I already am well-aware that we are jumping timelines. I don’t know if it’s collectively, or on some kind of randomized individually respective basis, but Bob Barker died years ago, yet the Fake News is reporting he just died a few days ago. Add yet another example of The Mandela Effect to the list. This 3d Matrix life is getting so surreal, & with each fleeting day, it seems to be getting exponentially more insane. Maybe it’s just me, maybe it’s others, I don’t know. I don’t really know anything, remember? From the perspective of yours truly, however, whatever is happening, IS happening, to me anyway, & I wish I knew how to explain it all. Even my writing voice is unable to properly illustrate the flushing toilet rush to some future event that is yet to come to pass, because not only is it getting progressively crazier by the day, but the 4th dimension of time, is seemingly moving faster, like a flushing toilet, as I said. Maybe the 4d time spiral IS like a flushing toilet, swirling faster & faster until it flushes away, which would explain why it appears to indeed, be moving faster as we accelerate toward a most-precarious future, to say the least.
I did some of my own research, as usual, & apparently I am not alone by any means recalling Bob Barker passing away years back. Yep, Bob Barker’s death has gone viral with the tag, “Mandela Effect.” It isn’t just me; there have been countless uploads, articles, blogs, all about Bob Barker dying years ago. WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? Ever get the feeling that this world is entirely NOT what you assumed it was? I live it, existing in this state of endless speculation, because one, this world is most definitely NOT what it seems, & two, I just want to know the truth. It’s that simple, I just want the damn truth, & not just for me, for everyone. Most of us have been deceived our entire lives…whether it be via programmed television broadcasts, fake news, CIA-distributed misinformation, this mass-deception apparatus is so engrained into our everyday lives, it’s become relatively impossible to find the TRUE truth, & of course, all as intended. That’s right, ALL intentional, & they orchestrate the zeitgeist to favor THEIR will, not ours. Nope, we are all just the commoner class, the mutts, the peasantry, & for us, it is verboten to speak and/or know the truth. As I’ve said ad nauseam here, there are 2 worlds within this 3d prison planet matrix; there’s their world, & then there’s our world, & they, control our world, in order for us to serve them.
Before I tangent off the exit ramp into some other random diatribe, I am going to wrap this one up. I just wanted to mention the Bob Barker Mandela Effect, because of all the ones I have seen/experienced now, this one was particularly spooky, since as I mentioned, I KNOW he already died a few years ago, I KNOW it, no question about it. What could it be? Is it CERN? Is it some other science project gone awry via psychopathic globalist scientists? What can be causing all of these Mandela Effects we are all experiencing? If you DYOR, & dive into the “Mandela Effect rabbit hole,” you’ll find that the number of Mandela Effect examples seems to be moving in sync with the acceleration of 4d time. More, & more, & more, as the days go by, & if we are all moving faster through the 4d time spiral, what are we moving faster towards? There has to be some kind of ending, right? Until next time dear readers, what happens when the toilet flushes all the way? Does the bowl refill with water before the next flush?…or does all of this just flush away, as it has always done perhaps? We will all see soon enough, won’t we? Buckle up Fishheads, because methinks that as bad as it may seem now out here, this is just the beginning, but the beginning of what? What is truly going to come? I wish I knew, so I could tell all of you. Nonetheless, whatever happens, stay tuned. 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™…🎏
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🎏
“News,” as in “what’s new,” & what’s new, that’s going on locally, nationally, and/or globally, as a compendium, we call “the news.” We all like keeping up with current events, we want to know the story, the REAL story, & that’s the role of said news, to report on real stories, to report on real events, when they happen, as they happened, as factually as possible. Well, as anyone with, at the very least, a proverbial hamster in their head running on an equally proverbial wheel knows, the news, has been a continuous agglomeration of all of the chaos going on around the planet, most often reported (if you can call reading a teleprompter “reporting”) in some kind of quasi-hyperbolic manner, in order to keep people watching their UN-respectable respective news channels. It’s few & far between when there’s ever any GOOD news they report on though, is there?…so it equates to as I said, an exaggeratedly jumbled mess of all that’s chaotic, all that’s negative, all that’s shocking, because that’s what gets peoples’ attention these days, isn’t it? “Shock & awe,” sells; that’s the bottom line. The worse it is, the better it is for ratings, & so that’s what gets publicized, whether it’s publicized visually or via the written word. Now, let’s pursue some so-called news & see what’s going on then, shall we? We’ll spin the figurative globe & start wherever our finger lands, musing the latest articles, and/or whatever’s “breaking,” & work our way through it. Of course, I’m not going to be including fake news mainstream media propaganda outlets like CNN, MSNBC, CBS, ABC, PBS, but wait, hang on a second…are they any real news outlets left?
