Well that was fun, wasn’t it? Where I am, I could only see a partial eclipse from my hilltop Stonehenge, but it was a sizable partial, to say the least. I tried to film it but my camera that watches & listens to me every day apparently lacks the technology to film eclipses, so I could only see it via the special solar flare glasses, that just made some clever fellow millions of dollars. Just me, totally alone where I was, minus Source of course, who is always with me, especially under the ethereal sunshine. What energy…if one is tuned into the right frequency.
Regardless, it was quite a day. Lots of cosmic timing met at noon…the eclipse, a comet, AND…it was the new moon. Still haven’t seen the comet yet, but I’m going to tomorrow, weather permitting of course. Speaking of weather, I don’t know where you were, but the days leading up to the eclipse were insanely powerful. Had me thinking that maybe the Great North American Eclipse might actually be the start of something globally dynamic, but nope. As always, not only was it not very eventful, it was an exceptionally calm & normal day, for lack of a better term. Quiet, boring, just another jelly bean in the jar day. The proverbial mob is so fickle, so desperate for something…anything…that could be considered Divine. I was in the “nothing burger” category as far as the eclipse goes, due to my historical knowledge that these kinds of rare events always end in a noticeably uneventful day. However…
Yours truly DID have a surreal & mindfully meaningful day chocked full of self-realizations. Visions of a future, or futures, visions from my youth, visions all the time. This recurring dream continues into month 5 or 6…I cannot recall anymore when exactly it started, but it has changed my brain exponentially. I’m not sure if it’s this hemi-sync thing, but something in my mind is changing, evolving, ascending, becoming, remembering, like an exploding lock on Pandora’s box…BOOM…& out poured…well…everything I suppose. The flood gates opened & it all began to make sense. I try to recreate it in my art, hence why I’m so keen to create as much of my digital magic as I can, while I can. Time is fleeting, speeding up by the millisecond. My aforementioned self-realizations revolved around a real hard look at myself from outside of myself, & I need to get myself together. It’s odd, it’s such a dividing line between me, myself, & I. Not to mention all the other voices chiming in at random intervals. I thought about my place in this insane 3d matrix prison planet world. Where would I be in 20 years? 10 years? 5 years? 5 months? More importantly though, WHO will I be in the future?
Me…I’ll be me. I’ll always be me, but me needs to shake off these God-damned crab monkeys, always clinging to any back, weighing me down. I had roads, so many roads, so many ways to go, & of all these opportunistic roads, I took this one, the idiot savant path. The hard way. The perspectively regretful way. The unbelievably spiritual way though. Of all those other roads, would I have still landed as a spiritual billionaire? In the matrix, I’m a broken microchip, I’m broken, at least I often feel like I am, but inside the interzone of my consciousness, I’m my core being, a soul traveler, my true self, my higher self, without boundaries, eternally blissful in some higher dimension of unconditional love. Maybe Heaven. Maybe the 5th dimension. In this prison planet, you only get to speculate. Any real esoteric wisdom is hidden from the public. A whole other history, the real history, hidden from the public. There’s a great truth amongst the so-called elites that, as you guessed it, is hidden from the public. What are we? What are we really capable of? Why am one of me, & not one of them? I want to know it all…I want to know it all.
These dreams, this recurring dream rather, is another life in another dimension. I have no idea what to make of it & the interwebs are proving unhelpful as for finding information I can relate this experience to. There’s NO money there, NO internet there, NO electricity wires there. I can fly there, as if it was 2nd Nature, & there’s people & places I know, that do not exist here in this waking wonky world. I even have a different set of memories, so what the fuck is going on in my head? What is waiting for me, for us, on the other side? Sleep is so surreal. Is death just like sleep, except you don’t come back? What if this is a dream? In my dreams, it’s real, so what’s this? What’s that? GAHHHHH…why are we programmed & poisoned to be so unwillingly ignorant & distant from our true selves? What sort of giant octopus is running this show? Why so much destruction? I have so many questions, but no one ever answers. No whispers in my ear from a wishing well of Divinity, nothing. The synchronicity perhaps, the endlessly compounding synchronicity I experience, on a minute to minute basis, maybe that happens to remind me that there’s something amazing after this, & that maybe I’ll understand once it’s all done. Maybe Source IS whispering in my ears, & I just cannot hear for whatever reason. So many questions, so many questions.
