This song was great in 1979…& it’s still great, but today though, to those who live in Clownworld, it’s reeeeeeeeqee-cist. Derp. Such a joke, an un-funny joke. As you know, I will NEVER bend the knee to something as pathetically daft as political correctness. Fuck off ya rainbow-haired crab goblins. I love it, & this entire album. This is from The Cure’s first album, entitled “Boys Don’t Cry,” & I’d wager most Gen-Xers, like yours truly, have listened to this album about 1327 times. One of the best bands ever, & still, STILL, touring. They are living legends. Despite Robert Smith getting fat & a bit haggard, they still rock 3-4 hours, yes…3 to 4-hour long shows. Musical dynamos. Obviously, I’m a big fan, & picking out a song was an exercise in its own right. I went with this one, but there’s so many more, I might have to do one…or two…or maybe more. Only so much time in a day. & when I create these, hours go by like long seconds.
The paradox of time…when you’re doing nothing, time crawls, & when you’re having fun dong something you love, it’s as if time fast-forwards. Perception is a fickle thing I suppose. Regardless, enjoy this one Fishheads. I have a list that just keeps growing & growing & growing…a list of songs I want to make videos for. Need time…TIME…hey God, I need more time, what can you do for me? God is so quiet, isn’t He? It’s almost like the sound of nothing from a galactic cosmic void. Funny thing though, when satellites point into those voids, the reception they get sounds like whale static. It’s not “nothing,” & we were created in the image of something, so draw your own conclusions. Okay, okay…as always, I started with a few sentences, & ended up with a short essay. That’s how I roll, & my team knows this. Stay tuned, there’s more to come my friends. So sayeth FisH™🎏
Arguably Gordon Lightfoot’s best song. Goes right to the soul, from a time when music was blooming into unprecedented genres. We’re lucky that he stopped by in our time to create some of the best music ever. Gordon had quite a long run for a famous musician, departing this world at the ripe old age of 89, if I’m not mistaken, & despite countless health issues, he kept playing almost to the end. Legendary. They don’t make them like Gordo anymore. Enjoy the vid Fishheads, as a tribute to the great Gordon Lightfoot. Shoutout, as always, to @plazmapunk …& to my friends up in The Great White North. More to come, stay tuned. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
I’m just going to answer this one because it’s easy for yours truly to answer, & that answer is: When you have no parents, what “traditions” are you supposed to be keeping up with? When you’re born a bastard black sheep, that never fit in, then burned in the fire, what is there that’s so sacred to uphold, much less any sort of traditions? Unfortunately, it wasn’t a virgin birth like sweet baby Jesus supposedly had, no, for I was most likely tricked into this world, then they all left me, in every way possible, be it death, abandonment, a tornado of dysfunctionality, it doesn’t matter, as the same answer applies, which again, is when you have no parents, how are you suppose to uphold said traditions that involve removing you from the equation? Pffft…you don’t, & you struggle through a life on enslavement on a prison planet all alone. We all die alone anyway, right? Fuck it. In the wise words of Forrest Gump, “That’s all I have to say about that.” So sayeth FisH™🎏
Incidentally, as I was just about to publish this, I had yet another vision. It was a time back in the 5th grade or so, & I was alone after school, as always, because despite every other kid in the world at that age having a place to go after school, yours truly didn’t have shit, so I’d clean up this little stupid church I went to school at for a fucking can of coke, then wait for hours until I was picked up. They let you grade your own papers under an “honor code,” & because I had no honor, or concept of honor, I gave myself straight-As all the way through, & never even really did the assignments at all. Yep, I remember one day, one vivid day, when I was by the dumpster, wondering about what I would do when I grew up, not realizing that I’d still be throwing garbage in a dumpster after work over 30 years later. I thought of a kid I knew, in jail now, prison, to be precise. He ended up being nothing, not a God-damned thing but a reject, exiled from society, banished for not following the “rules,” with debilitating mental disorders, & trapped in the body of a giant. Oh to think of the old times, the salad days, all that time between now & then seems like a flash, because unlike most, it didn’t mean a fucking thing, to anyone. Just in, then out, & it’ll be as if we was never here. What difference would it make if we went today, or tomorrow, or a month from now, a year, 10 years, 50 more years? It wouldn’t, & that’s about as humble as one can be, to realize they’re nothing, never were anything, nor ever will be anything, & this entire trip through prison planet Earth was an incredible waste of my time. That stupid little kid at the church dumpster those many years ago…such a stupid little fuck, so naive to the real ways of this wicked world. Way to eat your own tail you wretched serpent. The extent of my pseudo-talent, eating my own tail, in words, in actions, in everything, & someday, hopefully, I’ll eat my own head off too. For all of you, & for none of you at all.
Yet again, AGAIN, I had one of these insanely lucid epic saga dreams. This one was in a house, some kind of distorted house, for lack of a better adjective. I think it was the house that I’ve gone to in many recurring dreams prior, but I am not sure. The familiarity is there, like I knew my way around, but something seemed different. It doesn’t help that the memory of this recent dream is fading away with every moment that goes by. I’ve been to this house many times, & usually I just POOF, & I’m in the house, but sometimes there’s a part where I am aware of some secret entrance through the attic, which I know, makes no sense, but nonetheless, that’s how you get in, through some kind of snaky, behind-the-walls “entrance,” in the attic. Would you like to see my house? I did my best to recreate it through a GIF animation, which turned out surprisingly well. Obviously, there’s no way to say whether or not this is EXACTLY how the house looks, but it’s the best interpretation I can come up with. Check it out:
I exaggerated a bit with the backwards waterfall; I’m not sure there is one, I just thought it gave some life to this castle of mine. It’s so bizarre, & I wish I could truly explain the feeling in words when I have these journeys in my sleeping subconscious. I have an entire other brain when I am there, with memories, & recollections, that I do not have here. How can that be? I’ve been meticulously searching for some answers, & I am yet to come up with anything via the entire internet it seems. I can’t be alone with this, can I? There’s people there that I know, along with places that I know, & I know them as well as know where to go, but these are people & places that have never existed here on 3d Prison Planet Earth, not in my world anyway. Who are they? Where are these places? How can I have memories when I’m there, memories from THERE, not here, & I forgot to mention, I have zero recollection of being here in this waking world at all when I’m there, ZERO. Like I said, it’s like I live from a different brain when I have these dreams, & that’s not hyperbole; it’s real, as real as this rain outside my window, at least to me it is.
I remember flashes of scenes from this latest dream, due to the passing of time, & since I cannot recall what exactly was happening, I’m not going to attempt to illustrate this dream, as far as plot lines go. I remember the halls in the house, these arcing hallways, like a hallway you might see in a Dr. Suess book, a checkerboard marble hall atop a bubble is a good way to think of it, & there’s places where you go through the walls, & even the floor sometimes to get to the room you’re trying to reach. Yes, literally walking through walls, & like a controlled falling between the floors, all second nature, just like walking. I know these rooms, these halls, these ways, I know them all. I know them all because it’s MY house on the hill, oh but how, how is this all possible? There’s a flash, like literally I just had a flash from the dream, in real-time, & I remember there being a girl, wearing nothing but an old man’s blazer, a skinny wretched little creature she was, & she had a massive bush, all tangled like an used bird’s nest after the babies take the leap of faith to the ground below. Her undercarriage smelled too, like old sweat & AIDS maybe, I don’t know, but myself, & some other people were watching this bony girl, this thing, doing something weird. She might have even been trying to climb up the wall backwards, I don’t know, I just remember this writhing, like a demonic dance of sorts perhaps, gah, I can’t remember, but just to note, it’s really rare that I smell anything in dreams that I can remember. I know, I enjoy good smells, & I don’t ever notice them in dreams, as I mentioned, so it sucks it had to be Ms. Fish Taco, but whatever was happening, it was nothing sexual, believe me. It was more like looking through the glass into a padded room with a severely distressed mental patient in it. Besides that odd recollection, I do know there was a really good plot line in this dream, & there was something to do, & myself along with some dream friends were doing something, some task, or a mission, if you will, but what it was, I just can’t recall.
