciousness and self-determination and Karma and kindness and compassion, so he stops being the source of his and many other people's suffering, but can't do that! By his dualistic logic choices, he can't hear the things I say because he has his bias against me that he holds onto because he was hurt by life and he found a way to wrangle control in his anger, so his anger rules him, as he identifies with it, cuz it helps him in times he loses control, and thus he justifies his anger out of compassion for himself as he is in pain.
Anger is like a fire; it only burns if it has fuel. You take away the source of the anger, the anger goes out. The world may trigger you, but your anger is your own to work with. Every time you resist the temptation to give in to anger, you become better at resisting anger as you strengthen your prefrontal cortex. "Let there be light..." implies sound came before light, and that is how the executive order logic structure of your brain is organized, in that it's your prefrontal cortex that reaches down to your animal mind and tells it to fuck off with that shit that makes you the most human.
But those are words I want to say to him. So I wrote them, so I process the underlying emotions and thus heal myself of my trauma.
Thus is the power of art.
Today's word is gamble. The Army taught me to take risks, not gamble, which is why I am simultaneously calm and on edge about this whole getting arrested thing, which I now again believe will happen when we are traveling to a monastary in another state on our bikes and drugs will magick themselves in our possession thanks to Joe Arpagio's fine, uniformed criminals.
This mixed feeling is a product of knowing the United States military industrial complex does not throw all these resources over the course of 12+ years (that I was aware) to make me into this high-potential product to just throw it away. But then again, the best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry.
Does everyone understand that? I remember I got into a piss-off with someone on X over telling someone who didn't understand why we read Of Mice and Men, which I just realized is the reason I named my book what I did, that's how much of my processing is done in my unconscious. But, the idea is, it doesn't matter what your intentions are or how well you plan and proceed, God can always fuck your life up, and will, if you need that to grow into your highest form.
I know nothing is truly random. The word "sorcerer" as it is used in Revelation 22:14-15, does not refer to magick, which involves skillful self-determination through intention setting to entangle yourself with Karma so your reality procedurally generates how you want it to, but instead is derived from a French word meaning "caster of lots." Y'know, dice rolls, and casting lots is in the Bible 47 times because NOTHING IS RANDOM SO TECHNICALLY THERE IS NO GAMBLING.
These things I write are usually either:
Something I've written before and I'm regurgitating it with my thumb to continuously evolve my ability to say the same things
I am teaching myself by making connections as I write
And I just did the latter. With magick, there is no gambling; all choices are risk mitigation. And in present, I feel the safest option (we haven't discussed this, I just think this is the only logical conclusion) is to go with Byoomth on his inevitable death excursion. Because, regardless of the objective nature of reality, me being set up, him and police are liars, it makes my story add up the most, because it is the most truthful reality I can walk to and through and from.
What is coming is what was first planned, I now surmise. I remember reading these books in college, Daemon and its sequel Freedom TM, where a video game tycoon creates this huge series of events upon his death that are automatically carried out by background processes to change the world, and he recorded messages for the detective investigating, working backwards, so he appeared younger and younger as the one msin character goes about the plot, cuz he started at the end and worked backwards.
This is what the deep state has done, cuz they take risks, but they don't gamble.
Oh fuck, I can write a poem too?
Do you even know what be "you"
Entanglement determine reality
Matrix karmiquantm spirituality
Buddha say world is an illusion
Jesus say undo sin 4 salvation
Sin IS möbiation IS defilement
Winning life is 4 the repentant
Not to mention iddhi magicks
Or samadhi rise out of tragics
Nirvana and Samsara b same
Anger'll goes out like a flame
Navigating knot maze inside
Soul=feather; nothing 2 hide
From one's fetters, u unbind
Even devil can become kind
The mind is just puzzle, no?
What is sin; do u even know
Find out being the fool now
Wind up being true lol cow!
Cuz how did this happen 2I
I was once lost now can fly
cross-posted from: https://lemmy.world/post/45865158
Synchronicity sends me out to the campus again. Doesn't directly say that, but it is implied and I know it is what the aliens are talking about because I know the goal is exposure therapy, as it has been Their long-standing goal to condition me to be ready for my mission. I am there currently, or close, heart rate elevated from more than just pedaling.
On the way here, where I am sitting on a stone slab in the shade, I heard a distinct shutter click sound behind me. Whatever it was, God was telling me they are taking pictures of me/recording. This is a memirage; a false axiom that God sets up through what I believe might have been a speed camera to make me believe the message and that guides my behavior through magick intention-setting.