Sure there are, only you won’t find them being broadcast via the televised programming that most people are brainwashed with, oh no no no, since the legit news networks would offer truth, & Clownworld doesn’t abide truth, & thus, is verboten, hence why you have to know where to find it. Here, we ONLY search for the real news, like hunting for diamonds on a beach. That’s right, & you all should know this by now, that yours truly ONLY researches REAL news, REAL events, the delivers it to all of YOU. because that aforementioned programming, is what has not only ruined the minds of many people, it has knowingly programmed them with an entirely false sense of what the REAL reality even is. It’s right there in the words…”broadcast programming,” so if one wants to find real news, they have to utilize sites like The Gateway Pundit & Breitbart, for example. These two sites compile the ACTUAL news of the day, without spin, without subjectivity, & without writers and reporters who work for the CIA, spewing out whatever wag-the-dogish garbage they are told to, as well paid to, barf out all over the daily turning of the zeitgeist windmill. Obviously, I could go right to either of those two sites I just spoke of, as those who seek real news do, but today, I am focusing on an up & coming news organization that may rival the two sites I just mentioned, albeit a friendly rivalry, for when it comes to the truth, one not cares how it’s delivered, only that it IS, in fact, delivered, in real-time, on-time. “What news site could FisH™ be referring to?,” you might be wondering. Great question, thanks for asking.
This site, which yours truly just recently discovered himself, & added to the title above, as well as bookmarked for himself, is SAN, the Straight Arrow News Network. What shoots things straighter than an arrow?…& on top of having a clever monicker, they have a team of dedicated contributors who filter out the truth from the lies, & give people the FACTS, not the fiction, offering a genuine perspective as opposed to the false conclusions drawn from that scripted-narrative nonsense being broadcast through your televisions. Their site is as professional as it gets, & I HIGHLY recommend that you download the app to your digital devices, turn on the notifications, & with that being said, let’s dive right in to today’s latest articles posted on SAN, & see what’s going on in a world, where the tide seems to FINALLY be turning from fantasy to reality. Many people are becoming increasingly turned-off by those erroneous scripted narratives, & just want to know what the hell is really going on. You can only lie to the public for so long, before the fickle nature of the mob grows cold at the thought of biased reporting being peddled by agenda-pushing peddlers who want nothing more than to get clicks, get paid, & propagate fear & anxiety, rather than simply telling the damn truth. Has it really become so outlandish, so offensive, telling the truth? It sure as, to the point of exiling those of us who DO the tell the truth, particularly yours truly, who has spent the last 6-7 years in the digital gulag for doing just that, exposing the truth, & writing about it here on this site.
