What a day to be alive on Planet Earth. How’s your world treating you? I’ve been wanting to do something artistic with this nostalgic piano jingle from my youth for years. Every Gen-Xer knows this jam. I don’t know about the other generations, but we TV babies from Generation X are savvy on so much programming from the 70s & 80s, that most of us forgot to leave room for deeper thoughts. Television is meant to keep you in a hypnotic low-vibrational state, & millions of us middle-aged Americans were right on the front lines from birth. Luckily, & with my own strength via my free will, I shook off the decades of brainwashing & programming that mass media broadcasts have been using to control us for so very long. Many are still…STILL…unable to break free, especially with all of the programs available on various sites, because they’ll always be able to find something to watch, to keep them preoccupied from the world around themselves. It’s all part of the mind virus pandemic across the globe. Nonetheless, I’m not going to rant in this one. I just wanted to shoutout to my digital friends & our online weekend fiesta courtesy of my buddy, Piano Matty B, & his number two, Kyle Mac, who play dueling pianos for the best livestream in the business. We go Friday to Friday, like days, because as you might be noticing, time is speeding up, so do what you gotta do while you can do it. The world, like time, is fleeting, & people croak everyday in so many random ways, ending their time here in this 3d prison planet matrix. I wanna find the exit to this labyrinth. I want to level up. I want to enjoy the beauty of all of it. I will, I do, & I know. Such beauty, contrasted with the proverbial evil of man, but I’m not gonna pull the trigger anymore than that today. It’s late. I walked 10.5 miles today. I completed my tasks. I am tired. It’s time for sleep. More to come Fishheads, so be sure to stay tuned, as well as like, subscribe, comment, & share, in whichever order you prefer. Be the tender of your own garden. Become your Higher Self. 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🎏
I’m going to assume that most of you have no idea what the title of this article means, but no worries, the FisH™ abides, as always. Just click the link here, on the word METANOIA, & you now have a new word to add to your lexicon. It essentially means a spiritual breakthrough, but like THE BREAKTHROUGH, breaking on through to the other side, literally. Coincidentally, this happened to your truly not so long ago. It’s too bad it took so long for me to find that word for myself, because if I had, I might have made some better choices. Unfortunately, I came up in the public school system indoctrination camp, in the Dirty South, no less. Yep, my lily-white ass had to ride the big banana bus, right through the black part of town. Those old school descendants of southern slaves, oh man, they stunk so bad. I think I have some repressed PTSD from those times, & I haven’t thought about it for a long, long time, until just now-ish. This keeps happening, more & more, & at this point, it seems like a life review in real-time, & that’s no exaggeration.
Visions, vivid visions of memories, going way back, exponentially becoming more prevalent by the day. No idea why it’s happening, but I’m glad it is, despite my dire financial life situation. I also have a bit of anxiety, over the fact that as I mentioned earlier, it feels like a life review, of sorts. Is this what happens before you take your last breath? Yikes…I guess we’ll all know shortly, won’t we? Oh dang, I must mention the dreams, these insanely lucid dreams, & when I get to get a bit of sleep, I go beyond astral traveling. I have no recollection of being here, or anywhere, for that matter; it’s as if I am somewhere else entirely, maybe even another planet and/or dimension, I don’t know. I know I love being there though, & I surmise that when we dream, we’re in a space that encompasses 3d, 4d, & 5d, all at the same time. It’s not full 5d, because you’re subject to time, but 4d time is distorted because of the influence of the 5th dimension. Ever had dreams that seemed to last for hours, even days sometimes, then wake up & realize only an hour or so has gone by? That’s the distortion I just illustrated, time still moves forward, but forward like a drunk driver, all over the place. Of course, we can’t forget 3d, because as I said, it’s 3d, 4d, AND 5d, all at once, like some bizarre backroom liminal space. You still have a body, somewhat, & there are still elements of this 3d world, as far as landscapes, & solid objects, but you cannot manifest said elements, at will, as you can in 5d.