I need to come straight to the computer when these dreams happen, & just start writing it out, pure stream-of-consciousness, recollecting the events as they happened, the people along with their respective features, the places, as well as the features of those, all of it, as much as I can, because these dreams haunt me, all day, every day, they haunt me. Constant random flashes, along with visions of the future, the past, somewhere, nowhere, I don’t know. I am so intrigued by inter-dimensional travel, & absolutely fascinated by this other place, this dreamscape of mine, a place that’s as real as here, when I am there, so which one is the real dream? Is dreaming truly what it’s been defined as here in 3d Earth? Ever feel like you’re missing something, something so obvious, something that you know you know, but just can’t get that worm to pop its little head out of the hole in the dirt to recall it, ever feel like that? Ever feel like there’s something so much greater than this? Oy vey, does it even really matter? This world is the 3d matrix prison planet debt slave Earth, & the other world, for yours truly, is something so much bigger, so much more connective, more organic, more FREE, then this forsaken world has ever been, so why the fuck do I keep waking up back here? It’s so frustrating, & it’s making me yearn for sleep, so I can be here less, & there more, which is probably not healthy. As long as I get to work on-time to earn my slave wages, I can sleep the whole time between daily shifts, because fuck it. I’ll just play it day by day actually, because I need to do my walks, soak up the cosmic energy from the Sun, & just get out, get out & move around. It would be great if I enjoyed waking up for a change, know what I mean? Until next time dear readers, be mindful of traveling to the Interzone, for you might want to stay there, & never come back. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
What a life, what a life this life has lived up to, now at this middle-age, assuming I make it to old age. Unfortunately , the marathon just backed up 25 years or so, I’m starting me alllllllllllll the way back at square one. Of course, if I were actually in my early 20s, it would be great right, starting over?…but regrettably for yours truly, I am not. I don’t have time to start back at the rockiest rock bottom ever, so I suppose I’ll just spend the rest of my miserable days slinging shitty weed to automatonic customers who are so unbelievably ill-informed about what they’re doing, it’s almost a joke on top of a joke. The main joke would be back to doing this nonsense again, after 6 weeks quitting no less, & the other joke being that I can barely tolerate these “patients” now, but I’d love customers like these back in the day, ones that paid whatever I told them the price was, as well as assumed that because I say it’s good, it’s good. Despite this being a legal job, the dispensary is half-ass at best, it’s insanely disorganized, very ghettofied, & the weed sucks. It suh-hucks, & like I said, I don’t even smoke this shit anymore, but good God, one might think there’d be no room in Colorado for weed so low in quality. To my surprise & dismay though, not only is there a local market for it, these fucking people actually think it’s good. Blows the mind. Seriously, this is like some karmic time warp for me to make up for a past I had no control over. Going backwards, the world is backwards, it’s all fucking backwards here. Something is so…off, one could argue. Nonetheless, before I tangent off in the first paragraph, let’s get back to the naive people, all I wanted to say about that is that I suppose the power of suggestion is much stronger than most people realize.
Look at Covaids. Look what the pandemic did to people. It’s STILL showing effects from the mass-psychosis/hypnosis. Maybe it was mass hypno-psychosis. The television PROGRAMMING programmed the public to believe in a faux virus, & that they needed a jab, & what did they all do? Without doing any research for themselves, they panicked, put on 12 masks, rolled up their sleeves, & let eugenists, I mean “doctors,” jab a relatively untested science experiment, sold as a “vaccine,”into their bodies, which as I said from he start, will not do anything, except maybe shed the the sickness by weakening immune systems, & eventually kill people, but other than that. I know something about Covaids that most people don’t, but I’ll have to illustrate that more in a future post, or this one will end up being much longer than the average attention span. Now with the Coviads, just to finish, have you seen all the people collapsing & dying from “random heart attacks?” That’s the Covaids jab, believe it or not, I do not care, because I know what is doing it, & I know what it means to hold your ground, like I’ve done for the last 3 years, despite a whole world against me it seemed. Here to help, & the tv-watchers ostracize me. Like I said, it’s all backwards here in this 3d Clownworld. I swear, if it comes on the television, most people WILL comply, as if the television BROADCAST PROGRAMMING might not be what it seems, even though it’s right there in the words.
Free stream of consciousness, this paragraph is all just me tuning the dial, finding a station, holding the number 3 button on the radio’s face until it blinks, then letting these fingers fly, & what comes out, I never know, until I proofread my posts. Okay, ready?
I do know this, as much as it pains my soul, I do know this though, I hate where my life has gone & will go. I hate the ditch, the ditch in the doldrums, what if the cold concrete of the street comes? Gah, these depressing depths I have now sunk myself down into, with no more sunlight in sight. Where is the sun? I should go walk the walks of Kerouac; he used to live here for God’s sake, why not? Or Neal Cassidy? Either one. Maybe that’ll bring light down here. Nope, it’s too dark, much too dark down here, dark as a pissed-off squid, in more ways than one could guess, but I just know it’s darkness all around me, surrounding me, trying to suffocate me. There’s a good quip, like an impetus quip; I know that there can be a light in the darkness, & never vice-versa. Oh but look, my light in this darkness is barely holding on. Only a flicker, like a lighter in a tornado. If I run out of light bulb juice, the light turns off, so for some reason, despite all of this depravity & degeneracy within this darkness, I keep this silly little flicker flicking. I don’t know why, don’t even care why anymore, & in fact, I don’t feel a God-damned thing as I walk down an endless flight of stairs, these liminal checkerboard marble stairs. Nope, total numbness, no handrail, just one step, another step, one step, another step, through an Escherian maze that goes nowhere but seems to go everywhere.
I am intentionally avoiding the news for a week starting today. I just don’t care anymore; the zeitgeist is a runaway snowball, picking up everything, while being steered by sinister forces atop the power pyramid. Said snowball is carving a path that for them, one that is analogous to a super-highway, but for the rest of us, it’s like we all own a little house…look at all of our millions of little houses, right in the path of that super-highway the globalist elites want. The snowball is Katamarian; it picks up everything, consumes everything it touches, so our little pink houses, are getting gobbled up, while their super-highway is plowing a path for them to have total global dominion when it’s complete. The analogy works in my head, & hopefully, you can picture that one too. it’s clever, however I admit, kind of nebulous, but again, I digress.
From this day forward, until December 31st, 2030, this nascent hell on Earth is going to become the Las Vegas of hell on Earth. It will be absolute sin city, like Pandemonium in Paradise Lost, a city of demons, run by demons, inhabited by demons & their minions, yes, humans totally enslaved, it’s going to be quite malevolent. Maybe the Antichrist will have made his presence known by then. Maybe there WILL be some kind of Divine reckoning. The way it’s going, sadly, is not very promising that it will be the latter. God has seemingly left the building, then left the state, & can you blame Him for doing so? Look around for fuck’s sake…this is some new-age dystopian nightmare. Some famous futurists wrote about things that were like this, but none of them captured its exact essence, but several came close. The reality is more like an amalgamation of Orwell, Huxley, Rand, & although none of them hit it perfectly on the head singularly, as I said, if you combined the main plots of their works, out would be birthed this modern day idiocracy we are all stuck in, like rats on a ship that’s destined to sink. Only when this boat finally ceases to float, the ones piloting it will try to take as many of us to the bottom with it, as in dusks below the crashing waves.
Nope, this cannot go on, but when will it finally hit critical mass, when sociodynamics become fully manifest, which way will it go? Don’t expect those of us in the peasantry down here to come out on top, because we won’t, for reasons I just suggested, but mainly because we will always allow them to divide us. Try to imagine everyone in this world, or even just this country, dropping the qualms they’ve been programmed to believe that keep us divided. Imagine if EVERYONE, despite all the fucked-up shit going on in their lives, just suddenly united to take down this small circle of fiends who are in charge. There’s so many more of us, & we could do it in a day, but the division & the notions of division are so deeply engrained now in the general populous, that there is just no way possible to stop the inevitable.
There’s no way to turn a ship around, when half the people are steering starboard while the other half are steering port. Now stick a propaganda machine between both sides of the steerers, & the hatred festers until it erupts into violence. All the while, while the boat starts sinking & the steerers are fighting, each side at the other’s throats, the captain, the staff, & all the guests in the “upper-class” part of the ship are busy boarding lifeboats. They know they’ll b safe if/when the ship sinks, but us, we’re fucked, because we’re too busy fighting one another to go out onto the main deck to see the iceberg that the ship just smashed into. I know, I know, these analogies are a bit all over the place, but you all get the point, yes? The point is: if you’re not among the so-called “ruling elites,” the clock is ticking…maybe 5 years for some of us, but many will be gone before that. A hot World War 3, another plandemic, except one that actually kills people on contact, a staged “space event,” with Project Blue Beam being the center-point, & most people believing & abiding that it’s real, is that the future? It doesn’t matter what scenario I illustrate here, doesn’t matter at all. Nothing we amongst the low-lifes do really matters, nor did it ever. Much time has been wasted, utterly thrown in the trash, & in my case, left me with a head full of knowledge, on an island unto myself.
Total emptiness…I recall the guy on the street, with no family anymore, no friends, working a taxed dead-end job for rubles & ones, with an overpriced iphone never rings, unless it’s a bill collector or some bullshit 800 number, so why do this, why continue if it’s just misery to even exist, what is there to live for? For him, nothing, & for me, of course there’s my cat Milo, & I live for him; he’s it, all yours truly has, my only best little friend, & for him, yes I continue on. If he wasn’t here though, I’d probably die in a shootout robbing a bank. I’ve always thought it would be fun to pull off, if even just once, but since I’ve never actually done it, I’d most-likely fuck it up somehow. The cops would be silently notified, & just as I exit the bank, I’d hear, “Get down, get down on the fucking ground now!!!” I’d naturally have to draw my gun, because fuck going to prison, & as soon as I did, a volley of shots would sound off, as lead projectiles going 5000mph tear through my chest, piercing my heart & lungs & such, more-or-less killing me instantly. I actually know a guy that all of this happened to more-or-less. He had been successful, in many scores, but on this occasion, things went wrong. Alarms were tripped, people got jumpy, & my friend ended up getting away, but his partner did not, & instead of leaving the scene with all of the cash & a clean getaway, he turned around, & went back to get his bank-robbery buddy. Admirable, right? The cops had the place surrounded already though, & a shootout broke out. My friend went walking right at police, unloading clips like some bonus scene from Reservoir Dogs, bullets whizzing everywhere. His partner was already hit & down, so my friend had decided he would go out in a maelstrom of lead & bang-bangs. Then he got hit, POP, hit again, & again, & again, POP POP POP, & he collapsed to the ground. As the cops walked up, they saw the guns my friend had were on the ground, away from him, & he was dying, but still alive, so they emptied several more rounds into him at relative point-blank, trying to kill him, one shot even hitting him in the balls. Guess what? THEY STILL DID NOT KILL HIM, 9 times shot, & my friend lived, went to the hospital, went through a hellish surgery, just to save his life so that he could do time, & spend the rest of his bank-robbing life in jail. Fucked up story, isn’t it? It’s true though, & I talk to this friend all the time. He’s a savage, not to be fucked with.
