Here I am, swallowed again by my own doing. As the day wakes so do I quake and crumble to tumble below the straights I've known. Adrift at sea, on a long lost frequency, it is light I wish to be. Capsized by callous selfishness, I find myself consumed by false prophets seeking profit in the mirror, and so I steer all of us who are together in this to a tomb more fitting for fools who fell freely of our will, wanting whatever never comes.

The world is so unforgiving and yet I am so fortunate. What hells must others know? I know this one that is mine and I have escapes its depths, so why do the deepest crevices within me still rule my consciousness? An ad plays, as does that part of me I grew to fight to escape the tiger in the grass. It's always running. I'm always running. It's too hot to do what I love. I must run. I must juggle. It's going to be 120 degrees next month. It's honestly not the worst, but it's hellish.

Burns on the pavement. Tried giving donuts to a man today. He didn't want them. What am I to do when I cannot pay my karmic debt. I am denied my ability to quell the daemons in my mind and heart and soul. I left the donuts at a bus stop. That's the best I could do today. When I went out for a drink at seven in the morning. Lying to get outta the house. I abstained last night. He was love last night. Now he is silent criticism. Is that true? He changes at times. I'm sure I do too, but I can't heal when love is semi-conditional.

My mom really fucked me up, dying like that. Well, she turned out better because she knew she was dying. She would have been like my father if she was healthy. She was at times when I was the worst a child can be. Y'know, I looked for and found my birthday presents. But she saved me when I didn't know I did wrong. My father was a tyrant. Is he, my life partner? Is that why I like him; he completes this complex within me? Music says he's not my friend. We are hunters. We are prey. Night and day.

I'm a lucky man. A sad man. I know the depth depth doth go. I know relativity, and I am grateful. I don't know what else I can give. I'm taking my meds, and they take my sexuality. I mean, I have a life partner, not a sexual partner. He can't be bothered. He's got bigger fights fry. Well, the fuse will go off as God tells me in kumquat. Fucking ads again. Blue raspberry. Apple. Strawberry. Fuck this shit, give me a shot and shut up while I think how my life partner's computer magickally fixed itself after I paid the shipping charge he says didn't happen last time but I know it did that I have to pay in the long term because these are loans I'm forced to take to pay for what he makes me do.

I don't have enough to give

For I give much to myselfs

Such wealth ward wisdom

Abysmal I be by moments

Monumentous failur' here

Beer- all I can take'th now

How smarts I am in morn

Warn you, I am, of what u

Could be if fail to choose

What life is in ideal ways

Decay clearly as rainy day

Right now I deal with some tough emotions

Peeps wheeling w drops when I got oceans

Write? How; I wrote a million words n more

For God and I still I b forced to b, n implore

That amongst the odd faces in the crowds

Are the greatest gems in the whole ground

...

See, like shit dude, are ppl not looking at what I do with my life? It's obviously all about me. I made that meme you all obviously saw today. Obviously. Like, do you people know that's a joke at my own expense; I'm making fun of my past self. I used to think these ripe plods of diatribe would earn me millions, nay! BILLIONS! Thought juggling for $400/day in Las Vegas was possible, and it is, if you're in the right spot at the right time once or twice a year, but that figure I literally retardified outta thin air and believed that's what I was worth. I know I'm only worth $125/day, TOPS, but that's just because it's hard to juggle in the heat and a day IS an hour.

But wait, hang on, God say do a thing. I goddo swordcerer. No seriously, one of the hottest things that emptied my fucking balls hundreds of times is transgender swordplay. Oh god. Kurt Vonnegut; do me dirty! See? There's depth to this shit! Don't see? Don't worry, this hereq academy is totes gunna get you to graduate the third grade and finally understand what that obscure American literature classic, Hatchet, was really about.

Everybody read this book, right? The porcupine represents Gary Paulsen's desire to get sucked up by a blue beam. He did right that, write? I know he wrote the Transall Saga, which shaped my early middle school, which is why I'm recommending this to the illiterate of the audience because it's a really good one.