On those notes, I will now conclude this rant. Stay galactic Fishheads. There’s a Universe inside of you, as vast as the one expanding outside of our respective souls. There’s so much we do not know, too much, or better yet, much we don’t remember. Learning is remembering, because souls are eternal, lots of time to level up, with endless random gifts from some dimension beyond this one. To be continued. Stay tuned mis amigos y amigas, there’s more to come. 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™…🎏
My latest creation for a band I’ve known since college, when they were another band named Art Lord & The Self-Portraits. They initially played house parties, & at a club called Peasants. Good times, such good times. What a trip college was, & although it was great in its own right, yours truly fucked off for a lot of it. Wasted years, wasted time, but sprinkled with a golden light, one that went out long ago & will never come back, not in this life anyway. What a shame. They shot off like rockets into stardom after changing their name to Future Islands, while most of the rest of us just ended up in respectively mundane existences, at least as far as my own perspective goes. Moral of the story: Do NOT waste your talents, especially on drugs & party-time. In the end, it adds up to nothing, except an eternal sense of unshakable regret. One could almost say it’s simply heartbreaking.
Nonetheless, those of us who are still here can create, & keep creating, because that’s really what it’s all about. Creating love, creating art, creating creative creations, whatever your bag is filled with, embrace it, because as long as you’re still breathing, you can still create. The root of this spiritual battle we’re all a part of, whether you acknowledge it or not, is to be virtuous, & to CREATE. Many are destroyers; many are ignorant destroyers, destroying without even realizing what they’re doing. The darkness is destruction, & the rising light of the Sun is creation. Creation versus destruction. Which side are you on? Anyway, enough of my rambling. As my readers might know, I can rant for page after page after page after page about anything & everything. Yes, this is a prison planet 3d matrix. Yes, we regular folks live in a different world than those who roost atop the proverbial power pyramid. Yes, we’re stuck here, & it seems there’s no way out other than to end it for one’s self. Unfortunately, & I may be wrong, I think that offing yourself is cheating, in a sense, leaving a lone soul one option, which is to do it all over again, under similar and/or possibly worse circumstances. If you’re in the water, you have to ride the wave, all the way to the shore. Otherwise, you have to paddle back out, again & again & again, until you finally flow with your own wave, all the way back to the Edenic beach we all hope for after this life is done.
Or maybe it’s all for not, & we exaggerate our own immortal existence in vain. I don’t think that’s the case, but it could be. I don’t believe in any sort of definitive “God,” but I DO believe we come from some kind of higher-dimensional entity, which I often refer to as “Source.” Evolution is bullshit, & here’s the singular reason why: If evolution were real, why do the creatures we supposedly evolved from, still exist? Why are crocodiles still around? Cockroaches? Creatures that have been the same for supposedly millions of years, are still around. What happened to their “evolution?” Much of what the human race has been programmed to believe, in my own opinion mind you, is just an abysmal quagmire of lies on top of lies, then sprinkled with more lies. It would be nice to know the real truth about modern human origins, wouldn’t it? Sadly, whatever that is, if known, is kept within circles that 99.9% of us are not granted access to. It’s exceptionally frustrating for someone like yours truly, who seeks truth in everything. The only thing I’ve come up with, is the notion I just mentioned, which is that the real truth, it’s kept from nearly all of us. There’s countless rabbit holes to dive down, many theories within the annals of the interwebs, but ultimately, there’s only ONE truth, ONE real reality, & we aren’t living in it.