These dreams, these visions, my personal metanoia, the Big Breakthrough, what can it all mean? It’s all so surreal; I wish I knew why, ya know? I DO KNOW, & I know that I know, but no matter how hard I try, I just can’t remember. As 5d immortal soul beings, we know everything; we know music, the highest math, we know it all, but when we descend down here to 3d, POOF, it’s all gone, & this life should be a life of remembering what you already know, but it isn’t for most of us, right? Nope, this world has been hijacked, hijacked by soulless devil-worshipping scum, & turned into a prison planet. The divide between the proverbial guards, & us inmates, grows grander by the minute. That’s right, inmates, we’re all inmates down here in the peasantry, & the so-called “ruling elites,” they’re the guards. There’s fewer of them, a lot fewer, & yet they rule, but why? I’ll tell you why…it’s because they keep us inmates divided, & fighting each other, rather than us fighting them. We could take them all down in a an hour, but how can we, if we can’t unite as one undivided unified force? Divide & conquer, & it’s nature, the psychology behind it, oh yes, I figured it out. Goes beyond the Hegelian phrase, & even though many people have heard of “divide & conquer,” have they really thought it out? Think about the teaching, the instructions given to said ruling elites, reading book after book, listening to mentor after mentor, giving them the esoteric knowledge of how to divide the populous in order to rule them. It’s one of their secrets, one that I’ve discovered, & as promised in countless prior posts, I am here to find the truth, THE REAL TRUTH, then expose it by publishing these articles, passionately illustrating these truths, for all of you.
I want us ALL to know, to remember, not just them. FUCK THEM. Jesus Christ, it’s as if that movie They Live is a documentary, not science fiction. Could it be true? Could reptilian shapeshifters make up these “ruling elites,” & maybe that’s another buried treasure trove of knowledge & information? I’ll have to speak more on that next time. Before I wrap this Foozer up, I’ll try my best to detail one of these dreams that I can recollect. Ready? Set? GO GO GO…
This one that I remember well, & try to ponder often, also haunts me in a way. Picture a beachside bungalow, one story, a white house with an angled roof, atop a cliff, that overlooks an ocean. Think of Washington State, the coast, or Oregon even, with those steep cliffs that overlook the Pacific Ocean, & this house, like I said, was white in color, with two pillars prior to the front door. What happens when we go though this door? I’ll tell you, I’m in there, with one or two other dudes. We’re all connected in a way, but there were these rules, these unusually odd rules in this house. I recall a couch, a bed, & a TV broadcasting some kind of colored static alien program. I would be in all 3, as the time passed, as the roles seemed to rotate. The TV guy, the couch stretcher, & the sleepy sleeper. I can somewhat remember going outside a few times, & having this feeling of novelty, as if I was in some outerworldly dimension. I’m sure I could spice it up into some kind of short film, which I just texted myself to do, as a reminder, but I digress, now where was I? Oh yes, in & out of this house, rotating positions, & as I said, there were rules. What rules?
Great question, thanks for asking. The rules were unspoken, yet known, known like a second language. There was no question, the rules were the rules, & for some reason, I was…unable, you could say, to break them, yet never gave breaking the rules a thought, not even once. Maybe it was more like…obligations. Yes, forget the word “rules,” & think of them as obligations. Obliged to who though, or what? I have no better word than “God,” at least a god. These obligations weren’t written on the wall, there wasn’t a telephone in site, or a computer, & certainly no internet, yet, as I said, I was obliged to abide them, & could care less about no phones or internet. There never is in any of my dreams, never the phone, never the internet, never any concept of money, lending much to my theory that this world is artificial, & no longer following the natural order. Regardless, there I was, with the other guys, inside this little white house, then outside this little White House, for days & days in my dream, but all within an hour or so of 4d time in this 3d Clownworld. I told you, time is distorted when you dream because you’re much closer to 5d, where you higher self exists, your TRUE self, not this mask-wearing ego 3d-self I exist as, when I’m in the waking world. That’s right, days & days went by in this dream, & consistently consisted of the rotation. I can’t remember what happened when I watched the multi-colored static TV. I seem to remember it was possibly instructing me, but about what, I cannot tell you, because I cannot remember. It sucks that we can’t remember dreams as they totally happened; we can only recall pieces at best, & nothing at worst. Let’s illustrate this rotation now, shall we?
