Party Talk: Alpha Version 👄🎣

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Transmission 🗼🎣 #AiArt

Killing an Arab 👳🏾🔫✋🏻😎🎣 #AiArt

Before the Bridge 🌉 🎣 #aiart

Quantum AI

My Drugs

Important words for an addict, “My drugs,” because that’s numero uno when you’re a junkie, your drugs. Where are my drugs, how much of my drugs are left, how soon will I need to call my dealer, when can I make a run?…these are the only things that matter, when you’re an addict, especially if you’re on the needle. If you’re on the needle, you’re done. Done. Period. With all this fetty floating around, it’s just a matter of time. Barely anyone gets out alive already, ESPECIALLY once they’re on the needle. It’s a dark world, as self-centered as it gets, because all that matters, is my drugs.

You grab your spoon, your crusty spoon, so much dope has been on that spoon, dope, & hope, all gone. Waiting sucks, so you give it a little heat, just a touch, & swirl it around, then drop your cotton, maybe a new one, maybe a used one, doesn’t matter. Might be some residue on an old one, so let’s use that one, yeah. Now a fresh spike, oh no, it’s my last one, but it’s a freshie, so no worries. Pop it, stick it, pull her up, the gun is now loaded. Where will you hit?…gotta make sure the gun is in your mouth before you pull the trigger, look at all those places where veins used to be, damn, all shot to hell, fuck, look around, looking, oh there’s one, one little spot, got it. Stabby time, & stick, it’s in, just pull up some blood to make sure I didn’t go to far, oh yes, clean shot, looks good, looks good, & plunge away. There she is. Hey girl…mmmmmmm. Hey there sweet girl. Back in our room, aren’t we girl? Just you & I. Oh wow, the room is getting smaller, like a vignette, there’s that weird taste in my mouth, oh but the vignette is closing, yes, the room getting smaller, & smaller, eyes are closing, show is over, last thoughts, as the vignette closes down to a pin, one little pin of light, one eye barely still open, stay awake maybe?…what did you say?…shhhhh…then just let go. Let go. Bye. Your body pukes out foam, trying to stay alive, but nope, you shot too much, & there’s no Narcan, or anyone around to save you anyway, & you die, alone. That’s the end, the end of your movie, & someone will find you, or rather, your body, all rotting & stinking of gruesome death.

.This ain’t gonna be no PSA for “just saying no,” or some corny nonsense like that, nope. Just illustrating the world of the dope fiend, & what comes first. I’ve seen moms do dope with their kids in the car seat. It takes away everything you have, everyone you love, everything, dope takes it all, once you’re on the needle. I lived that world for a long time, much too long. Dark days…I’m amazed I’m still here, to be honest. Feels like I’m the only one left, & they all went the same way, impaled by the spike. The worst thing you lose, is your will to appreciate life, & particularly, time. Nope, just waste away, slow suicide, until one day you’re shooting ½ gram bags at once, just to get through a shift at work. It’s insane how dark this world can become. Wanna see? Here’s a video from Kensington, a neighborhood in Philadelphia, where it literally looks like a scene from The Walking Dead. Check it out.

Not good, is it? This is some new drug called “Tranq,” & I’m not very familiar with it, nor am I interested in doing the zombie walk, sheesh, look at these people. Does this look like “life” to you? Does it look like these people are “living?” Fuck no, & it just keeps getting worse & worse & worse. There’s thousands of these videos, it’s absolutely shameful. People lose hope though, when situations go south, & they have no money, & “life,” just seems impossible, BOOM, enter the drugs, & WHAM, you’re addicted, just like that. Over time, it grows, like a little troll in your gut, stabbing at your stomach when he needs his medicine, & the more time goes by, the harder he stabs, the deeper the knife plunges into the walls of your guts, & he yells, “FEED ME!” You get anxious, then you sweat, then your stomach goes berserk, then it’s hell, the hell of kicking dope. A hell that I reserve to wish only upon my worst enemies. One hell week, then you’re free. It seems like an eternity though, for some reason.