Vince had this story about how he knew he was being watched by a sniper and this made him keep his eyes locked forward. The Illuminati used that on me while I was in Miami Beach to condition me out of my maladaptive attention coordination, thanks to porn.
But this has me on edge. Already, I've accidentally looked/peeked at some flesh. It just happens! I don't want to! I look, eyes themselves moving, and it is blurred and I can't see what I'm exactly looking at until it refocuses, and at an unfortunate frequency, much less now than ever before, my eyes just “snap” to a butt or something.
There's girls near me waiting for the crosswalk, and they are, no, I can't think, I was trying to talk about my own thoughts, which became about them, so I started talking about them. I don't want to look, so the act of censoring part of the brain innately activates it. Don't think of a purple cow!
The conscious mind is like the tip of the iceberg. What you think is “you” is just a tiny fraction of what really is going on behind your eyes. Even if I don't perceive any conscious processes involving these articles of flesh and skimpy clothing in my peripheral, there's some daemon in me working with that information and influencing the mechanisms of my mind.
The more you resist the temptation to look at boobs n butts n stuff, the easier it gets, until it goes away. I don't have any temptation anymore. I am disentangled from that. Therein, the background processes of my mind do their thing, and micromistakes happen, and that I believe is one thing they want me to condition outta myself, because in traveling and being here, I am forced to correct these things.
It is easy to do the dead stare eight feet in front of me. It's hard navigating because I have to move my head and eyes and people are everywhere. So it's awkward, and I often fixate on a spot in space where there is no one and…there's a camera shutter sound. I don't know where that was, there it is again! I'm leaving.
Synchronicity sends me out to the campus again. Doesn't directly say that, but it is implied and I know it is what the aliens are talking about because I know the goal is exposure therapy, as it has been Their long-standing goal to condition me to be ready for my mission. I am there currently, or close, heart rate elevated from more than just pedaling.
On the way here, where I am sitting on a stone slab in the shade, I heard a distinct shutter click sound behind me. Whatever it was, God was telling me they are taking pictures of me/recording. This is a memirage; a false axiom that God sets up through what I believe might have been a speed camera to make me believe the message and that guides my behavior through magick intention-setting.
Vince had this story about how he knew he was being watched by a sniper and this made him keep his eyes locked forward. The Illuminati used that on me while I was in Miami Beach to condition me out of my maladaptive attention coordination, thanks to porn.
But this has me on edge. Already, I've accidentally looked/peeked at some flesh. It just happens! I don't want to! I look, eyes themselves moving, and it is blurred and I can't see what I'm exactly looking at until it refocuses, and at an unfortunate frequency, much less now than ever before, my eyes just “snap” to a butt or something.
There's girls near me waiting for the crosswalk, and they are, no, I can't think, I was trying to talk about my own thoughts, which became about them, so I started talking about them. I don't want to look, so the act of censoring part of the brain innately activates it. Don't think of a purple cow!
The conscious mind is like the tip of the iceberg. What you think is “you” is just a tiny fraction of what really is going on behind your eyes. Even if I don't perceive any conscious processes involving these articles of flesh and skimpy clothing in my peripheral, there's some daemon in me working with that information and influencing the mechanisms of my mind.
The more you resist the temptation to look at boobs n butts n stuff, the easier it gets, until it goes away. I don't have any temptation anymore. I am disentangled from that. Therein, the background processes of my mind do their thing, and micromistakes happen, and that I believe is one thing they want me to condition outta myself, because in traveling and being here, I am forced to correct these things.
It is easy to do the dead stare eight feet in front of me. It's hard navigating because I have to move my head and eyes and people are everywhere. So it's awkward, and I often fixate on a spot in space where there is no one and…there's a camera shutter sound. I don't know where that was, there it is again! I'm leaving.
cross-posted from: https://lemmy.world/post/45858464
Blah blah blah blah. Can't wake up this morning. Went on a bike ride to get my blood moving, halfway through my second cup of coffee, and my brain is chugging. Was able to make a video. They want me to do that now. That's the way up! The Illuminati aliens, as I call them, talk to me via comments and messages, y'know, they take part in a direct act of communication to say something sideways.