This song is synchronous. I swear it's a new song, never heard it before, but I know they hid my favorite band Coriolis from me for fifteen fucking years so it would have an impactful moment on me. They program us, y'know. Since Jesus, at least! That's why I like putting things not meant to go in my ass, in my ass!

https://youtu.be/5lZFWWqXc2Y?is=3VrMxhckYzSA6GF-

Every hero has learned a lesson

Maybe even more, if just for fun

Some hav died for their wisdom

Others gave all n remained dum

It's not intellect that frees t soul

On cross one is empty AND full

Balance of spirit 'n the material

Peer into which is Eye celestial

They see me, do you see them

Those who made a 'you' hem?

Weaving weary, I see as Leary

But at least I know I not scary

All that matters is if I'm better

Than what bound me w fetter

What do I say today? I'm dying, and yet I'm npt smoking. Something has changed. God's still a doodlebopper, but He lets me cop a feel once and a while. I got nothing! I don't have any speak-thingies! I just spit my shit and I have words apparently? This is just what you can do when you've done it all; have nothing and still produce something. I am complete. I am completely apart. I am rock solid, I will sock you in the mouth. I don't need anything and the words come. I can complete in dogshit number nine when you need to be in triforce six just to get an erection. God warns me I'm going to prison. A kumquat tells me to goon. I'm gunna. What choice do I have. "Because I choose to." You got dick over a Benadryl stimfap session. You have robot number bukkake dog and that IS a number, and it aligns with me 26% of the time and this is the best I can hope for. God says call my dad. Retard won't pick up. No one loves me. I'm dogshit. Rapedog millionaire. Burn the flesh. Salt the wounds. I don't like killing cockroaches. They piss me tf off. Like, get tf out dude. Why are you here? There was no food the time he wasn't here. Why were you here? Bullshit. Nature is lying to me. This species couldn't exist. It would be eradicated. God is lying. The bitch. I'll fuck God's ass with my own ass, and I typed all of this without looking at the keyboard 9n my phone. Is that a skill? Yes. I am skilled. Skill pilled. Don't know what the skill is. Rocunding my own ass. More than Christ. Chinese has a booger paste. That's whst God's about.

They don't know it be like it is but it do

I'm so tired of writing

This fire we r lighting

I pull my share n you

Take the red and blu

So simple was world

Into sun I was hurled

Up higher learn knew

And I b used for new

2 learn higher stand

Go beyond the band

No, there's no limits

B as hard Goku hits

Super n hyper sayin

But sure AF n playin

He's lying to me and I'm lying to him. I can't handle this. God just said I'm going to get arrested at midnight. I took Benadryl because I'm being lied to and I don't know how to do what I have to do. He says things I a way that I believe him. I let him go tonight because I felt he was fine. He is. He's lying. Or is he? I know he is. He's too skilled, and I lie just so I won't be bothered trying to cope with what he does. And I still failed him. I was supposed to go with him. Keep him safe. I think he's lying. He did all he did tonight to give me chances to intervene. I didn't know what to do so I defaulted to giving in to my addiction. I know he's setting me up. It's just a matter of how. I know he's safe. He does things too well. Like, he pretended to forget the light, and that sets my mind at unease because I KNOW it's manipulation first and foremost. I detect it. And then I'm on alert. I'm not thinking smart. I have only so much RAM and he gums it up so I revert to passive acceptance. He's in control AND HAS ENFORCED THE NOTION THAT IF I DON'T ACCEPT HIS JUDGMENT I AM TO BE PUNISHED. He's done that too me and now I might have let him die. But I know he's fine. He's lying. He did all that to set me up for failure. They do that. They all do, and I can't stand it. I just have to let them do this to me. The doctors are all manipulating me too! I can't do anything. I'm retarded. I deserve to die. But he doesn't. I know he's going to be fine. But i'm scared. I'm more scared of him manipulating me so I'm arrested tonight. They're setting me up. This is more of a priority that my life partner maybe being lost. That's another thing! I think he's lying about being on the shot. He wasn't and then he was when I confessed to him. He's using that lie to manipulate me now, I realize. He still has to take meds. I tried to get him his meds. It was Juneteenth and they were closed in the afternoon. The pharmacy said it would take 1-2 days anyways. I'm not good enough to help him, but I don't have impetus to try because I know I'm being manipulated. I think they're killing me. I'm not good enough. Always not good enough. They're lying. He's lying. I'm lying. But I love him. I need to be better. I don't know what to do. I'm DREAMING OF Benadryl in this period I've stopped. Wake up with a craving. I don't want to do this. I cave when I feel I have no support. I have people manipulating me. They can't just have a conversation with me. Am I that unlovable? I couldn't even go with him. God tells me to go. I don't think that's wise, either. I need to be better. I have no idea how. No one will talk to me. Joe is lying to me when there's no reason to. How am I supposed to relax with all of that? I'm drinking to numb myself so I don't think as hard as I do. I unravel the smallest thread of what he's doing and it spirals into me confronting him and that's what led to the assaults, me confronting him and I lose my shit when he plays games with me. He plays games with me. Fucks with my head. Am i gunna be arrested again? Kumquat says no. Must be just to scare me, all these perfectly timed things people do. She lies to, his mom. I don't know what to think, because are they lying for me or against me? I don't know. I'm very put on edge by what happens with these people. I'm sorry I'm not good enough. Why is Byoomth like this? He has intentionally set these circumstances up for me to fail. This is training, I understand, cuz obviously I'm CIA. He did it this way so I'd have an epiphany about reality. I need to help him more, as he does so much for me. I can't even help myself. And I realize this is how he is getting me to get myself help. It's all a lie. And what do I do with this? There's acceptance and there's resistance, but then there's both and neither, and I feel like a doormat either way. I don't know if he intends that. I deserve whatever comes, that's for certain. I'm not good enough for anything but torture.