He’s a good dude though, with a good soul, not all criminals are bad people, as not all laws or just, & we all know how fucked up the “justice” system in the USSA has become. 2 tiers, one for us, the peasantry, & then one for the so-called “ruling elites.” This 2-tiered justice system has gone so askew, that they don’t even hide the fact that it IS a 2-tiered justice system. Nope, they just blatantly treat those deemed “elite” with proverbial kid gloves, on national television, while you & I get proverbially punched in the face with a weighted boxing glove if we are charged with similar crimes. Oh yes, make no mistake, if one of us amongst the general populous committed insider trading in the open, cheated on our taxes on record, abused people, & even murdered people, we’d be in federal prison. Not these elites though, oh no no no…for them, it’s a picnic, & what’s worse, they come out on television trying to dictate to the regular folks how to act, what to say, who to be, ugh, it’s all just so pathetic, it makes you wanna scream until a glass breaks. TURN OFF YOUR TELEVISIONS. IT’S CALLED “PROGRAMMING” FOR A RESON. This is why I am not going to be turning on the news for a week, maybe more. Don’t know, don’t care, & I’m going to avoid all of my media for a week to detox my head from looking at the news, the breaking news, the fake news, anything “news,” is no more for at least a week for me, possibly more, depending on how my head feels after the week of no-news-isolation.
We don’t want to communicate with anyone/anything, if we want to be 110% honest here. NOTHING, I am done talking to people any more than I have to. Why? That’s easy, because most people are soul-suckers, yet aren’t aware of it, because it’s all occurring subconsciously, & when they go out in public, their programmed NPC selves suck the energy from everyone. Fat people are notorious for doing this. Think about physically, their obesity it itself, so fat they have their own gravitational field, which is not total hyperbole, because just like a gravity field, their chubby orb-like stature, pulls energy toward it, YOUR energy, getting pulled toward the fatty, just like a planet does to an asteroid. Also, it’s mentally, which extends beyond the fatties, as there are many, MANY psychic vampires, so to speak, who exist to do one thing, suck up light energy into their own darkened souls. Some do it intentionally, but many do it without even realizing they’re doing it.
Unfortunately, for yours truly, I sense it, all of it, & it’s always trying to pull at me, & by always, unless I am in a room alone with my cat, I have to continually be on guard, so no soul-suckers suck my soul. Say that fast 6 times, “So no soul-suckers suck my soul.” I jest, but they do, & these sort of notions are the foundation of my will to keep going, I suppose, because there has to be some meaning in my being here at all. I can’t let them beat me. There has to be something, right?…was Camus right/wrong when he talked about the meaningless of life is what gives life meaning, in his book The Myth of Sisyphus? It’s all so absurd, yes, & if God, any God, has forsaken you to be a drone-like slave, why go on? Why not just off one’s self? Camus discusses that too, & feel free to red for yourself, but personally, I think that sure, you could end your own life, & maybe it was always an option & you just get clean slate restart, you might think…but what if there is a mental hell after death? Not pitchforks & a giant frozen Lucifer hell, that’s all medieval fear porn, but some kind of mental hell, one that you put yourself into when you take your own life, what if that happens? It’s a lot to chance. Or what if you restart, only to have to do it all over again, like putting a record back onto the same song, when you abruptly end the song as it was playing? The song has to finish, before you can go on to the next one, which is another reason why taking your own life is not worth the risk you could face in the afterlife. The odds say so at least, statistical analysis isn’t objective, so again, the risk is just too favorable for the house, not one’s self, should one choose to take their own live by thine own hand.
Geez Louise, I’ve done it yet again, look at this. Like 5 pages of my drivel, & I should re-title this, “Back Behind Bars,” as opposed to, “Back Behind the Bar,” since let’s equate this dismal life to an un-ending incarceration of sorts. Life of solitary confinement: when you’re exiled from the digital town square, your friends are all dead, you have no family anymore, the money has gone back to the money-printers, you sleep on the floor, you have to liberate food to eat, you do a job that a trained monkey could do, you’ve wasted your whole life in a state of delusion & arrested development, after a youth full of abuse at all levels, you have zero hope, a weak skill set at best, no aspirations for a future that is sure to end up dystopian, & isolation has made you alien to the public. Yes, one’s own prison cell, with a little logo carved into the wall via a brick scratcher made out of old elongated toenails. Mine’s a fish, recognize. This is a world that has turned from a once-lush garden into a burned-out bushy mess. Only within a few years too, with the AI riding up fast as a leading dark horse. For yours truly, it’s been a complete 180, & I’m going to spend the rest of this ridiculous life selling legal dirt weed to unappreciative ratchet customers, but I guess that’s what I’ll have to do. Doesn’t matter though, nothing does, & as I said, why should it, why should a Godless 3d matrix mean anything to anyone? It’s all about money for most, money money money, chasing that money, & I just cannot abide it. I’m not even sure why, but my soul just doesn’t understand an artificially constructed currency, particularly something as atrocious as paper monopoly money, backed by literally nothing, & handed out to the people in the power pyramid like Pez on Halloween, while everyone else is forced to slave for it, all thanks to an illusion of scarcity. It’s NOT right, none of this is right, none of this is natural, but yet it continues, & it even grows, pulling more & more & more people into the depravity of power through dynamically corrupt & unprecedented means of wealth acquisition,
As usual, I have digressed into some dark waters, & I must end this diatribe now. Until next time dear readers, yours truly might be from another planet, one where money, & internets, & cell phones, & tyrannical power pyramids do not exist. Certainly not the first three, but it’s very difficult to incarnate on a planet that has no power pyramid. I think that most “sentient” entities biologically establish a hierarchy, whether intentional or not, to ultimately establish order, but here on earth, it’s an illusion. It’s an illusion they perpetrate & maintain, being taught so from birth, under the pseudo-guise that humans with free will must be controlled by those born to a higher station then they are. Again, these are illusions, all indoctrinated during the respective childhoods of varying members of the special bloodlines throughout the world. Generation after generation, they build their dynasties into empires. Someone without a family can only imagine what that’s like, to have a family, especially a family with power & wealth, imagine the possibilities, the obstacles you would never have to worry about, how far you could take your life, without ever worrying about money, so many fucking advantages, & you don’t have to be evil even if your family name is, unless…
…suppose that there’s a secret all elite family members share. Maybe there’s some great cosmic dark secret that they all share to retain the power they possess. Could there be one truth, one definitive solid truth, that keeps them, & us, really separate? Not talking about the caste system, no no, nothing like that; I am talking about the bloodlines. These people are all pedigreed, like a dog, & they have papers documenting their lineage. If you don’t have papers, you’re just another mutt, & you’re due to be sterilized & euthanized at some point in the not-so-distant future. Is that their true goal? Maybe I’m wrong, yes, I could be totally wrong, & all of this is a paranoid delusion. Perhaps a lobotomy would do me well, & if it were 75 years ago, let’s say, my parents, being the way they are, most likely would’ve used their insurance to lobotomize me in my youth, only to throw me into The Cuckoo’s Nest for the rest of my life. I would be just like Murphy, the only sane one in a world gone insane, & deemed as a “mental patient,” eventually frying my brain. Nope, no more dinners with the fam for the black sheep; those days are forever gone. So much wasted time, so much time, wasted. That is all for now. So sayeth FisH™ 🎏
I wish I knew what these dreams that I am having mean. They are just so real, so real that I don’t want to come back here to this wicked 3d waking world. I am totally somewhere else, with people I know, & know well, in places I know, & also know well, yet I have never been to these places or met these people ever in the “real” world. What is “real?” In these dreams, these places & people are more “real” than in this world, so again, what does “real” even mean? I have tried & tried & tried to find answers via my own research, & it seems that I am alone with this, because I cannot find anything helpful information about what these dreams I am having mean. One would think that there’d be at least one, ONE other person that has written about these things, & if any of you can find that person, or ARE that person, please comment below. Not holding my breath though, & I don’t need a safety blanket, because these dreams & visions are happening so often now, I have no question as to the fact that it IS definitely happening for some reason. I just like information, reasonings, definitions, meanings, but as with everything else in this world, I will have keep digging my own El Chaponian tunnel until I dig up the truth.
Some kind of vehicle, like a Segway, or a 4-wheeler maybe, liminal school, the buildings, the hallways, the rules, gah, it’s fading fast, where was I? There was a girl, was it the girl? The hallways, those endless concave hallways, concave from my fish-eyed eyes, or from the curvature of the globe we all stand upon, who knows? It’s all faded so fast now. Gah, when they fade, they fade like a sunset at the very end. Seems like it’s taking awhile, then at the very end, it just drops below the horizon for the night. Sometimes I catch them, sometimes I don’t, & if I do not write them down immediately, the timer begins. What I DO recall, however, is waking up, waking up back back here on prison planet, again, & being disappointed, you could say, once again, that I was pulled away, soul-sucked away from that place, & those people, before being able to adequately map it out. Don’t get confused, I don’t want to go to sleep, & not wake up, not yet anyway. I just want more time there, more time to roam around, to explore, to understand, & those kinds of things. The fascination with the notion that I somehow know these people, these places, & I understand it all, is arguably possessing me, in a way. It can’t mean nothing, because if it did, none of THIS would mean anything, considering how it seems just as real as this world, more so even. One difference is that at least I remember things from the dreams in this world, because when I am in my subconscious dream state, when I am there, I have ZERO recollection of being in this world at all. None.