We’re enslaved, enslaved to ourselves, enslaved to money, enslaved to self-ascribed “leaders” & so-called “elites,” WE ARE SLAVES. We’re slaves in a 3d matrix prison planet, & one of these days, my delusional optimistic self hopes for some kind of Divine intervention. Hey Source, where are you? Hey Source, why are we enslaved in such a manner? Hey Source, why is there so much chaotic destruction in this world? Hey Source, why are these globalist psychopaths herd us like cattle? Why is our enslavement allowed? Why? Maybe someday Source will answer me, or maybe I just don’t understand. I don’t know. It’s a surreal paradox, to get more confused as you expand your knowledge base. The more you know, the less you know, very paradoxical. Holy hell, I’ve done it again. Started with a few sentences, finished with an essay. That’s how I roll, as my readers/viewers know, & if this is the only light I have, it’s my responsibility to Source to keep going, keep creating, keep leveling up. This might just be a simple test, made to look like an unescapable labyrinth mouse trap, & the only way to free one’s self, is to accept the simplicity, catch your wave, & ride it back home to the 5th dimension. Or…or…it could all be in vain. Who knows? On that note, time to go my beloved Fishheads. I’ll post the lyrics for the video above below. More to come, stay tuned. The FisH™abides…🎏
Future Islands: Before the Bridge
I will walk you home and I will leave you there I’ll take the books you stole And leave the heart that bared this soul
I hope you have what you need (I hope the moon is listening) I hope you have what you need (I gave my soul, my body)
I hope you have what you need (I hope the moon is listening) I hope you have what you need (I gave you soul and body)
And if things hadn’t changed I would have buried you deep in my arms And if things had stayed the same I would have carried you as far as the stars
Whatever has us know I can’t forget somehow For to forget a love is to regret And what is love is regret And what isn’t love is a test
And if things hadn’t changed I would have buried you deep in my arms And if things had stayed the same I would have carried you as far as the stars
Do you believe in love? Do you believe in love? Hold your tongue Hold your tongue
Whatever has us now I can’t forget somehow For to forget a love is to regret
Written by: William Cashion, John Gerrit Welmers, Samuel Thompson Herring
I can’t properly illustrate what it’s like to watch my imagination in real time in such a manner. AI, when used as a tool, can be incredible. Unfortunately, the elitist globalist scum at the top of the proverbial power pyramid have other ideas. They want to destroy, to feed the darkness, not to create, & illuminate the true Divine light. What a world, what a 3d matrix prison planet world. The only thing left to save us all is some sort of outer-dimensional reckoning. The odds of that are astronomical, but like all miracles, occasionally something from another realm comes along to enlighten the souls of those who have true self-awareness. I could go on & on & on, but for now, I’m gonna wrap it up. Stay tuned my beloved Fishheads. Much more to come. The hours come, the hours go. Lyrics below. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
Metronomy: She Wants
She sleeps so soft So soft I tread Arranging papers Around the bed
And if she’s dreaming deep tonight I’ll lie with her by reading light A glass of water by her side And gone are hopes of getting tired
I call the shots ‘Til you wake up Count every second On every clock It’s getting late Yeah, that I know The hours come The hours go
Them twitching legs And twitching arms And there you’re lying Your make-up on
And girl, if you’re dreaming deep tonight I’ll lie with you by reading light A glass of water by your side And gone are hopes of getting tired
I call the shots ‘Til you wake up Count every second On every clock It’s getting late Yeah, that I know The hours come The hours come
In case you somehow live without a cell phone, you were spared the “national emergency alert test” that blasted everyone yesterday at around 2:15 EST. Oddly enough, Russia did did a similar test today. Now are these really “tests,” as they’re telling us? Who knows? I was reading comments all day afterward & my oh my, it’s almost as if most people WANT there to be a national emergency. Falling right in line, as usual. I’d wager that a “national emergency” would prolong this power apparatus that these globalist communist psychopaths have built for themselves & their so-called “noble” families. I can go on & on, as I usually do, but nope, not tonight, just cutting it short, like a foreskin at a bris. Stay mindful. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
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™…🎏
If any of you believe that these idiots in the article linked above are real “white supremacists,” you probably also believed that the fake vaccine would help you prevent Covaids. This is the biggest bunch of bullshit since “Patriot Front,” another fed-ran group created to cause a stir among the populous against a non-existent “white supremacy.” The fake news channels have worked feverishly to promote a national crisis against the legions of “white supremacist Nazi bigot racist man-splainers,” & their respective “white privilege” cards. None of those ridiculous fantasies actually exist of course, not at all, but here in Clownworld, all you have to do is pretend that things are real, & just like magic, they’re real, especially to a society that’s so fickle & easily led by fear, which as a universal notion, is really mass psychosis. I’ve mentioned this before; the term I like to use is hypno-psychosis, because, in this “modern age,” people are led to their psychoses by whatever is broadcast through their televisions via programming, to generate a state of alpha-wave hypnosis. Then, they go about their day believing what they’ve been programmed, i.e…hypnotized, to believe, existing in a bubble of conformation bias through your friends t the proverbial water cooler, & your social media, where groups of the same tribe digitally conglomerate & exaggerate the fear en masse, making it into a mass psychosis, a mass formation psychosis to be more technically precise. Everyone understand? Get it? Got it? Wunderbar.