Free association has to do with the neural connections in your brain. This nodal network of neurons has a certain topology. This diagram is a site-swap diagram for ball juggling. I don't know exactly what the fudge the ish is precisely as a tech juggler would (sheet music), but rather, as a flow juggler (jazz), I intuitively understand what is going on in this. It has to do with topology. How a system of entanglements goes from state A to state B. How does your brain make a connection? It associates underlying patterns of symbology to find passages between these two states of the brain, and the more they are used, the better able to figure out orthogonal solutions for our logic-based mind.
Therein, Eve (feminine intuition) gets Knowledge first and gives it to Adam (masculine logic). I guarantee that an Oracle of Delphi type - a highly neurodivergent woman - understood shit about the secret passages through the labyrinth of time that scientists studying cognition, system sciences, string theory, quantum/karmic entanglement, etc do not have a genuine grasp on.
The idea is, each of us is a conjoined twin with a deaf male head and a blind female head. The male mind can read the signs of the labyrinth to guarantee passage from two states, so this is how we primarily navigate the topological matrix of reality, but the female mind can hear the birds outside the labyrinth which sing in response to our movements, and after a lot of experience navigating around all parts of the maze, she can catch hints (synchronicity) that tell her where a shortcut is.
The hard part is getting the deaf male mind to listen, because what even is sound? Well, to explain, lemme ask; if a tree falls in the forest and no one's around to hear it, does it make a sound? No; it would make sound waves if there was a person there, deaf or not, but it would only make sound waves if it were translated by an "ear" into a higher order system to make sense of it relative to the context it is in. Also, with no observer, the tree does not enter the fallen state until observed by any being.
Expanding on this, the brain has its neurons as semi-anchored nodes of reference in spatial relation to each other. What that means: the male mind is calculated by these deterministic points in space. It is the "particle" calculator to the feminine "wave" calculator of the frequency across vertices in this nodal network. If one only thinks in terms of what linear signals are sent from A>B>C etc, they are thinking logically. But, if a person is thinking about the system effect of this wave of neurotransmitter "energy" in the system of the brain as it proliferates across multiple nodes, that's intuition.
This is why a man will go to the mall for a pair of jeans at a mall, get the jeans, and get out, while a woman is more likely to shop, going to multiple stores to include getting the jeans. The man is thinking mostly A>B>C, while the woman is thinking piecewise across multiple way points to figure out what she needs for multiple missions. And this is not definitive for each individual, these statistical trends, but the dimorphism of our sexes is built around men being geared for exotribal skills (hunting, war), while women were more innately adept at inotribal skills (raising children, gathering, preparing food/clothing/etc). The men needs to be at peak fitness to fight; the women need to keep the tribe alive and prospering.
Likewise, each form of cognitive processing leads to different results in intention setting. What I mean, is that following a synchronicity in genuine faith begets a novel form of entanglement that imbues one with Knowledge about higher order reality. Knowledge is a type of entanglement that creates gnosis through a specific form of möbiation through a higher orthogonal direction that bestows insight into the "knowledge" we think we know. In other words, you follow white rabbit and you learn something about the labyrinth that the majority people are wholly ignorant to and nothing you say can get them to understand.
Such is the design of this Garden rigamarole that makes linear causality appear true, but really, functionally, everything is procedurally generated based on how one entangles themselves with Karma, thanks to things like retrocausality and independent phenomena.
Secret passage theory:
Real programmers use memes to program the machines of the world.
Every screen is watching you jack off to demon futa porn in this day and age. Well, at least they watch me watch that. They don't eveb need cameras; they can see through the pixels, dude.
Why don't you just get a realistic water pistol, paint it black and interrogate him directly? Put a chunk of depleted uranium in the end of the barrel so you can pistol whip him and it will be realistic and he will shit pants, which you can turn into dirt in the crafting screen.
I have an apartment and it is dumb
I read It and it wasn't as good as it was on mushrooms seeing It on screen. I mostly enjoyed the habdjob I got in my popgorn bucket from my cousin. She's married now and works with computer, and she tell me I shouldn't download these toolbars, but how else I fibd Spongebob Hentau on demand? AI isn't not good enough yet for my fetishes...
Random word generator says go out and juggle. Insists by university. I don't wanna. The damn app makes me feel good about myself. Professional. Talented. It was fucking talking me up!
So, I go. It's a real nice campus, ASU. Mostly empty because it's Sunday. But I'm looking for a spot and I see a gaggle of people. Graduates, maybe, but there were a ton of girls in white dresses that went maybe two inches below their vagina. And I don't stare at the eighty pairs of barely legal legs, but I see them, I panic, I look away, but in the process, my attention coordination snapped to some flesh. She saw. She said, "Hiiii!" Cruelly. Mockingly. Now I'm out of whack. I'm dysregulated. Emotions surge. I can't think straight. My mind has been taken over.