I feel like I had a better inkling of how to illustrate this most recent one, in a much better manner, but damn if I haven’t forgotten most of it. There’s flashes, little pictures, but the plot, the premise, the people, wherever I was, it’s as gone as a passing storm. Doesn’t matter, I know I’ll go back, but when, when will I go back? I have no control, no control over these visions, these dreams, and/or any other abilities that I occasionally get little tastes of. Just surface-level abilities that all humans should know like second nature, yet we don’t, not anymore. What have the dark ones reduced us to? We’re one math problem above the apes; how has it come to this, how has humanity sunk this low? Yours truly included, I’m no smarter than any of you, quite the contrary in fact. If I didn’t have this, these parlor tricks with words, what would I have? Or these dreams, these visions, is that even anything out of the ordinary? What else would I have? I can’t find anything/anyone else who is having these experiences, & not from lack of looking, rest assured of that. I can’t enhance my lost abilities, only make the most out of the bread crumbs into a loaf. I’ve been up past the witching hours, every single night, until 5am or so, & then passing out as the shining Sun comes up, lucky to sleep until 9am. Within that time though, these dreams come, these epic sagas in my subconscious. Do you ever wonder if you are dead, but do not know it? I had the thought cross my mind, not more than a week ago, so I looked it up, & this is what I found:
Yes, after reading that link, I figured I was still alive, unless it’s a really elaborate trick to pop up a website “reassuring” me that I am not. Wouldn’t surprise me, hardly anything does anymore. Doesn’t matter, dead or not, I’m still stuck in this waking world of 3d artificiality. Funny how the internet never pops up in my dreams, because the internet is the AI, “artificial intelligence,” in an artificial reality, just like cell phones, & money, none of these things appear in dreams, because they’re all artificial constructs. Even cars, now that I think about it. Do I ever see cars in these dreams? I’m not sure that I do, even though there was some kind of ATV type vehicle in that last one, it was definitely not a car. If we could truly fly, like the angels do, like I have in many of these dreams, as easy as walking, we surely wouldn’t need cars, would we? More artificiality, oh, another one, power lines, or electricity as we know it, never seem to notice it, because there’s abundant amounts of free energy that we should all be able to tap in to. Tesla knew about it, & Edison & his cronies in Washington shut it down. Free energy means no power bills, & we can’t have that now can we? They have taken a lot more form humanity than most people can fathom. Most seem to have no idea as to the true powers we humans once possessed, before our DNA was deactivated, & essentially destroyed, & there doesn’t appear to be any surefire way to RE-activate it, or to give it some juice, for lack of a better term. Maybe for the young ones, the kids, there’s a chance, & perhaps that’s why the so-called “ruling elites” do terrible things to children, to get their DNA power. The level of degeneracy amongst a certain fringe minority of the adult population across the globe, in regard to what they do to children, is absolutely demonic. Please God in Heaven, if you’re still up there, make sure these evil vile soulless humans who do those things to the children receive a special level of eternal torture when they get to Hell, if any of that is even real. Forgive me for my doubts, I just read a lot of things that seem to offer countless variations of what does/does not happen when one ends their time here on Planet Earth. The world seems to be controlled by wickedness, & the people in power positions atop the Great Pyramid appear to be soulless. What’s that all about? None of the makes sense. Everything here appears to be backwards & upside-down. Asking for friends too. We just want some answers. Enough is enough is enough. Humanity is tired, tired of being enslaved. That is all. So sayeth FisH™🎏
There’s a series of channels on YouTube, which claim to be narrated “channeled” messages, messages from beings outside of this planet, as well as outside of this dimension. Obviously, I have no idea if they are, & if they’re even real at all. Lends credence to the notion that Carl Sagan detailed during his final television interview, where he illustrated a future world of technology, where the real technology is kept among the so-called “ruling elites,” while the general populous gets the scrap technology, for lack of a better expression, primarily to keep us at bay, while they use the real tech to advance themselves higher up the proverbial power pyramid. While we regular folks are playing with the aforementioned scrap tech, & unknowingly falling further & further behind, we will cling to superstitions in the hopes of a Divine reckoning of sorts, that most likely, will never come. I do not claim to believe nor disbelieve in these supposedly “channeled” messages, I simply find them interesting, particularly because they seem to have a kind of synchronous nature to them, in that they always hit on something that just so happens to be going on in my world at the moment. Not just at the time, but at the moment, almost precisely on occasion. Now either there is some kind of supernatural connection between these channelings & those of us who are knee-deep in our own unfolding spirituality, or as many psychics do, these ‘channelers” simply have an ability to come with things to say that can be applicable to anyone at any given time when spoken the right way. I’d like to believe I am personally not that naive, but I’ve believed a lot of things for a long time, only to snap out of it one day & embrace the self-realization of realizing I was gullible.
If there were ascended beings communicating through human counterparts, how else would they do what they do? None of these channels have a lot of viewers/listeners, none of them use sponsors and/or attempt to make money from posting these communications, so what reason would they have to do any of it, if they didn’t sincerely believe they were channeling messages designed to help humanity, especially such a small fringe minority of us who give them the light of day(pun intended). Often, our “missions” as so-called light beings are illustrated, albeit in a somewhat nebulous manner, & yes, I know, it sounds very new-agey, kind of weird of course, & I often ask myself, why me? I ask myself that a lot in relation to many things though, why me? Why do I have this kind of consciousness? Why am I so different from most other people? Why don’t I have a family? Why am I seemingly alone in this world, minus a handful of digital friends? Why do have this personality that I have? Why me? Why was I born into this existence, with all of these issues? Why me? Why am I the lone bastard black sheep? Why do I see the world from a perspective not shared by many, if any? Why can’t I just be functional? Why me? Am I wrong, wrong about everything I think I know? Wrong about the way I have determined I have to survive in this 3d pseudo-reality? Wrong about the way I think the world really is? Why do I think I’m wrong? Why do I think I’m right? Why me? Why am I stupid, in the sense that I have no real skills? Why did I incarnate in this particular life? If I was allowed to choose, as some say, why the fuck would I pick this? Out of the billions of possibilities, why would I choose this? If we could really choose, why would someone choose to be an abused child? Why would someone choose to be retarded? Why would someone choose to die slowly & painfully from a terminal cancer? Why would someone choose to be born in the slums of Mumbai? I am not so sure that people get to choose anything before they incarnate, or reincarnate…no, I am not so sure of that at all.
Not that I remember where I was prior to this, as none of us do, as far as we know anyway. Sure, there’s a few anomalies; people who claim they can recall their past lives, but there is n real proof, other than their own claims & their own loose “evidence.” Nope, no one knows for sure where they were before this trip down on 3d prison planet Earth, & no one is certain where we go after we take that final breath here. I’d like to believe it’s a trip to wherever it is you go when you dream, only a trip you don’t have to wake up back here from, thank God. You get to stay home, your galactic home in a dream, a dream that you have always known, always been aware of, only due to to the confines of said prison planet, you cannot recall it in its entirety, if you can recall it at all. I feel like I can recall it, to some extent, as I have detailed in several posts, several recent posts, as there’s been a noticeable increase of my journey back to this dream utopia I keep falling asleep then “waking” into, as if this 3d world is the dream. At best, I’d say I’m lucky to get 3-4 hours of sleep at a time, 3-4 hours of this 4d time here, this linear 4d time. In the dreams, however, time, as I know it here, is distorted. Some of these dreams go on for days, days in the dream time, but only a literal handful of hours in waking 4d linear time. All I can surmise, is that 4d time as we know it is askew in dreams, due to the influence of the 5th dimension, which is subject in no way to 4d time, unless one’s subconsciousness is stuck in the void between 3d, 4d, & 5d, & only occurs when we fall asleep here in 3d space. Dimensions follow the Fibonacci sequence I think, with spatial dimensions being 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, & so on, while the temporal dimensions would be the “connecting” numbers in between…4, 6, 7, 9,10,11,12, 14-20, & so on.
Obviously, I am no scientist, no physicist, no great thinker, no sage, nothing of the sort, & I have no way to prove any of what I just said, & I’m sure one of those people could easily explain how something like string theory or the 11 dimension theory makes more sense, with their own proof. In my little brain, it just seems to make sense, since virtually everything in this Universe “exists’ according to The Golden Ratio, Pi, Phi, Fibonacci, etc. We humans are so much more than we’ve been un-educated to be, & on top of the dumbing-down via school indoctrination camps, the powers-that-be have poisoned the water, the food, the minds of most of us, via broadcast programming, that at this point, it’s arguably a feat that we can wipe our own asses anymore. Obviously, this isn’t everyone, for there are many, many people out there who can do things that blow the mind. Doctors, engineers, computer programmers, even the corner mechanic in a small town, yes, there are many people from many walks of life who are brilliant in their own right, certainly more brilliant than my dumb ass. Then there are others, others who exist as though they were true-to-life NPCs, that just breed, consume, discuss nothing of merit, repeat, & that’s it, that’s all they do. I’m not much better, at least one of them usually has a job they specialize in through experience that I do not know how to do. I find myself floundering trying to humble myself lately. Why me, I ask again, what makes me so God-damned special? Nothing, NOTHING does, because I am not special. The AI can now do this, what I am doing right now, what I have always considered a unique talent, this way with words, the AI can do in a matter of seconds. It can be biased, not be biased, illustrate in any length, any tone, any way you want it. It can cite examples, evidence, utilize images, videos, it can do anything yours truly can do, before yours truly even finishes writing a title out. That puts me just above last place as far as usefulness goes. No employers care enough about my unfiltered “human-based” approach to writing articles, when they can get what they need with no spin in mere moments, & all for free, no cost.