My life partner has returned from the hospital. I've already smoked and drank, but I haven't masturbated OR master baited yet, so I'm golden in God's eyes. It was great having Byoomth back. Things were so happy, rejoiceful and every moment was filled with gratitude and the little eye dimples he gets when he's really happy.

Then I ask about his pills, what his regiment is and where his pharmacy is. He dodges. I wait. I ask again. He dodges. I wait until we're doing nothing. I ask, and he says he doesn't agree with the treatment plan. My heart sinks. He tried rice again! Do you understand? He's taken insane vows, one of which, or at least the implication of, is not to eat rice because the Buddha said in the future we won't need to eat rice. He was willing to try it again! The meds did something!

But I ask later, after a drink and feeling the revulsion of the nicotine withdrawal from stress of “nothing has changed,” telling him how I've transgressed and he changes his tune to be supportive, positive…of me? He tells me he's on the shot now, but he has to take the pill for several days until…? I dunno, but it's really hard to think with my neighbor mirroring my noises in a clear and apparent way. But my life partner, who is not in communication with my above stairs neighbor, changed what he said to leave me feeling hopeless in how any of this is going to improve.

Just had a sip of coffee and thought of actually-actually going-going to police. Nah, that ain't real but I don't know what to do. Something has to give. In a parallel fashion, I got fucked over again getting my lab work. Panicked. Lied and had a cigarette by the door. Someone walked by. Gunna get a six thousand dollar ticket for that, well, the fine will be $75, the court expenses account for the rest. Hafta do so much for no reason other than I'm retarded. Gotta get my labs done or I could die. It's ok, I'm gunna be stabbed in the line for lunch in prison when the FBI does their stupid nana nana boo boo bullshit with me, regardless what I do now.

That's the thing though. My life partner is really in-tune with the higher picture shit. That's why I trust him; you can't fake that. Therein, he's faking mental illness, for higher purpose reasons, and I know that he's Jesus/the Buddha in this regard. The perfect being is the being that can be any being as needed. He can be perfect and wrong in many ways at the same time. And he toys with me compassionately, because up here, in the realm of sorcery, we're protected by the highest of beings.

How this came to be written just now. About a week or two ago, I wrote how synchronicity proliferate from intention-setting, saying that I could write about purple cars and then see twenty purple cars. Well, I wrote that and saw four fucking purple cars. Then, yesterday, while getting us dinner, I saw “Odin QED” in a floor tile that doesn't show up in the picture I took, but then I saw two fucking purple cars at the same time - a harken back synchronicity - and one had the license plate “Uresaela,” or something of that nature that spawned the thought of a Disney villain.

Then my life partner said something about how there are infinite gods n goddesses, but we were protected by the highest of beings, and he said it with authority, and I reviewed with my brain's other hemisphere to conclude it was true, and I knew that the tricks and traps of those watching me are ultimately defeated by the light orchestrating the coming shitshow.