Moving on to the bed, rotation one. I don’t think I slept while laying down onto this bed in my dream. Can you imagine, sleeping in a dream, like some kind of Inception, but no, no sleeping. I’m pretty sure it was a full size bed, pushed up against the wall. Oh shit, let me describe the main room this all happened in, so you can add more detail to the figurative picture I paint for you, as if I were the great Bob Ross, & you were one of my art students, so let’s paint said picture. Opening the door of the house, you come to a large living room, the wallpaper is gaudy, like those flowery wallpapers you might find in circa 1970’s London, & to the left, is the bed, perpendicular to that wallflowered wall. One white pillow, & a white comforter, but no sheets, & it’s just as I said, a white comforter & a white pillow. Temperature didn’t appear to matter, however, so sheets or blankets mattered not. A foot or so from the bed’s foot, there was a walkway. No door, just a walkway, a dark walkway, as dark as a moonless night in a middle-of-nowhere sort of darkness. I don’t remember anyone going through said walkway from this languid living room, nor anyone, or anything, coming from the dark side into the living room. It was ominous though, I knew that. On the floor against the opposing wall from the front door, sat the television. One of those older TVs, circa 1987 perhaps, broadcasting this watercolored swirling static with symbols I cannot recall, only that they were popping up now & again. There was most certainly an…an…annnnn…an alien, yes, an alien feel to it, for lack of a better descriptor. The floor of this living room, by the way, was old hardwood flooring. Real wood mind you, but old wood, & I would guess it would be analogous to a 50-60 year old house here in 3d space. That’s the left side, & an intro to the tv space, but what is happening on the right wall?
The right wall is identical to the left wall, except instead of a bed, there’s a couch to stretch out on, which, as I said, was part of the rotation. There’s also another mysterious walkway, with nothing but the darkest of dark, should one choose to walk on through that portal to the darkness. It’s directly across from the walkway across the way, just past the foot of the couch. I know, I know, how can a couch have a “foot,” right? Wrong, & the answer is quite simple; the answer is…is that it faces the television. I don’t know what’s through these walkways, however, & neither do the other guys in this wonky white house with me. Wait a second, just who are the other guys in this rotating game, you might be wondering, yes? After countless hours of trying to remember, I think they were…well they were me, me in three different manifestations, like triplets, all bound to the obligations of the rotation. It almost felt like a video game , & the whole dream, consisted of me, myself, & I, either on the couch, or on the bed, or sitting a foot away from the TV on the floor, watching this bizarre, water-colored static emanating from the television. What can it all mean? Regardless, it’s one of the dreams I can recall very well, so I thought I’d share it with you, because the FisH™ abides, & you know this.
UPDATE: Yours truly had a fresh dream, that went on for a day or two, in the dream, but in real-time, ohhhhhhhh…maybe 2 hours, give or take 10 minutes. As I mentioned earlier, dream “time,” which is the 4th dimension, is distorted, due to the fact that you’re between the 3rd, 4th, AND 5th dimension. Anyway, I had this dream; I was at a party in this dream, a party of maybe 20-30-40 people, & somehow I knew them, ALL of them, despite never ever never meeting them in the waking world. How can that be? Who are these people? Nonetheless, there was love all around, & I was maybe 20 years younger than I am now, dressed in board shorts, sandals, & nothing else, & my board shorts were a bit big for me, so I had to keep pulling them up because my ass, & occasionally my shwing-shwang, kept popping out. No one seemed to mind though for as I mentioned, it was all love at this party. Again, there were no cell phones, no internet, & had no recollection of being here in this world, as if I truly was in another dimension. Oh, I forgot to mention this, I was there, but not quite all-the-way there, which gave me a sense of feeling kind of…drunkish, you might say. I wasn’t drinking; I wasn’t even interested in getting drunk, but my equilibrium was way off. Lots of stumbles, lots of malfunctions while trying to grab things, yet my mind head was completely sober. I could think like normal, but getting these thoughts to come out was proving very difficult. Maybe it was the time distortion, I don’t know, but regardless, I kept stumble-walking around this surreal party. A couple of girls, younger girls, were trying to get me to do the hat trick with them. They were wearing jeans, & tight tank-top shirts, one blue, & one red, & they wanted the big D, from me, obviously, but unfortunately, I never followed through. I feel like I changed my mind & went to look for them, but they were nowhere to be found. Bummer. Who else was at this party?