No, the AI doesn’t need money, & neither do humans, but since we’ve been led to believe otherwise, then forced to know that if we do not have their self-printed Monopoly™ money, we cannot survive, & are just killing ourselves, killing ourselves slowly, stretching it out, draining ourselves with all of our life energy given to a power beyond ourselves. That’s just before we die, then after we die, The Great Recycler continues to drain us of our soul energy, leaving our memories wiped, our karma fucked, then figuratively shitting us back out as a newborn baby, to do ti all again, & the ouroboros can continue to eat itself, in a never-ending cycle, for all of time. Again, these are only the thoughts from the thinking mind of someone that is just a clueless human, for the most part. I have nothing, I am nothing, I am certainly no greater than any of you. Why me, why me, why me? I don’t have a purpose, no one to care, no family, no real friends, I have nothing, nothing at all, except these words I diligently & digitally pen down on the daily, for all of you, & for none of you at all. Why me, why do I this? I do this because I have nothing, & because it’s meaningless, I have found meaning in it, even though it only means something to me, thanks to The Myth of Sisyphus, & the words of Albert Camus. I’ll never be known, never be among the great writers, never be anything at all, & once I’m gone, I’ll slip into the digital oblivion forever, not a soul even knowing I was here. Maybe that’s for the best, as it’s all so absurd, so who really cares anyway? No one, not a single soul, will ever know, what I know or don’t know, & on that note, it’s time to go, as this pure stream-of-consciousness diatribe has reached its uneventful ending. Until next time dear readers, check out the channeled messages, as I have linked a few here for you. Check them out for you, not for me, or don’t check them out at all, because in the Great Picture, it matters not either way. So sayeth FisH™🎏
Yours truly is undergoing a week-long stay in a shitty hotel in a ratchet part of North Denver, & oh my, has it been fun. First off, the room smells; it smells like overdoses, prostitution, moldy shower curtains, & an A/C unit that pumps out “fresh” air smells of must & ass. There’s no microwave, or mini-fridge, so I’ve been living on fresh fruits & donuts. I had to use some Macgyver tactics to keep the curtain closed, draped over a window that has no lock, so theoretically, a thief, or a serial killer, could easily just open the window & hop in. Fortunately, I am armed to the teeth, so if anyone comes in, it’ll be the last window they ever jump through, but I digress, now where was I? Oh yes, the bed is actually comfortable, surprisingly, but the A/C blows right onto it, so if I’m lucky enough to sleep for a few hours, I have to bundle up with the extra comforter I stole from the maid’s laundry area when the managers weren’t looking. The irony, I know, talking about thieves but I had to steal a comforter. It’s not actually theft, since I’m not keeping it, obviously, so I consider it as just borrowing. Speaking of thievery, the door has definitely been kicked in; the frame shows signs of breaking & entering, & even though the door locks, the lock was put on backwards. Let’s see…what else before I move on to the outside of the room…what else, what else? Oh, I am using the drawers as a makeshift table/place to write this on my computer, & as I look to my left, while I type this, I see that the left drawer is missing entirely, which leaves a nice little hidey-hole for my cat to play in. Poor little guy, but he’s been such a super-trooper over this last week we’ve gone through. Luckily, I think I’ve found a safe place for us to stay, but more on that later. Now, let’s talk about the outside of the room.
I’m right by a major 4-lane highway, & although the sound of the cars has become like white noise to me, the sirens from the emergency vehicles that speed by every 15-20 minutes or so is quite loud. Since I just mentioned “emergency vehicles,’ we will segue into the emergency vehicles that have been here EVERY SINGLE DAY that I’ve been here. Not exaggerating either…EVERY SINGLE DAY. The first day some guy overdosed by the dumpster, which was/still is, over-flowing with trash. Yep, overdosed right next to it, which resulted in 3 police cruisers, a firetruck, & an ambulance, in no particular order. Don’t know if he died, but the manger told me he overdosed. I didn’t see that incident until after he was in the ambulance & heading away. Next day though, I DID see an incident with my own eyes. Ready for this one? It’s a real doozy of a story.
Okay, so an Indian fellow, a tall Indian fellow with the stereotypical Indian guy perv-stache, was walking around completely naked. No shoes or socks even, as naked as it gets. This dude had a pubic bush that was so big, there might have been some baby birds nesting in there. Quite revolting, right? He was on the phone, just parading around in his skinsuit, his little mushroom tip just barely sticking out of the bush, talking to a party unknown on the phone. The manager called the cops, & I suppose the naked Indian noticed, so he ran back to his room, & put clothes on, some jeans & a pink button up shirt. Very classy. Then, after clothing himself, the moron came back outside, still talking on the phone, just as the cops arrive. The manager, a toothless former methhead named Christy, pointed to him & said, “That’s him, that’s the guy.” The officer told him to get off of his phone so he could ask him some questions, & what does Apu do? He pulls a knife on the police officer that told him to get off the phone, & so, the officer takes his baton, whacks the guy’s hand so he drops the knife, & charges him with a solid open-field front tackle. Very brave of the cop to do, but he did it, as the other cops immediately pulled out their guns. The tackling officer then gets up, backs up, & one of the other cops hit Apu with the taser gun. BZZZZZZZZZZZZ…followed by a scream from Apu, as he writhes around on the ground with 50,000 volts buzzing though his body. Then all of the cops dog pile him as they cuff him up. Apparently, in Colorado, if you get tazed, you go to a hospital, rather than jail, which is standard procedure in a liberal “blue-city” shithole. Nonetheless, that was day two, & you know there’s a hat trick coming next.
Today, I’m not sure what happened, but as I pulled up to Hotel Hell from my daily job hunting quest, there were several cop cars leaving, so maybe it was an unruly guest, as the other guests besides yours truly are the dregs of society, so perhaps yet another overdose. Maybe a streetwalker got herself all smacked up for coming home short. I’m pretty sure some of the guests are hookers & their pimps. There’s a shitload of Mexican construction workers, 5-6 piled high into one-bedroom rooms. There’s a few that clearly just got of jail recently. They have a certain kind of walk, a posture, if you will, from walking in lines in their respective prison garb. Maybe other people don’t notice said posture, but I do, & in conjunction with the jailhouse tattoos, to me it’s obvious that some of the guests here were locked up recently. One had a giant clown face tattooed on the back of his shaved head, so yeah, it’s obvious. Before I digress into some random tangent, I do have mention the parking lot. I already told you about the overflowing eyesore dumpster, which is at the back of the parking lot, & as for the parking lot itself, it has so many holes in it that it looks like a cluster-bomb war happened, similar to Dresden circa 1944. I walk out onto the balcony often to smoke a cig, because one, I don’t want to miss the next “incident,” that goes down, & two, to watch my car so no junkie breaks into it. I have my 12-gauge boomstick locked in the trunk, as well as my safe, which doesn’t have anything in it , even though it does, but that’s my secret. Regardless, I get up & walk outside every hour or so to do a perimeter watch, since I cannot sleep very well due to this elephant-on-my-back anxiety I have from being all on my own now in this life.
Yep, just Milo the cat & yours truly now. No more family, except a cousin, & a handful of friends that I can count on one hand with my thumb & pointer finger still outward facing. My life has done a complete 180 degree turn & then some since these corrupt democratic communists stole the election, then proceeded to destroy this once great country, now termed the USSA, the United Socialist States of America. Believe it or not, this country is now arguably a communist dictatorship, being systematically turned into smoldering rubble. Do you think Potato Joe Biden is the POTUS? I’ll clear that up right now if you do…& the answer is: NO, NO NO NO NO NO he isn’t anything, except a perverted puppet. The real POTUS, the one in the shadows giving the orders, is none other than former POTUS Barack Obama, a CIA plant, who was s-elected to do one thing, proverbially burn this country to the ground, which is happening, right on schedule. Us “regular folks,” can barely put food in the fridge, rents are outrageous, you need two jobs AT LEAST, just to get by. It’s fucking ridiculous. A friend of mine told me it’s because we are in the Kali Yuga, which is the 4th, & worst era for mankind that lasts about ohhhhh…450,000 years or so. It’s an era of destruction, which makes sense, because as I’ve written about ad nauseam, the end goal by 2030 is for 7 billion, BILLION, of us gone. Us “regular folks,” of course, because the so-called “ruling elites,” plan on rebuilding the planet after we are all wiped out, with a one world order agenda. AI is getting exponentially more advanced by the second now, I presume, so it’s just a matter of time before most of us are jobless since AI will be able the jobs that most of us do, even as far as performing life-saving surgeries. It’s going to be like some Mad Maxian dystopian surveillance state nightmare, & most people have no idea.