Now, I’m no psychologist, no psychiatrist, no “ist” at all. My degree is a BA in bullshit, & I have a faux master’s that only exists on my forever-rejected resume. No skill set whatsoever, other than this drivel that I write, so by no means should you listen to and/or believe anything I say. I’m mostly just an observer, probably because I’m too retarded to do anything really useful. I’m what parents warn their kids about becoming, as far as wasting one’s life, & I feel bad when I see a little fat kid, with an immature face, just dumbed-down as it gets from having a poor home life. I rarely see a dad around little fatty, at least at the grocery store, which is the extent of “going out in public” for me, the most I bother to do anymore anyway. That poor little chubchub is already off to a terrible start, bred by idiots who should’ve needed documentation to reproduce. I see this EVERY TIME I am at the grocery store, the figurative fat kid, & it’s not only sad, it’s hart-breaking that they’ll never really get a chance. Their pisspoor parents failed them already, & there’s little hope they’ll become what they dream about becoming. Fucked at birth; this mantra haunts me, particularly when I try to comprehend the current state of this waning forsaken humanity, but, humanity lost me along ago, or maybe I lost it, I don’t even know anymore. Something went askew…way askew, & never came back into parallelity again. Yes, I made up that word just know, like when two sides of the road run parallel in opposite directions, but apply it to one’s path in life…”parallelity.” I DO have a BA in English, & my thought has always been that if a word you use is grammatically feasible & correct, who’s to say whether or not it’s a word? I don’t recall electing some “officials” to determine which words can be deemed as words, & which can’t, do you? No, you don’t because WE didn’t; none of us did, but again, we are supposed to abide these rules, & no one even knows the game, much less the rules.
Nonetheless, just to segue back to the title of this article, & speaking about games, the FED is playing quite a game with their undercover white supreme pizza agents, especially with this new gang, who ride or die for the moniker “Blood Tribe,” which might be the corniest name for a gang ever created. Seriously, at the very least it makes the top 3. They’re so bad at this, these moronic FEDs, they’re so God-damned horrible at what they do, that they do shit like this, assuming the general populous is as clueless as they are, when in fact, in…fact, more people than one might think are waking up from the Platonian Cave illusion, more each day, all asking, “Who the fuck is that guy behind the curtain orchestrating all this chaos?” If it ever comes to the day when the so-called “ruling elites” feel that we, the peasantry, will overtake them, they will engage one of many contingency plans to ensure their own survival. They have a plan for everything; if. there’s a nuclear war, there are bunkers for the global elites, but not for us peasants mind you; if a real global pandemic that kills millions breaks out, again, they have bunkers, as well as the cures for any diseases, they just don’t tell us that they have the cure for everything, so again we the peasants lose. Perhaps a micro-nova from the Sun erupts, one that shifts the poles, as well as creates massive lightning bolts that transform the ground(Electric Universe), & wipes out 85-90% of us, & they know when it will happen, but they won’t tell us, because once again, they’ ll be safe in their bunkers. They don’t care about us or our issues, & it’s an unforgiving squared off slab of concrete for those who have no family, no friends, no job, no money, no home, no bed to sleep on, no life, like reading off the roll-call for a degenerate seven dwarves, but if you hit all seven of those of those unfortunate situations, there’s seemingly no hope left, is there?NO…HOPE…LEFT, & being in this dire 7 dismal position, if/when the dreaded end comes, whether or not the end comes via war, pandemic, market crash, whatever ending comes for us all, fuck-offs like yours truly will be absolutely expendable. “Collateral damage,” is what we will be described as after the government comes to Fortunately, like a cockroach, somehow I feel like I’ll survive. Anyway, I’m wrapping this one up a bit abruptly. Until next time dear readers, my black ass is tired, so when you’re black ass is tired too, it’s time to hit the floor-bed. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
The title says it all…”Sweet Sleep,” & what is sweeter than sleep? A reprieve, albeit a brief one, but a reprieve nonetheless from this awful wicked 3d prison planet world, only to wake up heartbroken again to be seemingly trapped here, trapped in this body, in this place, in The Great Mouse Trap. This upside-down backwards timeline has a course that pinnacles with a societal critical mass of unprecedented magnitude, so is that why we’re here, to bear witness & obviously survive said critical mass? Is the whole point of this wretched existence going to peak when we all experience the imminent proverbial pot of water boiling over? Humans can only be pushed so far one way, before they essentially beg to be pushed another, because singular individual thought rarely sounds the horn, so to speak. When it does though, revolutions happen. Of course, sweet sleep will be a thing of the past if/when true global turmoil becomes the “normal” day in the not-so-distant future. No more sweet sleep until The Great Sleep. Until next time dear readers, embrace sleep, the sweet sleep, for it is the only freedom you have. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