Great question, thanks again for playing. Oh let’s see, there was a hodgepodge of white dudes, black dudes, a bunch of hot white girls, & maybe one or two black girls, & they were all drinking from a big punch bowl that never seemed to run out of whatever the beverage was that was in there. I don’t recall drinking any, but as I said, my body felt “drunk,” for lack of a better term. It felt more like the feeling you get when you go heroic with Xanax. Your mind still functions in a relatively normal manner, but your body, your body stumbles. Bumping into walls, dropping things, & not giving a fuck, yes, that’s Xanax for you bubblegummers out there who have never taken it, much less in a large dose. I know the feeling all too well, sadly, so if I had to equate my physical state, it would be more like Xanax, rather than booze. Now, if you ever mix the two, booze & Xanax, prepare to have your mind erased, & to wake up with zero recollection of what exactly happened when you were drunk & xanaxed up. It’s a terribly dark drug, pun intended, because that’s what happens when it wears off. You only see black, total darkness, when you try to remember what you did. I digress though, as always, now where was I?
Oh yes, the big party…everyone was drinking from the big punchbowl, people were laughing, joyous, truly having a good time. Perhaps I should have tried the mysterious punch, but I didn’t, I just kept walking/stumbling around, babbling to everyone I encountered, & as I mentioned, I knew them somehow, & knew them quite well, but had never met, nor ever seen, any of these people in real time. Also, I knew this house the party was happening in, as if it were my own house, but again, I had never been to this place here in 3d world, much less lived in it, this house I was in, yet somehow, I knew it. It felt like I was back home, kind of, as in when I went outside, there was a familiarity as if I were in the beachfront town I came from, but it wasn’t. Nope, it wasn’t back home; the scenery, if you will, was different, the roads, the businesses, the houses, all of it was different, yet strangely similar, as well as exceptionally familiar to me as well as everything else. I recall seeing the names of some of the businesses, but I can’t remember what the names on their respective marquees above their buildings said. Distortion distortion distortion. Oh damn, just had a vision, a vision from a dream I’d forgotten about, but since I literally just had this vision, POOF, it came back to me. Let me finish the party illustration, then I’ll come back to this vision I just had.
It’s not gonna take long, since I’m almost at the end of describing the punchbowl party dream. What else can I say, what did I miss? Let’s see…party party party, missed a threesome with 2 hot younger broads, didn’t try the punch from the punchbowl, was stumbling & bumping due to equilibrium failure, I knew everyone somehow, as well as the big party house, & there was an almost a tangible energy of pure love betwixt myself & the party goers. I remember walking out of the house, turning right at the end of the walkway up to the house, followed by a little walk to the west I assume, because it was a sunny afternoon, & the sun was setting behind my view of the buildings ahead of me. I remember a split in the walk way; think of a “Y,” & that’s how it appeared to me from my vantage point. There was a business at the crux of the “Y,” with a sign, but for the life of me, I can’t recall what the sign said, as well as the rest of these signs. When I try to remember, it all just looks like jumbled letters, along with symbols & numbers, on these signs. It wasn’t a foreign language, it was more like codes, of some kind, but I have no idea what they translate into. Who put these signs up in this town? How did I know everything so well? What is going on in my fish-eyed brain? Is a dream really just…a dream, or is it more than that? Maybe it’s less, what do you think?