Fortunately, I do, but what can I do about it? Nothing, nothing at all, & as a writer, I’m fucked. There’s already a button on here that one can press to write whatever they want to write about with the AI assistant. Maybe I should try it out, since we’re on the subject, & see what happens. Ready? Okay, here we go, & be sire to keep in mind that whatever comes next in this article, is the AI, & NOT yours truly. I’ll be right back…enjoy the cock pic…
The Kali Yuga, also known as the Age of Kali, is a concept in Hindu cosmology that refers to the current age or era we are living in. According to Hindu scriptures, the Kali Yuga is the final of the four Yugas (ages) within a cyclic pattern that repeats endlessly.In the Hindu tradition, each Yuga is associated with a different set of qualities, societal norms, and spiritual conditions. The Kali Yuga is considered to be the darkest and most challenging of all the ages. It is characterized by a decline in morality, spiritual awareness, and a rise in materialism and ignorance.According to ancient scriptures such as the Mahabharata and the Vishnu Purana, the Kali Yuga is said to be a time of widespread corruption, conflicts, and moral decay. It is believed that human beings in this age are predominantly driven by selfishness, greed, and harmful desires. Virtues such as honesty, compassion, and integrity are believed to be rare during this era.However, despite these challenges, the concept of the Kali Yuga also offers a glimmer of hope. It is said that in this age, spiritual liberation can be achieved through simple acts of devotion and by surrendering to a higher power. It is believed that even a small amount of spiritual practice or righteous action can have a profound impact in this era of darkness.The concept of the Kali Yuga serves as a reminder to embrace spiritual values and strive for personal growth amidst the challenging circumstances of the current age. It encourages individuals to seek inner transformation and cultivate virtues that can uplift themselves and the world around them.Overall, the concept of the Kali Yuga provides a framework to understand and navigate the complexities of our existence, reminding us that even in the darkest of times, there is always the possibility of spiritual awakening and growth.
You see that? THAT is what the AI can do now, in a matter of 3-4 seconds. Crazy, right? There’s no way a human can keep up, especially when the AI gets more advanced. Writers like yours truly, will become obsolete, & this is just as it relates to writers, now imagine all of the other things the AI can/will do. I don’t know about you, but to me, this is fucking insane, particularly when I know that those so-called “ruling elites,” have a sinister AI-based agenda, as they want to merge with the AI, to become like gods, living much longer than the average human life span, as we all get slaughtered because we will become “less-than,” so to speak, & only get in the way of their new world order plan. 7 BILLION, with a big B, gone, gone by 2030, hence why I always emphasize that if you think things are crazy now, just wait, because the figurative roller-coaster isn’t even at the top of the first drop. Hell, the damn thing hasn’t even started going up the track, compared to what’s coming. Everyone is feeling tremendous social anxiety analogous to getting on the roller coaster, anticipating the ride, but as I said, just sitting there waiting for the safety bar to drop, since the real ride hasn’t even begun yet. Stay seated, & keep your arms & legs inside the carriage dear readers.
When 2024 gets here, & all of these bureaucratic corrupted soulless power-drunk politicians atop the power pyramid wage war on one another to take the reigns, THAT is when the ride begins, & no matter how bad it seems now, it’s only going to get worse, MUCH MUCH MUCH worse. So buckle up dear readers, & until next time, prepare accordingly. So sayeth FisH™🎏
Serum-925 was created in a lab by a Chinese scientist named Dr. Shuyi. Dr. Shuyi had a long & accredited reputation for creating various viruses & bacteria, that he himself intended to be beneficial for the human race. His overlords, however, the CCP(Chinese Communist Party), had other intentions, intentions not so benevolent. The CCP had grown weary of United States global dominance, particularly the dominance of the United States dollar. The U.S. dollar had been the global currency for decades, even after the gold standard was removed in 1971, thus the value of the U.S. dollar was now-backed by literally nothing, & to the quickly-advancing Chinese economy, this was unacceptable. It was time, the time of the planetary financial reign of the USA to come to an end. The lone issue stopping the Chinese from taking total dominion over the world’s currency exchange for themselves, was one thing: armed Americans. Open hot nuclear war would be devastating, much too messy, for all involved, as well as for those not involved. They needed a solution, something that would non-violently wipe away their mortal enemy from the West, without affecting the Chinese, & the rest of the world, & so, they looked to Dr. Shuyi, for an answer he could not refuse to give . They took him aside one day, & by “took aside,” they stormed into his office, armed, & took him away from his morning paperwork to meet with a man known as Mr. Wang. “Wang,” in China, is the equivalent of “Smith,” in English, & most likely was not this man’s real name. Anonymity was important, as well as compartmentalization, because the USA had spies everywhere, even inside the CCP, & Mr. Wang needed Dr. Shuyi to do something, for the future of his country, that the Americans must never be made aware of.
Dr. Shuyi was blindfolded, & brought to a room, a room with no view, no windows, only a desk & 2 chairs, & a CCP flag in the corner. Mr. Wang was brief & to the point, & told Dr. Shuyi that he needed to make a new virus, one that would kill whoever it infected, but kill them slowly, however not too slowly. It must be RNA-activated, engineered to ONLY infect those who had taken the messenger-RNA Covid vaccines approved in the USA, which would be the Pfizer, Moderna, & Johnson & Johnson vaccines, in no particular order. Since those vaccines were used less in most places outside of the continental United States, there would be little risk of infecting anyone who resided beyond the boundaries of the borders of the USA. Clearly the plan had begun several years prior to what the CCP was orchestrating now. Additionally, the Big Pharma industry must have involvement, & although astounded by the awareness of other shadowy globalist actors, along with the secrecy kept due to impressive compartmentalization, who was Dr. Shuyi to ponder these notions, to ask questions, or think for himself? He was no one, certainly not an individual, but only a tool, & in China, you do what you’re told without question & think only of total obedience to the State, & so Dr. Shuyi embraced his task, & continued with his instructional orders.
There needed to be a incubation period of one to two weeks, then after incubation ended, the virus needed to exit the host body. It would be made to spread quickly throughout the bloodstream, eventually stopping the heart, then exiting said host body through pores on the skin, to go airborne, & then spread quickly, infecting everyone within a one to two mile radius who had been jabbed, as the terminology goes in the West. This virus must perform precisely as it was designed, so as not to spread in an out-of-control rampant manner, & possibly mutating. Additionally, & this was of highest importance, the virus needed to be fire-resistant, because unknown to Dr. Shuyi, this would be the means utilized for the initial infections. A series of wildfires would be started all across the Canadian wilderness in Northern North America, from west to east. Thousands of fires would be intentionally ignited, so that the virus could be dropped into these wildfires from the air, & as the virulent smoke moved into the jet stream that stretched across the expanse of the USA, from Montana to Maine, it would prove the most effective means of contamination, drawing little to no attention to the Chinese. Of course, there were a few extraneous minor details included in the instructions given from Mr. Wang to Dr. Shuyi, as to the manner of testing, but we will get to that shortly.
At first, like any human being with a conscience, Dr. Shuyi was struck by a sense of sadness that he could not openly express or share, by the directions given to him by Mr. Wang. The doctor, with a blank expression, had dedicated his life to bio-engineering viruses & bacteria that would prove beneficial to humanity, not destructive, but he had no choice. He loved his country, his people, & much more than that, his own family. Mr. Wang wasn’t asking Dr. Shuyi though, he was ordering him to do this, & left some pictures of his wife, & his two sons, telling Dr. Shuyi that if he wanted his family to be safe, he would do as he was told. Dr. Shuyi let Mr. Wang know that he did not need to be reminded of this, & would begin the project immediately, for the love of the CCP, & the future of the Chinese people. He was then blindfolded again, taken back to his office, & the entire event had seemingly ended as abruptly as it began, all taking place within the span of an hour. In one short hour, Dr. Shuyi’s life had taken a complete turn, but not for the worse, or the better, because it was all about perspective. He could not think of anything other than completing the task given. From the view of the Americans, China was the enemy, the unquestionable dominant adversary, but from the view of his own country, the USA was the true enemy, the great antagonist, a nemesis representing the greatest of threats to the Chinese Communist Party & the Chinese way of life. If Dr. Shuyi succeeded, he would be a hero, forever remembered in future history, as a savior of the Chinese homeland. Also, he & his family would not only remain alive, they would be honored, & so, he walked to his lab to begin immediately, quickly having all of his prior work removed by his assistants, leaving the lab entirely new, a proverbial blank slate, so to speak, for him to begin this new assignment. This would be the only assignment, in all likelihood, Dr. Shuyi would ever work on again.
It only took a week, just the span of a week, for testing to begin on various compounds he had created. The CCP notoriously used homeless vagrants as derelict test subjects, which was common practice, as they offered no benefit to the State, & no one would question their sudden disappearance. The recruiters, as it were, handed out pamphlets to the street people, telling them that it was a new “medicine,” designed to help them recover their lost lives from poverty & destitution, as if they had a choice in the matter. Quickly, “volunteers” showed up in droves, providing Dr. Shuyi with more-than-enough subjects to test the the various concoctions on, until the perfect virus was discovered & isolated. Over the next week, countless subjects were infected with the different compounds that Dr. Shuyi had created. The subjects were placed inside a sealed room with a single chair, told to sit down, & to breathe normally, as something akin to Chinese elevator music played from an unseen speaker. The potential viruses were then put into condensers inside of special ovens, which cooked at a temperature similar to the heat of a wildfires. The soft white smoke would then flow through the air ducts that led into the sealed room where the test subjects sat. The subjects would inhale the smoke, then be placed into a quarantine room which connected to the testing room via a single airtight door, so as to allow the virus to incubate.