Ha, I got a few Reddit reviews, which is surprising considering how dark some of the Reddit threads are, but nonetheless, some readers were…I don’t know, compelled yet afraid maybe? I don’t consider a single word I write to hold any significance, being “dark” or otherwise. When I read the way the real warriors of the pen wrote, it has some kind of magical quality to it, like it’s beyond space & time, which technically, it is, as some of those book have been read for hundreds of years. Marcus Aurelius wrote his Meditations circa 2000 years ago, & people STILL abide the notions he presented. There’s something so dynamic about writing something like that, & although my ego can easily dupe myself into believing I could spit out one, just ONE good book, that had some kind of meaning within it that others can relate to. It is too late though, & no matter how hard I try, & keep writing these articles daily, I just am not seeing it. Mostly the view escapes me because of the waves crashing into me, one after another, caught in an infinite undertow, or flushed down a toilet, in the same manner any book I write would be treated. Flushed away, just like a toilet.
I think I’m going to go for a walk on my next day off. I have to do a little research of course, but I’d like to go walk down the same streets that Kerouac walked on when he was here…like 80ish years ago maybe, something like that. I don’t like Jack for being a degenerate drunk, but considering my own afflictions, who am I to judge anyone based on their own self-destruction? He went fucking hard too, & he knew it was going to kill him, which it did, around the same age I am now. Yes, but he hit it hard & hit it early, harder than myself, earlier that you, he boarded that train & said “LET’S FUCKIN’ GO!” Some of us get on the train & never stop, fire it up, get those boilers cooking,push it, going faster & faster, further away from everything you thought you knew, until WHAM, BAM, SMASH, CRASH, your train goes off the rails, & it doesn’t come back, ending in a massive pileup of chaos & destruction. Some of us ride a slower train, just riding for the ride perhaps, stopping at each town between here & there, no destination really though. A billion of you it seems just watch trains come, then watch the trains go, never boarding the trains, but mere spectators, billions of you.
A walk would be nice, Divine even, the hot Colorado Sun, a mile closer to everyone’s faces that are at sea level. The air is different up here, cleaner, even in the city, among the growing populations of tent communities, junkies, drug whores, thieves, destroyers, & any/all other ilk that contributes to these cities of squalor, yes somehow the air is cleaner. Honestly, this going broke madness has become a game of survival, & the upper class is successfully starving out everyone who is not in their special club. It’s beyond rough out here, it’s becoming like some pre-Mad Max wasteland of degeneracy. People don’t escape from these situations, nothing better ever comes along for those down in the trenches, & the divide is arguably getting exponentially greater by the minute, the gap, between them, & us. I don’t know though, maybe I talk to much about the truth. I’ve been AI-assist banished from the digital town square, which somehow has made me into a virtual ghost. Maybe I’m dead, & I just don’t it? Nah, I just asked the AI again, & it said “no,” so I suppose am still alive, because the AI would never lie to me, would it? I don’t know how many of you realize how dangerous the AI truly is. Maybe you do, I don’t know, but I can speculate based on these cross-section interviews, live from Clownworld, where average people have no idea what inflation is, or what we celebrate July 4th for, or a range of various other incredibly simple questions that as you’ll see, just fly right by the hamster on the wheel that moves them around from place to place. I try to imagine their home-lives, what’s it like when dunce comes home from work to another dunce, & dunce & dunce eventually make a baby dunce, then it’s a whole circle of base-level duncery, just an incredibly fugly nation, full of horror & abject mental impoverishmen, as well as physical impoverishment. A once-great nation, now just poverty. I’ll leave a whole playlist below for you via the great Mark Dice. Roll the clip Mr. Producer…
The cancer that arguably started in this country, began in California. The cancer quickly spread, went from seemingly benign & isolated, to wide-spread & malignant, & NOW, has become terminal. Radiation directly blasted out from the Sun is the only way to cure it, but unfortunately, that much radiation will most likely kill the figurative cancerpatients. At the very least, it would reduce the human population drastically, & the scant few survivors would have to start all over again in the aftermath. Suppose the so-called “ruling elites” already know this. Suppose they’ve enslaved us to keep providing more wealth & power for themselves, only to leave us to a known cyclic micro-nova that radiates the planet, causing the poles to shift. Suppose thy just want to merge with AI, as I’ve already said, & when they do, they’ll unleash some kind of real pandemic, to wipe people out & create mass panic, all at the same time. It doesn’t matter which future speculation you can come up with, they all seem to end with the most powerful people on the planet completely branching away from humanity entirely, to live amongst themselves, in heavily guarded & gated regions. Meanwhile, the rest of us will be fighting & killing & battling our way to various outposts, the ones of us that survive the Great Pandemic, of course.