I think it’s individually subjective, but who’s doing the subjecting? Gah, I know, I know that I know, I know I have the answers within me, but for some fucking reason, I cannot find said answers. It’s incredibly frustrating; it’s frustrating, it’s depressing, it’s heart-breaking, all the above, & I’ve never felt so alone in all my life, wayyyyyy out here on my island, way out, all the way out to the tightroped perimeter of sanity, & I think there might be no way back, not here in 3d Clownworld at least. Yep, it’s looking like my ship has unprecedentedly entered uncharted waters, waters filled with ghost sharks, ready to rip me apart, limb from limb, should I decide to abandon their proverbail ship & try to swim for the shore, the shore of silence, the shore of safe returns. It looks so peaceful on this figurative shore, but if you’re stuck on an island, with no ship, there’s nowhere to go. Can’t stay on an island forever, now can you?…but how long can one stay on a ship before finding a sanctuary on land? Here I am digressing again, & just to finish up the illustration of the party dream, I went walking toward the V part of the Y, to the point where the road splits, leaving me to go either left or right, if I were to keep going in this generally westerly direction. I didn’t, however, & once I got to the spilt, I took a hard right, going off-road, in order to circle around & go back to the party, which I did, as if I knew exactly where to go, cutting through yards, until I got to an alley, which led me right back to the house. Want to know what I saw when I got back?
Of course you do, & since the FisH™ abides, I’ll tell you. Upon returning to the party, there was a lot less people there, & these people were all new. None of them, not even ONE, were there before I went on my walkabout. I knew these newbies too though, somehow, & knew them well, just like the others. More walking, stumbling, socializing, basking in the glory of the love between all of us, with ZERO recollection of this world, even yours truly, who is typing this in my present, while you read it in my past. That’s right, two different yours trulys, with two different minds, in one strange brain, probably in one body. I cannot know until I look into a mirror in a dream. I’m saying “mirror,” over & over in my head, with the hope that the concept of said mirror, will imprint into my mind & create synapses so that I can maybe, just maybe, dream about it, if I sleep tonight of course. My sleep has been so fucked up lately. Dreams, that last notably longer whilst dreaming, as opposed to a couple of hours I sleep in real time here in 3d. The dreams, on top of my visions, might be helping me in some way I am missing. Obviously, my dumb ass has no clue how to find whatever I’ve lost, but yep, definitely missing something. The answers are within me, I know it, God damn it I know, I KNOW, but I also do NOT know. Nope, don’t know a God damned thing, much less the meaning of dreams and/or visions. Of course, I’ve been searching the interwebs, like a group of hound dogs chasing a deer, & it’s all over the place, which leads me to believe that no on has a clue what is happening with dreams/visions. If they did, wouldn’t they all be saying the same thing? The reason we have dreams, as well as visions, should definitely NOT be subjective. Come on now people, there’s an answer for why it happens, of course there is, doesn’t everything have an answer, per se? We haven’t found the answer to dreams, or visions, so a bunch of power-mad morons with a PhDeeznuts write books to give people interpretations, disguised as “answers.”
Holy tap-dancing Jesus, this has turned into quite a post, & I’m just gonna stop, & wrap this one up. I could keep going, & going, & going, but the human attention span stop sign got ran about 4 paragraphs ago. Until next time dear readers, chronicle your dreams, for they have to mean something, right? So sayeth FisH™…🎣
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🎣
“Chronicle your dreams; it’s the only way to remember them.” Fish F Fish🎣
Does it mean anything at all? Does numerology mean anything at all? Do numbers themselves mean anything at all without our human definitions being applied to a construct of said numbers.
Well would 1 + 1 still be 2, somewhere else in the Universe? Hmmmm….
Certainly one must admit that the numeric connections between this dimension are fascinating, and this matrix would seemingly be impossible to navigate without them. How would anything be built correctly? How would counting work? You have to count something everyday, not just money, what if you wanted to eat 3 hard-boiled eggs, and 4 slices of fresh feta cheese like I’m eating right now? It would not work without numbers.