I just tried getting his medication sent to a closer location. Ten miles on bike in this heat is a little much. Too late as I found they were closing early for Juneteenth. Felt they were testing if I follow through with my duties. Always being tested. Always under scrutiny. That's what every moment of every day is like for me as the default. It's what my baseline of consciousness has been made to be by the traumas n trials of my life.

I swear everyone is watching me. There's something going on, how people are coordinating. Must not be good enough. Always a failure. That's why they're watching, because I'm schizoaffective. I'm too dangerous. Gotta keep your eyes on me. Keep your eye on the ball. Keep your eye on the ball. I find no update to your behavior, so imma hit you and say again, “keep your eye on the ball!”

And this is all the madness I've put together to let y'all know that there are dumbass mother fuckers all around us who cannot identify a cop from a genuinely crazy person. To those who are dying every minute of every day, pray be you are strong enough to not go shitty shitty boo-boo in your pants. They plan for that in the interview room. Good goo go free free! Obviously, and I ain't talking bout me. I see you c-ing me, that you be free as count Dedede!

I was having a conversation with myself as I do frequently without nicotine, as the onset of nicotine silences my mind and I can get a-writing at maximum capacity in what counts as a “sprint” for me. This is something my life partner taught me how he programs, in set chunks called “sprints” to keep all the necessary information in his short term memory while working on something all entangled with itself.

With my writing style, it's hard to graph the path I will specifically take, as I meander and state things out of chronological order. Likewise, I never know where I'm going. Like, I wanted to lead into a talk about why Stephen King writes mostly horror, which would lead to talking about Carl Jung and the self/shadow consciousness, which would then lead to me talking about what has allowed me to change so much; expressing myself led to a processing of trauma-induced unconscious emotions which when censored by my brain resulted in them festering into deeper problems of being.

But now we've wandered in the intro and have greater opportunities than before, because now I have a unique mixture of things to talk about, most notably being how I have learned to let everything out of me freely, and the combinatory process of connecting this idea to that one leads to a novel form of presenting all facets of information to a reader. Most of the time, having developed my empathy skill by broadcasting to a nebulous “they,” I am primarily focused in my efforts on creating a long history of educational material for a random stranger who may or may not understand me, but in creating a whole library of these types of posts, which I've done for twelve years, I am constantly creating a landing space for a sudden intake of attention, and I know how to generate hundreds of thousands of views, if not millions at this point.

Hard to practice or experiment now to test the best way to do things while trying to stay small in order to better serve those people who do get caught in my orbit; if I shoot up to half a million views on a main library, that's it, I've got at least fifteen minutes of fame and the aftermath. Is it sustainable? Will the FBI pick me up again? Am I a cop? I have no idea. I care about education, and in authentically expressing myself, I am showing how that is done and others may take inspiration from this.

My phone's keyboard made a typo there, changing take to tale, and now I feel compelled to talk about how one of the most noticeable impacts on a single person I've had was just a random lad starting college. I replied in a dubious style of presenting information, but offered what general help I could. The Reddit thread took off, hundreds of people replied. Mine was chosen as one of three that impacted him the most. He left a huge comment on a video of a podcast I was on, praising me. It was weird, but I was moved at the same time.

You can impact people by presenting the same information in a special or just novel way. Learn how to speak authentically as yourself, and then those who resonate with your true nature will start reading your words. That's how you develop a following. It's not about being good, or being the best. It's about being real, and if you can do that, it doesn't matter if your writing homework looks like a pizza from all the red marks, you'll have the most moving story or essay or article or what have you.