SAN, Straight Arrow News…now that could catch on quickly, could it not? Giving it to you STRAIGHT, no bullshit, no fodder, just the honest-to-God truth as to what happens, when it happens, why it happens, & how it may or may not affect you directly…yes YOU, US, WE The People, the people who want to know the truth, & nothing but the truth. Okay, now let’s get into it. Dit-dit-dit-dit…dit-dit-dit-dit…first off, looks like Hunter Biden, the crack-smoking, prostitute-soliciting, degenerate son of the pseudo-POTUS Potato Joe Biden, that illegally “won” the 2020 election, via ballot harvesting, rigged voting machines, & corrupt vote-counters, has evidentially been caught yet again in even MORE nefarious activities, as if that’s shocking to anyone at this point. That’s correct, as it seems that newly released WhatsApp messages have been uncovered, detailing an exchange between Hunter Biden, & an employee from a Chinese energy company, orchestrating a $10 million deal for “favors,” & you can read all about it on SAN, by clicking HERE. FisH™ absolutely detests plagiarism or any theft of one’s intellectual property, & thus, attributes all credit to the details of the stories I will list, to the writers who actually wrote them, which I why I will simply do a quick paraphrasing of the published headline, provide the link to the story, then move on.
Up next…hang on, hang on a second, you know what, dear readers? If I continue to do this, this article will stretch the length of 197 combined attention spans, so what I think the best thing for YOU to do is, dear readers, is to go to SAN yourselves, the Straight Arrow News site, & do your own reading, for YOU, not for me. I can only illustrate their professionalism so well, & without YOU seeing it for yourself, what are we really accomplishing here? Nothing, so yes, just go tot he site, & read for yourselves. I am just happy I discovered this nascent site, so I want you to be happy discovering it as well for yourselves. SAN needs our support, the support of the American population, because with the collectively continued support of we who are sick & God-damned tired of being lied to on a seemingly never-ending basis by Operation Mockingbird mainstream media outlets like CNN, the Straight Arrow News Network will quickly grow, & become as big as the sites we are are already familiar with, sites like The Gateway Pundit & Breitbart. I am simply here to help, & to contribute whenever I can to promoting any/all news outlets that expose the REAL reality of what’s going on in this topsy-turvy world we are all stuck in together. The people want TRUTH…period. If they wanted fantasy, they’d watch Netflix all day, & before I digress into a diatribe about how too many people DO watch too much Netflix all day, I am going to wrap this article up. I just wanted to bring attention to SAN, The Straight Arrow News, so that hopefully, the few readers that still can see me, despite the AI-driven relentless shadowbanning of my site here, have another option as to where to go to find TRUTH, in a world that sadly still revolves around the lies & deception being broadcast by alphabet-agency-controlled propaganda broadcasters, like those that come free with your monthly cable bill.
Unfortunately, these days one has to look beyond the reach of their remote control to find out what the real news is all about, & if you can click a mouse, you can click on SAN, The Straight Arrow News website, see for yourselves, & then go a step further by bookmarking it, whether on your phones, your tablets, and/or your computers, adding it to your reading lists on those devices as well, & lastly, setting notifications to “ON,” so that YOU, are informed when real news breaks, & can rely on SAN to cover whatever those future breaking news events might be. Trust the reporters, writers, editors, & publishers at SAN to bring you the FACTS, & avoiding the fictions, so that YOU know what’s going on as soon as it happens, keeping you one step ahead of the fake news, & two steps ahead of the globalists who fund those Operation Mockingbird, scripted-narrative-driven propagandists, who only use their platforms to control the people, not to inform them. Until next time dear readers, listen to FisH™, who has never lied to you, or steered you wrong, especially as far as the truth goes, & download SAN, The Straight Arrow News app, to your respective devices now. If you want truth, you can always find it here, & wherever I direct you, is where to find where yours truly find the truths, the truths that I report to you. Again, that’s SAN, The Straight Arrow News. Click on it now, for YOU, not for me, for your sake, not for mine. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🎏
“ONLY facts matter, not fiction, as it relates to the daily news.” Fish F Fish🎏
I’ve read/watched COUNTLESS articles/videos about the “magic” of the summer solstice. Well, after said readings and viewings, I can tell you all with great confidence, that more-than-likely, it will just be another Wednesday in this hellishly awful 3d Clownworld. Yes…this 3d Clownworld, which seems to be exponentially growing more devolutionary. The only thing “evolving” here, is the technology these so-called “ruling elites” will utilize to completely destroy humanity. Everything else however, particularly this forsaken humanity, is devolving, & devolving now at such a rate, it drops a level by the day. I get anxious once the day’s news gets proverbially printed, because I know I’ll see something that adds further evidence for the aforementioned devolution. Murderers, liars, thieves, destroyers, & that’s just from those so-called “ruling elites,” but as the fish rots from the head(no pun intended), these terrible crimes trickle down to the global populous. The difference is, that your masters get away with it with ZERO consequences, while us slaves, get thrown into prison, should they commit such crimes.