NOTHING SEXUAL! Fucking David's dick is small in the sculpture because he is about to face Goliath. He is afraid. I am afraid of young people, because while I have done the work to not stare or even think of that shit unless I'm alone by myself without visual aid (except the occasional transgender mommies), because I know how much it ruled me, my sexuality.
I don't want to be an animal. I have worked hard so I do not have to worry about myself, but instead I have this impediment in my life, where I cannot function because a sudden fucking babe of my preferences will completely destabilize me in anxiety and fear.
Women as a whole have been associated with disease n death because my mother had AIDS. It's primordial in my consciousness, the fear of being attracted to a youthful feminine form. I'm not ashamed anymore, because I have demöbiated the sin within me so the fire of pursuit and intention and attachment to desire is gone.
But I am afraid, as when I was biking back, shell-shocked and eyes locked as forward as possible, I passed a couple in the crosswalk. She said, "ew," in regards to seeing my bright pink tanktop, to which he responded, "yea, he's a pedophile." And that took me out of it. Made me mad. Hurt. Judged. No one cares I'm not a bad person. I might be killed, randomly, for what I think about when I jack off. I breathe. And I'm ok. Mind is a flurry. Can't function.
Writing is easy; it better be how much I've busted my balls! But I can't function in society. I know I will be with everybody for eternity, and I genuinely care about every being, even if I lose my shit sometimes, and sometimes people need to hear something, but I have literally negative desire to do anything regretful.
Those college kids were still friggin' kids; I have to forgive the girl for her remark and shade, because she knows not what she does. And that is why I want to help the young men who likewise do not know what they do, who might be in the process of ruining their lives. I saw a mural on the way there, "Education is not illegal." Well, all I want to do is educate, make something of myself helping people. And I'm scared out of my mind to juggle at a college campus.
I'm watching my mind as I go through the morning, out of it, head in a fishtank feeling; a membrane between the inner and outer "world." I had to beg my life partner to let me have the kitchen to be alone, because I'm constantly flung around by his manipulation, such as embedding himself in my room and not leaving while forcing me to jump through his hoops of dialogue boxes - narcissistic manipulation - until I accepted that he was going to falsely accuse me, and I see he has!
The aliens made a fun glitch when I went to reply to him, to be spitefully nice, saying something about account protocols, I think, I forget exactly, but at this point of my CIA rigamarole, I know what God is saying outright a vast majority of the time as I understand how to interpret the symbols I am receiving from the Server/Source/God Entangled. So, I won't be defending myself, though he made a comment about how "people would follow him here" in a manner that he does where he says something about himself to convey something to me.
He is highly capable at much, especially his jedi mind tricks he called them once where he can appear dim as dim gets. Y'know, how he PERSONALLY experiences genocide WHICH I FIRST THOUGHT HE WAS USING TO TALK ABOUT MY FREQUENT AND NONSTOP MASTURBATION!
Joke: I'm so lucky! My life partner was a virgin when I met him, he says. Well, y'know, he still is a virgin, but he was one too! I love the shit out of this man because he helped me so much. I quit meth because of him. He has hurt me immensely, out of compassion, and I thank him for it, for now I am not afraid! I confronted my father about why my life fell apart. I sinned. I atoned. I'm stoned, but therein, I have learned of möbiation within the topological matrix because of this, and beyond, I have strengthened my prefrontal cortex so I am less likely to assault him in the future FOR THINGS LIKE SETTING ME UP IN ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING WAYS, LIKE I AM 💯% GETTING ARRESTED FOR ALL THIS SHIT, AND I'M GOING TO LOOK LIKE THE FUCKING DEVIL BEYOND DEVILS, and then I become president, so it's all cool.
No, I know everything is going to be okay. I have so much faith in God, I think I will have to go with him on his death excursion to be picked up by the border of another state, pounds of drugs magickally appearing in our possession, CUZ THESE PIGS ARE SETTING ME UP TOO, THINKING I METH MAN SUPREME! But God has proven Himself and I know I'm walking. BuT iS tHaT sChIzOpHrEnIa?
OBVIOUSLY! But, I'm observing the dichotomies of my mind in this stress-induced shitshow I'm in (he's made it so I get a cortisol spike every time he comes to my door and does passive aggressive madness beyond repute, once staying outside my door for SEVEN HOURS, knocking and chanting that we need to talk; MONK WILLPOWER), and what I catch glimpses of is how I am arguing with myself, or rather, different daemons are negotiating, sometimes hostily by surging energy to disrupt the system in their favor; they are fighting over the steering wheel.