I am understanding more but also less

They want me to stay 4 the sanity test

Compressed in diferent encapsulation

Depressed by false failed capitulation

From what is fed to me, strings wrong

But right 4 they do give this sure song

I write what said by my skilled master

Yet even as Earth turn, says go faster

They are making machine 4 weapons

What is output is how I'm stepped on

Reciprocal rendition, why I'm Arizona

As that b what grew devilish persona

I am beast of God, ready I am 4 fame

Fangs beared but controlled at same

I did the best I could. He lied to doctors. He skillfully lied to doctors, making me seem like the crazy one. He refuses to take his meds. And it was so good to see and hold and talk to him again. It was a big deal but not at the same time that his ant farm candy-by-the-door was removed. Drives me nuts. I have no recourse. Same as the cult. But he taught me how to write that. Sprints. Little chunks at a time. Everyone knows I'm going to be famous. A woman whispered think of the children. He's manipulating me by not playing my gift, the hand piano. It's a ruse. Kumquat says there's a resemblance. I know synchronicity. I know Karma. I know what I put out is what I get. I should kill myself, so God fucking dies. Only fucker capable of making this reality; me! I AM JESUS CHRUST! I GOT BALLS IN MY AAS. ANGLE ANGLE SIDE SISTER GO WIFE I LONG PASS ON THE POQER OF THE MIDDLE WAT. WATT. energy divided by up down left tight back forth. Expulsion, what can be expulsion. Turgor pressure. OHM. Membrane intercostal force. Depth of understanding. New language order. Manifest gravitide. What i ride. Slide. Everything under lies. Utilize. No one utilize me but slave for boy shit. Rest. I need work to heal. So ia he the missing piece, inverse of what O is, which is an I? Are we the same. Why does he not understand basic intuition but I understand everything he says? Why does his mother insist on superiorizing her opinion above all others? Jesus can't help. He would have his nose tickle and then she would have all the evidence he was a false profit. Can't even see what her own son is. He's ashamed of being like her. I'm not ashamed to be a Manning, I just figured out something better. He's still Byoomth. They didn't replace him. He just forgot who he is, the narcissist. And I love him. Wish he could love his actual self instead of loving...synchronicity said cryptocurrency. His mother is in on it. His father isn't real. I'm the fall guy. They're lying to me. They're lying to me. There's something bigger going on. But what?

Sweet Jesus. I needed that drink. I had to spend the afternoon with my mother-in-law. I had to. I couldn't say no. I would be a complete asshole if I forbid her from barging into my house when she said she was going to, to then clean my apartment in a way that is going to cause her son to have fits because he is as damaged by her as I am by my father. Narcissists, amirite? Well y'know, it's a generational curse and we tend to attract each other. But y'know, I had several ways I would prefer to do this set of tasks. Nope. HAD to do the way she said. Didn't have a choice. I brought up how I made several choices today. No. That's wrong. I made no choices today.

She is the opposite of me; all confidence, no depth of understanding choices. She does not know what is contained in the New Testament. I told her what the Illuminati was. I said it in the same set of sentences I told her I was a woman for a few years. I asked her if she knew, as in, did she have knowledge of how the New Testament describes a decentralized autonomous organization of secret police at an eighth grade reading level. Yup. Got the confirmation I needed.

She's not a liar. She doesn't know what she does. In her eyes, her son failed. He's wrong. He fucked up, doing drugs. Because there is no chance in hell she did anything wrong. She gaslit me in the most bold faced way. I don't think she was even conscious of it. She heard she was wrong. She did everything in her power to defeat me with her will. It is this that her son repeats that has led to my assault of him. Even he is not aware enough to know the limits of how he affects another. She HAD to be right. NEEDED to be right. So much that she lied in front of herself to gaslight me and then forgot what she was saying.

More or less:

T -0:30 - Her “Your house is unlivable”

T 0:00 - Me “You said my house was unlivable”

T 0:01 - Her “I never said that.”

T 0:02 - Me “Yes you did.”

T 0:03 - Her “No, I said it was a pigstye.”

T 0:10 - Me “You said my apartment was a pigstye”

T 0:11 - Her “I never said that.”

Weird. Well, at least I'm glad that the New Testament describes a decentralized autonomous organization of secret police at an eighth grade reading level and thus they heard that. Cuz I understand WHY my life partner is in the hospital right now. I feel like I'm taking crazy pills.

This type of shit fucks me up. My father did shit like this all the time. Just straight up acted perplexed about all the abuse he ever did. And now he ignores me. He can't handle a discrepancy from his perfect reality he concocted for himself. So he cuts off his entire son. She was ready to beat my ass while saying she would never be violent like me, that's how serious she was about shutting me down.