Sounds fair, right? Fuck no, of course it doesn’t, & if you have been under a rock, crawl out & realize that there’s two different worlds, squashed into one big Clownworld. There’s THEIR world, the world of the masters/prison guards, & our world, the world of the slaves/prisoners. Oh yes, this isn’t just a Clownworld; it’s also a prison planet, & guess who the prisoners are…US, We The People, the worker bee slaves. There’s US, & then there’s THEM, & THEY, despise US. Makes me really wonder if THEY, are in fact, reptilian lizard people, hence their abysmal soullessness, & their utter hatred for humanity. Would you be surprised if one day soon, THEY, revealed themselves? I know I wouldn’t, & considering this entire artificial world is all based on lies, it would almost be relieving, because then we could systematically remove them & take our planet back. Of course, that day will never come, because even if THEY did reveal themselves & their reptilian personas, most people have been so God-damned dumbed down & programmed to comply, as well as divided amongst themselves, that they’d most likely surrender, & bow down to THEM, rather then step the fuck up as ONE united force for a change, so we could destroy THEM, rather than THEM, destroying US, as they are now doing in real-time, & have been for centuries.
Two worlds, two distinctly differing worlds, & minus a handful of anomalies, you’re either born into one world, the world of the enslaved, or born into the other world, the world of the slavemasters, mostly the former, as opposed to the latter. Obviously, I am not proclaiming this inclination is real, so to speak, but I’m not saying it’s NOT real either. I don’t know; I don’t have special sunglasses to see them, as they did in the movie They Live. I wish I did know, though, & I wish I could identify them, because maybe WE, once could have, but after a lifetime of programmed lies, global deception, poisoned water, poisoned food, indoctrination, & of course, prescribed drugs, most, if not all of US human slaves, can’t know or not know if they’re real, & thus, have no way of knowing how to defeat them. What yours truly DOES know, however, is that whatever agenda these alleged “ruling elites” are fulfilling, is being fulfilled in its entirety, culminating with 85-90% of the global population being eradicated by 2030. As I’ve said ad nauseam, that’s THEIR plan, not mine, & considering they’ve come this far, why is it so difficult to assume they’ll succeed with their final solution, per se, as well? This “final solution, is the Great Holocaust, as 85-90% of the global population equates to ohhhhhh…7 billion of us gone, wiped from the face of this planet…7 BILLION, with that big ole B, exterminated, like a sea of cockroaches. That’s what THEY think of US as, vermin, vermin that consume consume consume. They keep us around for now, while the AI ascends to a level that they can exploit & merge with, so that they will no longer need us around. Once again, & please integrate this notion so that I don’t have to keep repeating it, this is THEIR plan, THEIR agenda, not mine. I am simply here to expose it, so that maybe, just maybe, with a less than 1% chance, We The People might be able to stop them.