Around the one-to-two week mark, after the test subjects were initially infected, the effects began, & all sorts of horrifying conditions began to develop. After the incubation ended, as intended, the virus spread rapidly through the bloodstream, searing the arteries as it traveled, which to the test subjects, felt as though they were burning to death from the inside out. They’d convulse & writhe, in unimaginable agonizing pain as this happened, making the seconds feel like eternities. Upon exiting their bodies through the pores on their skins, the viruses would rupture the pores, emitting blackened pus, like little volcanoes, as the thousands of individually necrotic eruptions created a hell that no man would wish upon his worst enemy. It would take 1-2 minutes for the subjects to go through the viral mechanism, which felt like series of tortuous lifetimes in their minds, as each pore burned & corroded, allowing the various test viruses to escape into the open air, & once the subjects were dead, the entire room was incinerated with a special gelatinous gas, insuring that the viruses could not escape the testing room, while also “sanitizing” the room before the next test subject was brought in.
These test trials went on for a few months , & then one day, Mr. Wang showed up in Dr. Shuyi’s laboratory. He asked Dr. Shuyi how the tests were going, & Dr. Shuyi, with a nervousness in his voice, told Mr. Wang that the virus was successful, but he was having difficulty keeping the virus alive upon exiting the bodies of the subjects. At best, the virus would only survive for a few seconds, before it too, would be as dead as the host body it had been birthed from. Mr. Wang then told, or rather, he demanded, that Dr. Shuyi complete the project within the next month, or one of his sons would “disappear,” & then the following month, his other son, would also, “disappear.’ Dr. Shuyi knew that there were no more options, & there was little time left, so he had to finish the project successfully, soon. He had no choice, but to increase the number of test subjects, as well as utilize more rooms to test the potential viruses in. He asked Mr. Wang to accommodate these requests, & with a nod, Mr. Wang left the room. Dr. Shuyi spent the rest of the day writing down various chemical formulas, & thinking of his family, as well as his role in this agenda, so to speak, but he knew that the clock was ticking, so he quickly unthought those thoughts to solely focus on what he had been told to do by the mysterious Mr. Wang. He did not go home that night, passing out with his head on his notebook. He had a dream, an exceptionally vivid dream, & in this dream, an answer came to him, in the form of a formulaic compound, one he had overlooked prior. When he awoke, he was told that there were 2 new rooms for testing, so now three in total, & that there were countless new subjects ready, ready to take their “medicine.” He looked down at his notebook, & recalling the dream, he began to feverishly write. As if by some divine force, as he gazed upon the notes he’d just written, & there it was, a new formula, THE new formula, but was it the right formula? He looked at the time, & the clock read, “9:25,” & so he wrote the time above this new formula he had written down…Serum-925.
Dr. Shuyi immediately began the tests, infecting 6 “patients” with control viruses, & then 3 more of them with Serum-925. The test subjects were then placed in the observation rooms, 3 to a room, as the incubation period began, & all Dr. Shuyi could do was wait. A week went by, & the subjects showed no signs of the infection, as they read books, & watched the State-sponsored programs being broadcast to little TVs in the corners of the rooms between the ceiling & the wall, thinking they’d been given “medicine,” a medicine that would miraculously give them a new life, one where they would be assets to the State, rather than another mouth to feed. Watching this all day & night was causing Dr. Shuyi to become very anxious…so anxious in fact, that he could nary sleep a wink. This first week seemed infinite, & with no symptoms showing themselves, Dr. Shuyi again began to worry about his family, & what would happen to them if Serum-925 didn’t work as directed, but as always, he quickly shrugged those thoughts away, because he knew he needed to focus on a positive result, & nothing else. As mentioned earlier, however, the incubation period ran from one to two weeks, so there was still time, still one week to go. Dr. Shuyi had come so far, & the formulaic equations he had written down came together perfectly, like a completed jigsaw puzzle, yet still, no symptoms, no changes, nothing. He occasionally listened to the random conversations that the test subjects were having amongst themselves. They often talked about the new lives they’d lead once “cured,” & their devotion to the State for “fixing” their failed & wretched lives. “Mice,” the good doctor said to himself, “they are only mice, here to be tested & disposed of as mice are,” trying to convince himself that they were not men, but mice. Deep down, he knew he was lying to himself, along with reflecting on his own inhumanity, as he viewed the final days of these mens’ lives, & thought of his own inhumane disposition at what he was doing…what kind of doctor could go along with such a thing? As always though, he pushed these self-realizations aside, burying them, never to be resurrected, for he was soon to be a deliverer, a great conservator for the State, or dead, along with his family, who he so desperately loved.
The second week began & day one of week two was dreadful for Dr. Shuyi; the “patients” were still the same, content & healthy, no changes. Onto day two, still nothing, day three went by, & STILL, no symptoms. A small television was inside Dr. Shuyi’s laboratory, always broadcasting state-sponsored news media, the same as what the test subjects were watching, mainly about the power of the CCP, the usual stereotypical communist propaganda, along with occasional scripted “news” stories, that more-often-than-not, glorified the State in one way or another. However, something came on that caught Dr. Shuyi’s attention. A series of wildfires had erupted all across Canada, & not just a few, there were THOUSANDS of them, stretching across the entire country, from British Columbia to Quebec. There were so many fires in fact, that the whole of the country appeared to be on fire, & Dr. Shuyi quickly realized, that the plan to spread the virus across North America, had begun. The clock was ticking, & ticking fast, as though time itself was speeding up, & Dr. Shuyi knew that his time was running out.
Day four came, & Dr. Shuyi, eyes wide from insomnia, could barely write anymore, as his hands were shaking from tremors, due to the lack of sleep. His mind was a jumbled mess, a mix of anxiety, anger, depression, but most of all, fear, for he was afraid that if he failed, he would never see his family alive again. Why wasn’t the virus working as intended? He had gone over the formulas he had written down, over & over & over again, & he just couldn’t rationalize what was going wrong. He pounded his fists on the table, & the force of the thud, turned over his stained & near-empty coffee cup on the desk, spilling what was left of the cold coffee, which formed a small puddle at the edge of his desk, & began to drip onto the floor. Dr. Shuyi watched it drip for a moment, staring, as he once again, thought about his family. He then snapped out of his gaze, & walked over to grab some paper towels to clean up the mess. Just then, a sound went off from the loudspeaker, & the voice on the other side, notified Dr. Shuyi that the process was beginning, & that the test subjects were starting to convulse. Dr. Shuyi stopped what he was doing, leaving the paper towel he was grabbing half-torn, as well as the spilled coffee, & rushed to the observation room to watch what was happening. He felt a rush of excitement overcome him, utterly disregarding the fact that more human test subjects were about to experience a most-violent death, as he could only feel happy that his family might be saved, should the virus survive.
The exhaustion from all the sleeplessness, along with the symptoms of insomnia, subsided, as Dr. Shuyi hurriedly ran to the observation area, which was a room, with a series of chairs, & a 2-way mirror for the viewers to view the test subjects, as they died in agony from the various compounds they had been exposed to. The fact that these human test subjects were dying a horrible death mattered not, nor did the potential for billions to die in the same manner, as Dr. Shuyi could only think of his family, & that his success ensured their survival, as well as his own. Strange the way the mind works, isn’t it? How could one be “happy,” when billions of lives were at stake? Still, as always, these kinds of thoughts escaped Dr. Shuyi, as he eagerly watched the test subjects writhing on the floor, screaming in terror, as the post-incubated virus began painfully working its way through the blood of these “patients,” seeking to escape from these human test subjects’ convulsing bodies, through each & every pore on their skin. The shock of it all, to any “normal” person, would be unbearable to watch, particularly to a doctor, yet Dr. Shuyi gleefully continued to observe, as the subjects’ pores began to erupt the virus, those tiny little volcanoes, spewing out the blackened pus, as the subjects gasped one final time before their hearts stopped . Fortunately, the room was soundproof, & Dr. Shuyi could not hear their screams, or the last gasping. If he had, perhaps he might’ve had a moment of clarity, a revelation, that what he was doing was not only wrong, it was pure evil, but all he heard was the surreal sound of silent shrieking. It took roughly 90 seconds for the subjects to stop moving, & now was the moment of truth for Dr. Shuyi, for if the virus had died along with the test subjects, he & his family would be dead as well, but if the virus had survived, Dr. Shuyi would become legendary, a permanent hero, for the only God he knew, the CCP.
The time had come, & some men in biohazard suits with various instruments, began entering the room via a decontamination walkway of sorts. First, they needed to flip the bodies of the test subjects over, as they had all perished face down. They needed to get to the vital organs, as well as take blood samples, tissue samples, etc. The subjects had left a mess on the floor, which was now stained with the blackened pus, one of them leaving a haunting handprint, which Dr. Shuyi noticed from the observation room, & for a fleeting moment, some minuscule sense of humanity overcame him, as he thought about his own son, the youngest one, making handprint art for him only a few months prior. The shouts from the testers in the biohazard suits quickly flushed those thoughts away, however, as Dr. Shuyi had finally gotten the news he had been so anxiously awaiting to hear. The virus was alive, virulently alive, aggressively healthy, yearning to survive & thrive within another victim. Dr. Shuyi was instantly ecstatic, consumed with joy, the joy of all that was to come for him, & his family, with zero inclinations as to what this meant for the human race. A few more tests would be needed, for sure, but Dr. Shuyi knew that Mr. Wang would be quite pleased that Dr. Shuyi had been successful in the task he was given. He would be honored, taking his place among the historic halls of distinguished heroes, a savior of the Chinese Communist Party, for the rest of time, & his family would be at his side, glorified eternally as well by the Chinese people, HIS people.