It's not about being right. These IDOLATERS don't care about what's logically right. What's empathically right. It's a power game. An ethos structure. She's not processing what she's reading in the Bible. She's regurgitating what other people tell her is in there, and thus, because I am her opposite, I am not seen as the same level as her, so I am dismissed at an instant (razzle dazzle), and what I FEEL is the exact same as my father: I'm always wrong.

But am I doing that to her? Well shit, I'm contemplating if I'm wrong by default and of my own volition. Nah. I can't equate these…but wait! Is she playing an elaborate game with me? Well, she helped by throwing money and a couple hours on me, sending me careening into drinking and smoking, only a beer and a cigarette, but that may start the whole cycle again. And it's hellish, how people of her variety hurt me by saying they're helping.

She THREATENED - I'm using that word specifically - she threatened with telling my life partner's dad to email how HE should demand the apartment to fix these things for us.

Like…

“I LOVE MY SON SO MUCH BECAUSE I SHIT HIM OUT MY CUNT AND I WOULD TAKE A BULLET FOR HIM, BUT IF YOU DONT CONFORM TO MY BEAR NATURE I WILL MAKE SURE BOTH YOU AND MY SON ARE FORCED TO LIVE OUTSIDE FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIVES”

Literally I can't give more of an accurate argument based on the specific choice of arguments she used to justify why she loves her son and what the objective effect of her actions. I don't know what her favorite memory is with her son. What was his favorite game, the game developer who interned with the CIA while at RIT? Why would you spend so much time cleaning if the primary thing that results of you doing this “favor” is complaining that you have to clean?

I disassociated with her. I couldn't handle it. I didn't “freak out” at the grocery store which I TOLD HER I DIDNT GO TO BUT WAS REPRIMANDED THREE FUCKING TIMES FOR NOT GETTING HER THE DISCOUNT ON THE APPLES SHE FORGOT ANYWAYS BECAUSE MY PHONE NUMBER DIDN'T WORK FOR THE “DISCOUNT” THAT WAS EVEN MORE EXPENSIVE THAN THE OTHER NON-WALMART STORE THAT I DO GO TO AND HAVE BONUSES FOR AND SUGGESTED WE GO TO WITH MY SUGGESTION BEING WAVED AWAY WITH ZERO CONTEMPLATION! Everything I did was wrong. She knew EVERYTHING! There was always a comment when she FORCED HER WILL OVER ME BUT SHES NOT VIOLENT! She just HURTS me.

I understand why my life partner doesn't want anything to do with her, but this is all bullshit. She can't be this incompetent and ignorant. She has to know about the decentralized autonomous organization of secret police and is doing this to prove I got brain problems to the FBI (do it already you dip-ass fuckbois (and girls)), cuz she will be able to lie to a judge OVER my honesty, that much is certain. No limit to what truth will be at a moment. And I'm still reeling.

Like, I don't know what reality is right now. Got this beer. Guy saw me unlock my bike, asks if that [my helmet] would save my life. I was so disassociated that I thought he was saying that would thinking all these thoughts I've put down here for you would save me from the FBI in how they're going to flay me for being a psychopath serial killer cuz I behaved weird on camera in front of children today because I almost had a meltdown, and it's true, and I'm grateful, too. Why is this necessary, God? What have ai done? Reconciliation? Don't do what you're going to. No. Don't. Halp. Help. Fuck that's a shame...

Sore this morning. Found a table and chair set that my life partner might like out by the dumpster. Chances are, he won't want them, but I wanted to do something for him. Got him a hand piano, too, since he doesn't have his guitar anymore as I smashed it while being antagonized. Still, I take responsibility, just as I take responsibility for drinking too much while he has been in the hospital for his involuntary inpatient stay in the psyche ward.

Think I did good with that yesterday. I wrote his mom how I am able to say no to drinking ninety-nine times, but the hundredth time the urge surges forth and I give in is the one I'm judged by. I've decided to be better, though. I haven't given in to the urge to do other stuff, and I feel something akin to a last temptation in that regards. I see the need to rise higher to be better for not just myself but my new family.

Amazing how one can be alchemized like that, knowing the parameters for the human psyche, which is how I know there isn't a tower coming down any time soon. That's a reference to cataclysmic destruction, how synchronicities of my schizoautismo mind have been threatening me. Made me think a major, big media arrest was coming, again - gave me nightmares, even - but that itself was the magick to create the sort of neural connection to resist temptation.