Here comes my inner pragmatist though, & he knows we will ultimately fail to stop them, to thwart their agenda, & whatever we do, at best, will be like a speed bump in a 25 MPH zone. Just a wee lil biddy biddy bump bump, before they merge onto the proverbial freeway, & accelerate their agenda to top speed, massacring US, we slaves, en masse. No, I’m not being negative, and/or pessimistic, it’s called pragmatism. There’s no left or right in pragmatism; it’s just truth, the unflinching, undeniable truth, & TRUTH, is not subjective, even though some have made it so, here in this 3d joke of a society. Nonetheless, I’m wrapping this up. It’s been a long day, the longest day in fact, as it has now passed midnight, & so, the Summer Solstice has begun. Until next time dear readers, let’s see how the longest day of 2023 plays out when the Sun comes up, let’s see the “magic.” So sayeth FisH™…
For all of you, & for none of you at all…
“There is no one coming to save us; we’re all doomed.” Fish F Fish
It’s really heartbreaking the way that so many young Americans aren’t encouraged to go beyond the pseudo-education of the broken public schooling system, leaving them to their own devices, and/or the aid of encouraging parents to pursue their respectively God-given talents. If a kid grows up in the PRIVATE school system, however, they develop into those talents, & by the time they reach adulthood, they have a significantly noticeable advancement over others their age who did NOT get the opportunity to get a proper education via the private school system. Do you know where the public school system originated? It came about to give the most basic education to those unfortunate kids who came from nothing, so that they could work in factories at an earlier age. Have you ever pondered why they use bells between classes? It’s to acclimatize them to the factory bells, as well as adhering to strictly regimented time schedules. One could very easily argue that the public school system is analogous to jail, with systematically redundant day-to-day procedures, to not only control them, but to keep them just smart enough to get by, & nothing more. Those disgusting school lunches, the bells, the lack of encouragement, & if you want to stand out & ask questions that defy their instructions, you get ostracized, by the pseudo-instructors, not by your peers. Looking back, it makes me want to puke, from the daily back & forth on the shit-stinking yellow banana buses, to the 2 meals a day, with God-knows-what in this wretched meals, to those fucking bells, to the overall failure to educate children properly, so to speak, & it’s as I said earlier, heartbreaking, to say the least.
More often than not, this applies to the poorer kids, & the neighborhoods they come from, as to where they go for their public education, & if you live in the wrong area, you’re fucked. It’s crucial, so very crucial, to instruct kids more than “just enough to get by,” to care about their instruction, & to treat them subjectively, rather than lumping them all into the same group, with the end goal of objectively giving all them a chance. Nowadays, these public school system ‘teachers,” are more concerned with children’s gender assignments, rather than actually “teaching” them anything that will benefit them in the future. It’s pathetic, it truly is, because without REAL guidance, they’re just going to grow up defunct, with mental issues, with repressed PTSD, & most importantly, with no plan for a prosperous future. Every day when I wake up, if I’m actually am able to sleep, I try my best to quiet my mind, so I can allow my thoughts to manifest themselves on this digital opus of mine. It’s a kind of meditation, you could say, along with my daily push-ups, & you know who had to figure this out? ME…me, myself, & I, after many years of brain fog, as a result of the indoctrination training camps that people refer to as “public schooling,” as well a series of traumatic head injuries. I’m amazed I’m even alive, to be honest, & the worst part of it is, the absolute worse part, is that it ultimately, it all comes down to something as daft as money, doesn’t it? Money, backed by absolutely nothing, is what determines the success of a person, at least here in Clownworld it does, minus the scant amount of anomalies. That’s the determining factor; fucking money, just zeros & ones on a computer, & if you don’t have any, & I don’t, you’re essentially fucked, fucked for life. It’s not natural, & in fact, it’s UN-natural, the polar opposite of natural, yet here we are, & my heart dies a little more every day from these grim realizations, which is why I write about it, so that others who have similar inclinations don’t feel alone, alone in spirit, as I do.