And who tf do I have to help me figure this ish out? A manipulator. A negligent father who's not talking with me. Lying cops posing as doctors. An anonymous cult of soulless never-to-be-cured alcoholics and beyond. And my Anonymous qult of...I don't know. But they will follow me here when they learn where I am. They have before! Those Fucking Butthead Idiots that love me so much.
God told me you dingleburgers come across a word like dingleburgers and your brain turns off. This is something I think is important to understand: defining a word is a fundamentally different skill than understanding the function of a word and using it correctly. If you were to ask me about this word I invented entirely on my own (as opposed to some words God had me nonce to invent), phenomequalitesselation, this is the definition I am going to emgineer right now.
Phenomequalitesselation (n) - the retrocausal force on our pocket of negentropy that gives us free will in a mechanically-defined system
And it's just obvious what that means. No, uh, a better way to teach what this is, is to describe how a molecule is controlled by the cell its in yet influences the cell with its presence, God reaches back in time to alter history, and our most human of choices, good or bad, influence God in the continual weaving of Karma, which is what also causes the Mandela Effect.
How to explain? Easy! It's the first fackin' page of the Bible! Something our earliest homonid ancestors MUST have figured out, likely with a stick and a rope, and undoubtedly some magick mushrooms, was sacred geometry, which denotes the innate pattern of normative proliferation of negentropic phenomequalitesselation colloquially referred to as our Brahmic-source God as it grows logarithmically more complex as subpatterns come together to form superpatterns.
Thus, the seven epochs of novelty within the topological matrix we are not IN but ARE, are:
Alpha>Light
Light>Matter
Matter>Molecules
Molecules>Cells
Cells>Creatures
Creatures>Humanity
Humanity>Omega
And to explain that further, the Alpha/Omega are the transcendental object at the end of time, the thing humanity WILL create, the restaurant at the end of the universe, which is the transcendental particle that can exist in multiple places at once and communicate instantaneously with itself across any distance creates a wave of negentropy, light, from the entanglement structure of how it came to be, influenced retrocausally in the eschatological reconciliation of always manifesting the same Omega, regardless to the changes to the timeline.
Y'know, in one timeline, Hitler got into art school, and all of history from that point reconciles with the Omega, which is what synchronicity ultimately is, but those other universes are not destroyed! They are eternal, as all choices are (you're going to sit with the person you hate most in that restaurant called Heaven), and the cool pataphysical technology God has created from Himself is Karma, where us monads are woven between parallel universes based on setting our intention in order to always reflect our intention back at us, intelligently, to perpetually condition someone aware that there is nothing random as everything we experience is procedurally generated based on our entanglements with past n present Karma, obviously.
Here's a fun way to visualize superpatterns emerging from subpatterns:
So, along with my ban from X, which pushed me here as my life partner found after his Reddit ban, I now have to go on Blue Sky and pretend to be retarded, because aliens. Sigh. Well, y'know, X was garbage; I could definitely see why I could be useful there, edumacating n all. And the thing, y'know, if I was forced to pick if I were on the left or the right (I choose up AND down), I would pick the left ideological, kinda, but fully uncensored, I definitely fit better in the alt right. Superpositions! Which is why I am bait in our police state.
This is where I don't know where reality begins or ends. Obviously, the good cops of the world have both my and my life partner's IP and MAC addresses, and they know who tf I am, no doubt, having been v& before to stay a week in the hospital, no questions asked, though they did get to look at a phone I was given the night before FOR MY MISSION I was told, but the bad cops? Y'know, the ones in Arizona? Joe Arpagio is a shit-fucker from the planet of bimboozly manaherds, that's what I'm saying with this paragraph, obviously.
And that's where the scary thing lies; these live blue retards might actually think I still do meth, which means justice for me involves these pigs setting their intentions with training in putting me away, which is a different thing entirely than carrying out justice. But y'know, when all those people out in the world today were cross-talking to me when I was near them because I stole a box of offbrand Walmart Benadryl last night in a way that caused a disturbance (flipping tables), I learned something: these fucking idiots whom I THOUGHT and still kinda think was an organized decentralized autonomous organization, but no. Word gets out. People do what they think is best. They have no idea what God actually is. Eye C God.