The fires in Canada continued to rage, most of them uncontrollably now, & the smoke was covering cities in the United States from Bismarck to Manhattan, riding the current of the jet stream. Only the Western part of the United States was spared the smoke from these wildfires, thanks to the wind shear courtesy of the Rocky Mountains, sloping the western half of the country from New Mexico to Montana. News reports in the United States had begin to warn residents of the air quality, & blamed the wildfires on “lightning strikes,” but none of them had a clue as to what really created this country-wide inferno engulfing much of Canada, as well as what was really about to come from these intentionally set fires. Setting the fires was easy, but getting Serum-925 virus into these fires, would be another feat in itself. Meanwhile, Dr. Shuyi had been reunited with his family, who he held close for several minutes, so long that his wife showed a glint of concern as to why Dr. Shuyi, a normally expressionless man, suddenly seemed so cheerfully happy to see them all, as if he hadn’t seen them in a very long time. She had no idea of what he had done, or how close she & her children had been to being “disappeared,” via the orders of Mr. Wang. Dr. Shuyi had always been a loving father, but when the tears of joy fell at the sight of seeing them alive, his wife knew that something was different, but as was common with Chinese wives, she asked no questions & showed no concern, simply assuming that Dr. Shuyi had done something great for not only his family, but for the country. Unconditional love & total devotion to the State was primary in China, above all else, & as the adoration from CCP members began to befall Dr. Shuyi & his family, Dr. Shuyi’s wife got caught up in the moment, & quickly forgot about the tears that her husband had shed upon reuniting with his family.
Across the ocean in the United States, breaking news reports began to be broadcast, reports of unidentified balloons flying high above the western parts of North America, first from Alaska, & then from northwest British Columbia, & then down to Montana. The objects were still unidentified, only that they looked to be “balloons” of some kind, & that there were several, slowly moving east, as they drifted into the interior of Canada, & then down into the Continental United States, following the jet stream. What the news reports did not report, however, was that these were the dispensing mechanisms for the Serum-925 virus, & that the balloons were moving into position, to do just that, dispense this deadly virus. A series of canister’s on the underside of the balloons, which had now been successfully guided by GPS via radio frequencies into strategically proper positions, began releasing the Serum-925 virus into the atmosphere above the wildfires. The virus fell into the clouds of smoldering smoke from the raging flames below, which was heavier than the air, & as the smoke lost altitude, it descended with the ash, now contaminated with the very-much-alive Serum-925 virus, & began to cover American & Canadian cities.
Quickly, the pathogen, created in a lab by the great guardian of the CCP, Dr. Shuyi, began to infect the human populations below, unknowingly, as the “vaccinated” people below breathed in what they thought to be smoky air, but only the air of wildfires, as was common at this time of the year when wildfires annually occurred. Surprisingly, few wore masks, which was a stark contrast to the mass psychosis displayed by mask-wearers during the Covid epidemic. This went on for a week, then week two began, as Americans rallied to celebrate the 4th of July, ironically a celebration of freedom & independence. What the North American public did not know, was that the Serum-925 virus had been inhaled now, by millions of them, millions who were so desperate to get the jab during Covid, as well as many of them getting “boosted,” preparing them for the real Chinese-created pandemic, which would undoubtedly, kill them all once the incubation of the virus came to fruition, for lack of a better term. The Serum-925 virus entered their bodies, through the mouth & nose, down into the lungs, to incubate, before it awakened, so to speak, & began to violently erupt, from each & every pore on their skin, like the little volcanos that Dr. Shuyi witnessed from the observation room, expelling the black pus magma, leaving the gruesome handprint on the floor, from the last “patient” he would ever treat. So began the end, the end of us, the end of these United States of America.
“For all of you, & for none of you at all.” by Fish F. Fish🎏
No colors in the cybernated standish today, just black & white…as the paint fades…(enter the piano)…leaving only ebony, & ivory, “in perfect harmony,” as Paul & Mike might say, now fade fade fade out the colorama…
To read this bullshit article via Yahoo News, click HERE
Despite my previous post, which CLEARLY exposed the pre-production of this Titanic sub event that was broadcast, cast broadly, like a spell, most of you STILL believe that fakery really happened, don’t you?…& with the mainstream news juggernaut STILL programming you all to believe that scripted events such as these are real, one could see why, right? Oh, it all looks so real, so really real though, right? Quite convincing, yes, as convincing as the magic of Hollywood, isn’t it?
Yours truly has fought like a hungry rabid lion trying to wake you people up to the Titanical depths of the fake news mainstream media Operation Mockingbird control machine(pun intended). Yes, that’s right, this narrator has fought, & fought, & fought, wielding my pen until the ink ran dry, attempting to awaken you all to the Great Deception of this pseudo-reality, & what do you most of you do?..you do nothing, other than accept it, & continue to comply. What else is there to say? Does it even matter? Nope, it doesn’t mean a thing, not a God-damned thing. Degenerate faggots are waving their shit-covered sodomite cocks in the faces of children, OF CHILDREN, at their sin-fest pride parades, & no one does a thing about it. Oh sure, there’s a fringe group of us that put out the messages, trying to raise awareness, denouncing what should be be denounced by all, but the sad truth is, that most of you do nothing. You don’t don’t seem to see/hear anything, other than what keeps you in a state of perpetual bliss. You just turn on your televisions, stay in your houses, consume consume consume, & then call that “life,” but people like yours truly are deemed the crazy ones, the ones who are out of line, we thought-criminals. When the bell finally tolls, & they come to wipe most of you out, rather than me getting the final “I told you so,” I’d rather trade it all just so that you people would wake the fuck up. You won’t though, the so-called “ruling elites” will fulfill their agenda, & everything you’ve all slaved so hard for, will be wiped away from their future history, like you never even existed.
I’ll be wiped away as well, of course, probably long before the end comes, because statistically, I should already be dead, like most of my friends. Just a matter of time, of borrowed time, before the final breath finally exhales, tainted with the sweet stench of my last smoke. I’ll leave a bill, a bill for a funeral & an urn, because a coffin is a waste of money. If you’re dead, who cares anyway? Throw me to a den full of necrophiliacs, or a pack of wolves, or into the ocean, chummed red with the blood of fresh fish, as frenzied sharks circle around & rip this lifeless body to pieces. Once you’re gone, you’re gone, & as it is in dreams, you have no recollection of even existing in this God-forsaken prison planet matrix, but my verbal epitaph, my final self-eulogy from yours truly to all of you is simply this: DO NOT GO INTO THE LIGHT. If any/all/none of you can somehow retain that little quip when it’s your respective turns, carry it with you, & abide it, because if you ignore what I say, & foolishly let yourself go into that bath-warm bliss, you will get recycled, & end up right back here in this 3d soul-trap, only to once again feed the beast via a tortured life of enslavement, which ultimately falls upon YOU, not the aforementioned Beast, the Great Recycler. Willfully going into the light, puts it all on YOU, & that’s the trap, that’s the trick from the Great Trickster, because by going into said light, by thine own accord, the Beast bears no guilt, & thus, bypasses God, & keeps the Great Mouse Trap full of souls, who do it again, & again, & again, until the end of time.
Or…maybe yours truly is absolutely insane, these thoughts are utterly delusional, & there’s no hope left for these fiery flying fingers. Either way, who cares? Your narrator here is only one, ONE soul, out of billions & billions of souls, all trapped, one way or another, within this inner/outer-dimensional 3d hell, way way wayyyyy down from whence we once were, leveled up in 5d, & maybe beyond that too. The 5th dimension is only the next bus stop, spatially, & then the 8th, then the 13th, possibly the 21st dimension, but beyond that is a kind of chaos that even a 13th-dimensional entity might now comprehend. This 3d human experience is as low as consciousness can possibly go, & if we were anything lower, we’d be the equivalent of a perfectly flat rock, with no volume, just flatness in flat world with no space to conceive of anything, anything at all. I bet none of you thought this article would take a sharp turn off the proverbial exit ramp into this town, did you? It’s as yours truly always says, we only turn the dial, left, right, a little more left, now back to the right again, until the static becomes the sacred geometry of a frequency that can be hooked, then bled it out, gutted, decapitated, filleted, & served up raw for all of you, & for none of you at all. “Just the way it is,” right?, as my favorite un-favorite saying goes. Maybe someone will write that pukeworthy defeatist expression on my tombstone, or the first nuclear bomb that drops when the depopulation agenda goes hot, & BOOM BOOM BOOM, the mushroom cloud spreads, radiating & eradicating everything with Chernobylian glory. Or maybe it was written on the needles they jabbed billions of you with already, as the nano-particles continue to self-replicate in your bodies, just waiting for the siren to sound so they can activate & complete their intended mission…then POOF…lights out, the door closes, & locks itself with one last slam as the walking dead rise.
Oh my, oh my, the time does fly, as do these salty stinking-sardined scissorhands, that slice this digital notebook into another saucy sautéed sashimi dish for you all to eat, or send back to the chef, so he can spit in it, & pretend he prepared it just as you asked it, only to be served right back to you, same as it was served before, as sacrosanct as a slow suicide. The restaurant is now closed, so pay your bill & get the fuck out. Until next time dear readers, never go to a restaurant right before they close, unless you want to eat a dish, garnished with spit. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🎏
“Be wary of closing time, before you order your food.” Fish F Fish🎏
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 