It has nothing to do with literally feeling alone; it’s a hopelessness, a monkey that has dug its nails so deep into your back, there’s no way to free yourself from it. Sure, perhaps you have family, & maybe a scant handful of friends, but they’re on their own proverbial islands, across the way from one’s own island onto themself, & it doesn’t matter if you have a figurative bridge, or a boat, because in spirit, you’re essentially always trapped on your own island, & no matter how much you might want to be on an island with everyone, you never can, & they will never understand why. Hell, YOU yourself, the lone islander, might not even understand why. It all goes back to those indoctrination camps of one’s youth, which subconsciously reinforce the fact, that you, yes YOU, are no different from everyone else, even though you know you are. Why are Americans in public schools never taught 2nd, or even 3rd languages from the get-go? Learning other languages opens up a whole new world of possibility for a young mind, especially when you’re taught them from an early age, but they don’t teach them, as they do in other countries. Why isn’t music theory included in that group? Music is a language onto itself; it originates from the 4th dimension, because music is all about time. Things like the circle of fifths, & the way music manifests in some kind of geometrically sacred way, is beautiful, so beautiful, but it’s well-beyond me, because once you hit middle-age, it’s exponentially more difficult to learn things as you could as a kid. I know, I know…this article is a kind of bouncing around, & somewhat nebulous, but the frustrations of self-realizations, & being on tenterhooks all day, all night, every day, every night. Yep, just waiting anxiously for some kind of personal breakthrough that never comes, until it does, only leaving one more bewildered than ever, as to this world, this wonky world that essentially amounts to prison planet, composed of slaves & masters, prisoners & guards, the former being the most prevalent, by a stunning longshot. Why? Why the fuck did I incarnate here? I don’t recall signing up for this, for any of it, yet here I still am, stuck, stuck like a horse in the mud, as well as broke, & on the brink of poverty, because no matter how hard I try, I cannot, nor will I ever, comply with the revolting notion that “it’s just the way it is.”
That’s the mentality of a slave, a compliant slave, & I will NEVER abide that ridiculous predisposition. Do I sound like a fucking slave? Do I sound like a typical person? NO, I don’t, I know I don’t, & furthermore, I don’t want anything to do with the nonsensical insanity of existing enslaved to something as revolting as money, & to so-called “ruling elites.” Fuck them. Apparently though, THEY have systematically forced US to need it, to need them, to rely on these self-entitled masters to survive. GAHHHHHHHH…it’s the root of my hate, & even though I believe in love, in unconditional love, the unconditional love via the one true God, it seems to always always always, come right back to fucking money in this 3d joke of a “life,” doesn’t it? How can anyone, ANYONE, who thinks for themselves, call this seemingly meaningless existence “life?” How is “living,” living as a slave, any sort of “life?” It isn’t, not for me anyway, it’s just a slow death, & if this is “just the way it is,” this world can fuck off, fuck right off the God-damned cliff. It took me nearly 4 decades, FOUR DECADES, to break out, & break free, from the brainwashing, from the programming, from the “brain fog” I mentioned earlier, & as I also previously said, once I did get free, in spirit, I found myself walking along thread of a tightrope between being homeless, & living in utter impoverishment, like white trash. Yes, of course I still believe in God, the real God, the Source, which is The Great Central Sun of our galaxy. No, it has absolutely nothing, NOTHING, to do with the God in the Bible, or the Tanakh, or the Koran, or any other cleverly masterminded control mechanisms, via those man-made “Gods.” They’re as fictional as The Cat in the Hat, for the real God, is so much higher than any of those pseudo-gods in their silly books. Source, as I refer to God as, is so much greater, so much grander, so un-understandable, that it’s just comical to define Source via a 3d human perspective, not to mention arrogantly insulting, as if humans are even truly capable of defining Source, at all.