I wouldn't have walked this long way if it wasn't for my faith in God being good. If the FBI is really putting big bucks into watching me, it can't be to catch me, less they be incompetent beyond all belief. While there's an entire set of possibilities where there's going to be a big news story, there's an equal number of possibilities where they are posturing to manipulate me. Since, from my perspective, they seem to be consciously making themselves known and have been skilled at that throughout all this, I have to assume they are competent and using inputs as they have to modify my behavior.

These last couple paragraphs might be nonsense to some people. Gosh, I hope those who don't understand what I'm saying aren't up to anything nefarious. They sure wouldn't know what they're up against. Then again, I can posit in an anarchist community in pretty plain language that all this data we're creating on ourselves is being harvested and amalgamated into a relatively small number of axises of one's content of their character, and it takes someone translating it into specific terminology the community would be familiar with for some of those peeps to even consider what I was saying.

Thus, the wise amongst us can see how eye kan jus tern a dial onn my righting and a certain percentage of the population CANNOT decipher ANY meaning. And so I say that God is listening to everything you say and knows everything your eyes see, regardless how anonymous you think you are. We have predicted the predator and it is known how to wrangle one…or dozens…hundreds? How famous am I gunna be again? Who tf watches Nick Fuentes? Oh, people worth watching.

Jesus sure was able to bring a crowd for his memetic replication. Ain't no way he's a cop, he was crucified by the state for wholly unjust reasons! We can trust him, and listen to him, and learn from him. I'm talking about me. I've been following God directly and knowingly for twelve years now. But Jesus died for my sins, so I don't have to worry about…oh shit, is this cognitive dissonance? Oooh noooo…

Everything I do is wrong- I awaken

The ability to do greatness w/ pen

Everything melting & the devil win

The game God made w/ self's din

Everything on fire, but what burns

I didn't start a fire but world turns

Everything is always ash, I forgot

I did choose my life in which I rot

What Jesus called his Father, the Buddhists refer to as the Ālaya-vijñāna; the storehouse consciousness.

Server, Client, Holy Internet

You are not a featherless biped on the Earth. You are a pocket of consciousness and the Earth is inside you. Everything you experience is self-contained within your neurons, yea? Well, you're experiencing these words, yea? Everything you've ever experienced has been experienced, and thus all you've ever known is inside you, a la Indra's Net, which this meme object is a pedagogical object meant to teach, like a diagram in a textbook?

Then what are you talking to/through in every moment?

Soliphism is proveably false. God can give you Knowledge, and it's usually through a forked tongue.

My neighbors are watching me. Influencing me. They fake doing things to send me messages. Deja vu all the time. There was a man at my doctor's appointment with a dog who was there before. They're keeping tabs on me, but not really. I think it more wise if they are manipulating me so I report on it so I create a counterintelligence effect on those who cannot think for themselves. When they hear their friend is experiencing similar things I report, they dismiss it. Oh, that's the same as that crazy crackhead online, that's what he says. Thus, I say wooby wooby woo, I got a big poo poo in my bum bum, and a significant percentage of the population has shut their brains off. Magick! Basic God damn psychology/sociology when you think about it. But so few people think, which opens a can of worms. Are these people watching me genuinely doing this for this advanced reason, or are they just incompetent and can't help themselves when they mouth off about what they are doing. Are they that cocky? Am I? There's nothing I don't know, except what I don't, and I sure as fuck know what that is. Fucking idiots. I'm talking to myself now. There's no one listening. If there were they couldn't help themselves but let themselves be known, by what statistical trends say. But what about the cops. A cop will sit in his fucking state-rented apartment and watch non-stop, like a calm hound. There's no impetus to pounce. They don't NEED to make snide comments as the average idoltarer does. Is this not honesty? Am I not the most honest mother fucker you met? I squirm when you put me on the spot, but the overall story, I've put it all up, baby. There's nothing I'm hiding. I'm ready to be flayed. Do it. Do it. DO IT!!!

Pic related. I went above and beyond what Klinger did and said. I'm about to be promoted in the Illuminati, from Major to Captain.

Poem: Liars

Eye on cross

I 2 be tossed

He who b me

Must be free