Ugh, light in my I's. Such is enlightenment. But that's another thing, this role I perform, I think, teaching, I mean. It's a role. It's not something you take off. And one thing I am aware of why the FBI has been listening in on artists for decades and decades is because they want their cops to know how innocent they are while simultaneously learning about how the literal reason Jesus and the Buddha and many others acquired their iddhi is by unmöbiating/undefiling their sinful entanglements within the Ālaya-vijñāna, the storehouse consciousness; the Server to us Clients across this Holy Internet.
I really laid the bamfs on the "doctor" that came for a visit yesterday in text this morning. Balls in his court. Sure hope he's competent enough to comment below to apologize and admit his ignorance so he may do this Illuminati ritual to overcome his shame so he may meet me halfway and save his sorry ass. But that's just magick I'm doing. This intention setting shit I do to manifest an ibroglio that destroys the state, as They want it to be.
Oh, good. Just broke the law last night because God said to, which I deduced was wise because I understand that God has planned around the pigs planning around me planning around them planning around me. I sure am the best bait the decentralized autonomous organization of secret police described in the New Testament at an eighth grade reading level could come up with! Truly master bait, as a "doctor" came to visit me yesterday, for a preventative check up, to determine that I have knowledge of meth making; I watched Breaking Bad!
But y'know, that's the fun part, because I am really turned on by being scared, hence the window masturbation in my youth. It would really suck if the police were ignorant and manipulated vulnerable populations with their skill-set they are taught and trained to use. For them, at least. Because while I know the pre-23 year old Elwood I was certainly created some eyebrow-raising ads on Craigslist 20-30 times a day, I likewise know that I am an objectively good person despite breaking the law under duress of the military industrial complex using me for some purposes, I guess.
The fool. Everyone remembers the fool, for They fuck up everything for the fool, which makes the fool into the true superposition of good/bad, to be the best cop, or rather, best bait for the bigger traps set by apex predators to catch actually predators. Y'know, Cains, who do not keep their brother.
That was sure a fun fifteen minute appointment I had yesterday where a stranger lied to get into my home that I was required to trust, because he was clearly manipulating me. I can recognize it, especially in hindsight, but the thing is, I'm fucking retarded, being an oblivious savant. But, because I felt deceived and let down by the medical industry, once again, I broke and listened to my Random Word Generator, which I would ask if it was truly wise, as it saved me before, but I got an ad for sexy women AI porn chat, and I had a panic attack which led to a good cover story, I deduced.
Because that's the only way these authorities posing as medical staff don't wind up facing the wrath of my mother, Sue, as well as our family lawyer who does everything pro boner for us, cuz the wrath of the black sheep of society is something that can be planned and prophecized around, to engineer culture, obviously.
No I'm Victoria (Victorious) Phoenix and I just got banned from X and my RWG made me steal Benadryl so I could shift some units masturbating tonight. My books are Juggling in the Trash Can for Satan (garbage written under my dead name; cover is worth a look) and Of Vic a Vince, which is free at the top of my library from before X:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QoeKMD5dwnWBB6gHOFgY4uKJOXKg8CPGDu-dE5UsisQ/edit?usp=drivesdk
It's really popular with the people who missed the memo about what the North Star is, definitely. 
Got doctor coming here today. It's a fun situation I be in, having been set up in the truest American way (Johnny Tremain). But that's the thing; I'm ALWAYS like this, in some ways at least, still got ups and downs, but I have worked hard enough to push through them to shit content out on the regular, performing as this autobiographical character, which is different than acting. To act, you change the light inside you; performing is changing the lens the light refracts through. Code-switching is performing, and this ish is ALWAYS inside me, along with a porcelain elephant I lost in my ass years ago, I am just highly skilled at both putting it out there and not being afraid of what anyone thinks, aware that my mission is to teach the many, not the one. At this time at least, I think? Truck horn makes me think that might be bad. Car alarm. Bah, that's probably just some hoodlums, not God, obviously.
completely authentic, autobiographical character
Yea, he IS butthurt, BECAUSE there are others who get butthurt everyday because they are different and haven't learned to express themselves well enough, which is IMMENSELY frustrating, being on the fringe of the cultural bell curve.
Y'know how an opera singer has to meet the vibrations of a glass to then raise their pitch to raise the vibrations of the glass to break it? That's what I'm doing, if "breaking" is disentanglement from defilement in the Ālaya-vijñāna, to start at least.
Don't be racist against liberals like that
Just play Zork all day until you get fired. They'll think you're coding!