Yeah, it’s rough, particularly off the needle, which is why so many people die. They try to kick, they try hard, they fight, nothing works though to make the cramps stop, to make the pain stop, to make the manic mind stop. Nope, there’s nothing…except dope, of course, so then they go score, because the pain is unbearably rough, & they shoot a big shot because oh that pain, it’s so bad, & because they haven’t used for a bit, their tolerance is lower, & POOF, lights out. That’s it. Done. Out. Gone. Bye. You’re no longer among the living, & everyone who’s left has to clean up the mess you leave. Foam coming out of your mouth, piss & shit on your crotch area, maybe running down your legs, cold, blue, stiffened up, just a body, as the soul has departed, & that’s the end of that person’s story, just like that. Everything they did in this life, from being born to growing up & going to school & making lifelong friends & relationships & learning your individually respective talents, & then to leaving home, & going to college maybe, & then you graduate & because college is a total waste of time for most people, you bee-bop around until you find a job, whatever. Can’t speculate generally on lives after college, because everyone goes in a million different directions when that time comes. Some find a “career,” & go on to get married, & have some kids, & get divorced, & all that made-for-television kind of life. Some go other ways, & maybe they take risks, they gamble on life, & that’s their life, just rolling with the flow. Some stay golden, & they live in the neighborhoods with the big houses, & pools, & they’re virtuous, despite their wealth. I suppose they just got a better ticket for the ride, but all-in-all, you get the point, right? Everyone goes different ways, but some, more-so than ever, go the way of addiction. Doesn’t matter what you do, or where you come from, there’s been an addict from every socio-eco-demographic you can think of. It’s a monster, a virus, a disease, a cancer, all of it in one really, & once you’re infected, it’s for life, unfortunately. Such is the way of my drugs. Do you get it yet? When you’re on the sauce, the sauce is boss. Good quote. I’m gonna have to add it to my book, The Great Quote Hunt, but I digress, as usual. Where was I? Oh yes, there is nothing else but getting well, as they say, once that needle is in your arm. If you’re not banging away, there’s still hope for you, but like I said, in the beginning, if the needle bag is open, your life is about to close up for the night, the darkest night of your life.

Oh but look at the time; I just heard the attention span alert go off. That must mean it’s once again time to wrap up yet another article composed by yours truly. There were good times, & hell, there were GREAT times with the drugs, but in the end, the dope casino wins & you walk out with nothing left but your socks, sometimes not even those. Not to mention, there are serious long-term effects, mental AND physical, as the human body isn’t built to exist in such a way. Self-care is important, but self-medicating to dull your wounds is no bueno. It doesn’t last, it never lasts, ever, & sadly, every junkie always gets to that moment when the drugs are almost gone, down to maybe a hit left, then gone, nothing, & you tell yourself, “I got this, I can beat it; just need a few days of detox, & I’m good to go.” Ummmmmmm…that’s a hard “NO,” NO NO NO…that NEVER works, ever, so maybe the best bet for all of you reading this, is to just never do drugs. 99 out of 100 lose the war, so do you honestly believe that you would be the one to get out completely? Ah, the junkie mind, the priorities so out of whack, & all that matters, is that phrase, “getting well.” Until next time dear readers, rewind the tape & peep my last few posts prior to this one. Get your respective selves all caught up. I could keep going, I could always keep going, write-write-writing about life, but I have a book to work on, so I can’t spend all my time on these random thought-articles I post, nor the Foozers, not until my book is done. Like I said, there’s PLENTY to go backwards in time on to find some enlightenments here in my opus of sorts. Find the “SEARCH” query, type in anything, ANYTHING, & a few fish will always bite. Over 6000 pages here…oh yes, that’s right, you heard me, SIX-THOUSAND PAGES of my madness, transcribed for all of you of course, & for none of you at all. That is the way, & I abide the truth. So sayeth FisH™…🎏

The Fooze: S7E30 7/30/2023 The Feds Did It

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Back Behind the Bar

Yet Another Dream

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:

👉🏻Am I Dead?

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™🎏

The Fooze: S7E10 7/10/2023 The Cocaine House

Yes, of course I’ve seen the latest news about cocaine found in the White House, & of course, we all know who’s it was. There’s footage of Hunter Biden right after the supposed discovery looking jacked as fuck, all bug-eyed & jerky, wiping his nose no less, reinforces all fingers pointing at his dumb ass as the culprit. Not to mention, right before the discovery, they released footage of that degenerate piece of shit driving 180 MPH to Vegas while showcasing his crack pipe. Just to be clear, there’s a definite distinction between crack & cocaine. It’s analogous to cane sugar & high fructose corn syrup, in that crack is the ultra-concentrated form of cocaine, as high fructose corn syrup is the ultra-concentrated form of sugar. Both are highly addictive as well, hence all the obesity in this “body positive” God-forsaken country of ours, but I digress, as this article is intended to be about the crackhead in the White House, not the fat people in this country. Yes, it’s quite a story, & quite a distraction, considering that since the news has centered in on this cocaine story, Hunter’s puppet-potato dad, Joe Biden, the frontman for the puppet master Barack Obama, sent cluster bombs to Ukraine, adding more fuel to the fire of World War 3, bringing us one step closer to a nuclear hot war with Russia. This is what the so-called “ruling elites” want, of course, global war, because they know they’ll be okay, while millions, maybe even billions, of people get vaporized as collateral damage if said World War 3 was to break out. Theatre, theatre, theatre, only with real-life consequences…for us, not them.