So back to the topic…
As for this 11:11…
…one can go on the Internet, as I’m sure any of you reading this living in civilization would know by now, and find countless links to all sorts of characters offering viewpoints on why this particular number combination is special. You’re going to find a lot of information relating to the connection of 11:11 to your own consciousness awakening from the matrices of the ego zombies. You’re going to find information about how 11:11 connects to your eternal bond with your soul mates and your twin flame. Now you can watch these things until you pass out on your couch, as I usually do, and suck up all that new knowledge, which of course I recommend, but I also implore any of you reading this to find your own answers wishing as to 11:11 has related specifically to YOU, in YOUR life. Fuck whatever you read and think about what happened and/or what is happening if you happen to be one of the many discovering these strange recurrences of 11:11 imagery popping up all around you.
In my experience, in what has become almost cliche at this point, I started NOTICING it around me more when I snapped out of the slumber several years ago. I emphasized the word “noticing” because it was always there, but I am not sure if I began to “notice” it more once I had seen information about 11:11 or not. This was like 5 years ago when I really started rolling along with my own ascent from the proverbial Platonian cave, and I bombarded myself with so much information initially, I cannot recall if I was or was not aware of 11:11 before I started “noticing” it. Nonetheless, whether I knew or did not know already, I could never deny the fact, that I myself witnessed gratuitously by all of my 5 3rd dimensional senses this thing, and was seeing 11:11 everywhere, and I mean everywhere. Clocks of course, constantly, billboard signs I remember because i thought what are the odds of one highway billboard sign flashing an 11:11 byte, much less literally several, it was in utility bills, I mean it was like everything with a fucking number written on it was doing this to me, over and over and over again, which at that point, I am for sure prompted me to really look into this phenomenon, and that was initially when I can for sure say that I became very familiarized with these 11:11 sightings and what they may or may not mean.
The occurrences did fade though, there was definitely like a big crest and then a decline into a slow but steady “noticing” that it still pops up from time to time. Now was my brain just responding to the fact that I had stumbled upon that new information, and then making me “notice” it more? This might explain why I saw it quite prevalently, then not so much anymore, kind of like a new novelty, like a new pop culture novelty, comes and goes. A meme that caught on right as the new agers began to take greater strides perhaps?
Hmmmm…
…or maybe I found the info, which triggered a conscious reassurance that the “awakening” I was experiencing was in fact real, and these were numerical representations of the new synchronicity being formed with the expanding world around me. This idea may at first seem more implausible, but this reassurance is/was necessary particularly in the beginning, as many of you who have awoken and are in the process of fully awakening know, because that is the time when the battle between your ego and your soul really gets heated, more than ever before, and the initial reaction to the new energy makes you question whether or not you might be going insane. So the reassurance from 11:11 coincides with countless other synchronous moments that seem to start happening all around you once your 3rd eye snaps back open. These are to help you get past the struggle between your ego holding on while your soul takes back over. Speaking of synchronous moments…
This is one thing that has not leveled off in any way, in fact, this other phenomenon has been happening and continues to happen to me literally e-x-p-o-n-e-n-t-i-a-l-l-y more. Said phenomenon is synchronicity…
Yes there is absolutely no refuting that this is happening to me on a moment to moment basis at this point. I’m like 5 years deep into the heavy curve upward, and that curve has become a rocketship accelerating faster and faster straight up and out of the matrix. Connections with people, events, things you perceive on a daily basis with the 5 3d senses, it all begins to connect and flow together more and more and more and more. Picture if your awakening started as one little star. Then your star became 2 stars, then 4 stars, then 8, exponential, like I mentioned earlier, so imagine how many stars are lighting up the sky in my mind by now, and in YOUR mind too, especially if you are well into your journey out, and that’s the best part. Everyone is making these connections, but those waking up are making them faster, and you begin to feel this not only the connectivity between yourself and your world around you, you begin to connect with others who making accelerated connections, which only makes more connections. It’s a state of continuous fascination. There is a very viral aspect to it, but maybe that’s all we are, a virus…
And on that note, I just passed 1000 words so I am outta here until next time.
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 