I hate these things I see, believe me I do, & doesn’t everyone want the world to be a fun ride, & great planet to do a life on, surely we all want that, right? Unfortunately, if it ever is again, it will not be for generations, & considering the damage done to all of us already, I’m not sure humanity will ever fully recover. It’s sad, it’s a sad & sinister scenario that the power-elites have stuck all of us into. They are instructed from birth, in these top-of-the-power-pyramid dynastic families, they are taught from day one that they belong to a different class, a “higher” class, & what that they do will carry on through the ages. They receive instructions on subjects that would never come up in the real world, especially within the public school system. They live these lives of yachts, & trips all over the world every week, & parties in rooftop mansions in Manhattan. It’s just an entirely different world, for me it is anyway. I’ve been in a few mansions in my vagabond life, & it’s just mind-blowing when you think about the fact that a super-wealthy family lives there, & does family shit there, & cooks dinners there, ones where affording all of the ingredients doesn’t matter. It’s almost dream-like, just being in one of those places, because as soon as you leave, & walk out the front door, you realize you’ll never go back there, ever, & then the real world comes back, & your energy has to get back to that, rather than that fleeting moment of some kind of freedom you feel in the halls of a mansion.
I don’t know what I’m even rambling about. I’m exhausted, the lamplight, the bugs, my dented up car from fuckwads in ghetto parking lots who hit cars then leave. Just because I live in the ghetto, doesn’t mean you gotta fuck up my car so it blends in with the other trashy cars in the neighborhood. Both sides, in 2 days, fucking ridiculous. Yes, my car is a piece of shit, but it’s my piece of shit, & it’s all I have to get me around. Speaking of which, feel free to donate to my GoFundMe Fishheads. I’m doing my best, & it’s overwhelming, but I keep going because what else am I gonna do, know what I mean? Here’s the link for the GoFundMe “Starting Over” fundraiser telethon bonanza spectacular. Just joking, t’s not nearly that cool, but it is a fundraiser for yours truly nonetheless. Until next time dear readers, if you can, throw some money my way wit the link below. I’m running on nothing until I get my first paycheck at this job. Life has never been this relentlessly unforgiving it seems. I don’t know, nope, I don’t know, & I have humbled myself lately, by experiencing the self-realization that I am not nearly as smart as people think I am. I don’t even know why they think I am; I am a total dumbass, with no real skillset other than properly composing words into well-structured paragraphs, which the AI can now do in seconds, way to go scientists, but I digress. No, no I’m not a smart guy. Smart ass maybe, which serves me in no way, & it’s a good thing I had to learn the hard way. Oh yes, always the hard way, the never-ending hoisting of the Sisiphusian boulder up the mountain, only to have it roll back down on top of you every morning. That fucking boulder never stays, never will stay, but for some, it does, & not only does it stay atop the mountain, they barely had to push it at all to get it to the mountaintop, & to find golden glory, & a life to be remembered. It’s all so much bigger than these little liminal lives most of us lead. Or, maybe it isn’t. 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™ 🎏