It’s just a matter of time at this point, as a global war could pop off today, tomorrow, next week, next month, but know this, there’s an exceptionally high probability that it’s going to happen, & right before election time too, what a coincidence, so this rogue government could utilize “emergency powers” to stall the next sham s-election in order to retain their power. Do you really think these soulless power-hungry scum are going to relinquish their stolen power when the next s-election comes? Of course not, but sadly, so many still believe that their vote counts for something. NEWSFLASH: IT DOESN’T. Nope, voting is as useless as the diapers Joe Biden wears, & the next round coming in 2024, will be utterly meaningless. They will install whoever they want, & for those of you on Team MAGA, naively betting that Trump is going to come back & save the world from this Deep State cancer, you might want to rethink the risk of putting all of your eggs into one orange basket. If something happens to OrangeManBad, the demoralization of half the country will be unprecedented, & the hopelessness that follows, will make you all much easier to control, which again, is what the powers-that-be want…total & absolute control. What better way than to remove their hero from the equation, know what I mean?

I’m not as dumb as I look though; I know full-well how shadowbanned I am, as well as how most people think I’m a raving madman for writing/saying the things I do, & since crazy people do not know they’re crazy, but I have self-awareness of my mental capacities, I know I’m not a mental patient, & thus, just have to sit back & watch with my proverbial popcorn as the things I know are coming come. It’s heart-breaking, more than any of you can possibly know, to watch this once great country die on the vine like the grapes in the vineyard of a dead vineyard keeper. It truly is, & I wish I could do something, I wish I could do a lot of things, but being a thought-criminal as well as a sane person in an insane world, has isolated me so far out onto an island unto myself, that no one will ever heed my words, nor abide my inclinations & forewarnings. Now, for the final paragraph, I will let these fingers fly as they may, as I take the exit ramp from the fake news highway, & let my stream of consciousness do its thing, as it does. It’s as much as the turn of a dial, finding a station, & drawing water from the well, from the ether, or perhaps as Plato stated, from the realm of pure forms.

I’m currently in a state of flux, on the road, in the middle of the country for a pit stop, in a lovely little town in Ohio. It couldn’t be more apple pie Americana here, American flags blowing in the breeze, nice suburban homes, well-to-do American families doing the things that they do in their small town. Not much crime, not much of anything dark, just people doing their best to live without the chaos of the world encroaching on their respective little bubbles. I take my walks, I notice everything, I admire the beauty, the trees gently blowing in the breeze, the lovely homes these families have built for themselves, & it makes me smile, albeit only for a fleeting moment, before I integrate the future terror that might befall the world if a hot nuclear war were to commence. I cringe inside, having the visualizations that I do, but nonetheless I do, I have them, terrible illustrations, picturing all of this real-life Norman Rockwell sublimity, destroyed in a mega-mushroom cloud, with the ensuing fallout blanketing the town, & the surrounding area. I think of the show The Walking Dead, & picture radiated humans, aimlessly zombie-walking around, with their minds gone, only shells of their former selves. I see the houses in a state of ruin, the streets covered in rubble, the wrecked cars, the corpses, the stores all looted & burned out, from the few lone survivors. Like I said, I don’t want to, but I do, I see the heart of this once-great nation torn into two, decaying lifelessly like a raw steak in the sun. It’s a sad way to see things, & although I’m quite aware that grimly picturing a dystopian post-apocalyptic hellsacape is a waste of thoughts & energy, my mind cannot help itself, considering what the pragmatist in me foresees coming. Oh this mind of mine, woe to this mind of mine.

No, one cannot exist in a future yet to come, nor dwell in a past that will never come again. It’s a redundant exercise of futility, but at least I have that self-awareness to self-realize what I’m doing, so it doesn’t overtake my daily reminder to always live in the present. The present, that ticks away second by second, that comes & goes so fast, so damn fast, is the only moment one can know is truly real. Many of us are stuck in our pasts or our futures, particularly the former, but many of us are not. It’s all just so chaotic, for life itself is a journey through chaos, is it not? One can only hope that The Great Creator will bring Divine order back to this 3d waking world of mass psychosis, because the state of the zeitgeist in the present, is sadly more disordered then it’s ever been. It all seems backwards, upside-down, a world where the malevolent reign, & the benevolent are unprecedentedly suppressed & ostracized, even as far as being exiled, as is yours truly. Yep, your narrator here is digitally exiled from the town square, as well as banished from the matrix prison planet, like a forgotten ghost of someone that no one ever knew. Statistically, I shouldn’t even be here; I should be as dead as many of my friends, who are now just tombstones. It’s as overwhelming as a mile-high tidal wave, & as I mentioned earlier, I’m on an island unto myself, in the middle of a vast ocean, with nothing but those towering tidal waves to watch, pounding on the sky-high vertical cliffs surrounding my cave of solitude. A permanent state of social isolation, like the mighty Zarathustra, & I wonder if I’ll ever go back down, as he did, after his alone-time with only himself & The breath of The Great Creator ended. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t, but for now, it’s time to go, so until next time dear readers, appreciate the wine from the vine while you can, before the grapes in the vineyard fall to the ground to the hungry worms. So sayeth FisH™…🎏

For all of you, & for none of you at all…🎏

One cannot exist in a future yet to come, nor dwell in a past that will never come again.” Fish F Fish🎏

“Oh this mind of mine, woe to this mind of mine.” Fish F Fish🎏