I don’t know how, and/or why I incarnated here, if I even had a choice, but I feel quite self-assured that my eternal soul most definitely did not originate here. I feel the pull, the pull back toward the higher dimension, maybe the 5th, from whence I truly originated, yet somehow, in some unknown way, here I am, & maybe this will all make sense when I’m worm food, maybe not. Perhaps I won’t even recall being here, as I have no recollection as to where I was prior to this incarnation into what has revealed itself to be a bitterly draining prison planet, “ruled” by soulless scum that apparently worship Lucifer for some unknown reason, which equates to a mass mental disorder incarnate, at least to me it does. The entire world seems mental, but maybe I’m the insane one, who knows? I wish I could remember, because I know I have the answers, somewhere deep down, but I cannot remember, which lends credence to my own inclination that between the poisoned food, the poisoned water, the drugs, & the many years of indoctrination programming, I have lost my true abilities as an immortal benevolent soul of Light, the real Light, that divine Light from what humans have named, “The Great Central Sun.” Here’s a thought that one might be intrigued by…suppose we are Light Beings manifest in 3d via said Great Central Sun, but what kind of Light is The Great Central Sun subject to?
If one backs up to look at the Great Universal Picture, our Source, this Great Central Sun, is centered within one, yes ONE, galaxy, the Milky Way galaxy, but upon zooming out, we’re in a cluster of galaxies, with many “central suns, many “Sources,” & if you zoom out even further, these “Central Suns” make up what looks eerily similar to the synapses within our brains. How surreal is that? This implies, that maybe the Universe, is one unfathomably massive brain, which would ultimately be the Source of Sources, of ALL Sources. I don’t think most people take into account how unbelievably tiny we are; we’re like quarks of quarks, of quarks of quarks, so insanely small, yet our consciousness is boundless enough to fathom what I just wrote. Again, I know but I don’t know; I know I have the answers, somewhere in my immortal consciousness, but for whatever reason, I cannot find the keys to open these doors within, to know, as it were. It’s all just…just…fuck, I don’t know, & no matter how hard I try, I DO NOT KNOW.
What I do know, here in this low-vibrating 3d Earth space, is that I’m broke, broken & broke, one step away from having nothing left, nothing at all, resource wise. I’m nearly a floating bloated fish, & no matter what I do, the reckoning doesn’t come, & no one helps because the refuse to try to understand me, or my complex with living the life of a slave, so I’ve stopped expecting anything and/or anyone to help my black ass, because even though they can, they don’t, certainly not financially, despite their individual wealth of resources, they seemingly want me to just disappear, to perish in poverty, like Nikola Tesla, because I’m “shameful” to them, a shameful embarrassment, & I suppose I’ll just run out of money soon, run out out of resources to survive, like I’m running out of time, because as I said earlier, this forsaken world revolves around money, the artificial currency that keeps this hijacked Katamarian zeitgeist snowballing faster & faster down the mountain, & maybe because of the fact that I see that, everyone has forsaken yours truly, & the light at the end of my tunnel has burned out.
Wowzers…this turned into quite a ramblous rambling, didn’t it? That’s how I usually roll, to some extent anyway, but this one in particular is somewhat maundering, albeit it certainly NOT pointless, or maybe it is. I suppose it’s up to YOU, the reader, not me. I just let go of everything, tune the dial until the I find a frequency, could be any frequency, lock in on said frequency, then turn the volume up full-blast, allowing pure stream-of-consciousness to fly through my halcyonic hands, & what you see, is the real-time manifestation of whatever channel I’ve programmed into my radio. Nonetheless, it’s time to end this one, so until next time dear readers, if you have kids, homeschool them. Disregard that bullshit “lack of socialization” notion, & teach them the real reality of this 3d Clownworld, so they can survive it accordingly when they grow up into adults. Encourage their natural talents AS SOON AS they reveal themselves, & their innocently respective consciousnesses. DO NOT, & I repeat, DO NOT, turn them into you, & definitely don’t abide the slavery of this prison planet hellhole. Teach them how to be free, & how to find freedom, by exploiting their aforementioned talents. I have only one talent, & it is the creation of these words you’re reading, along with my digital artistry. Unfortunately, it all came to me too late; I had to break free from the slave mentality, break free from the braindead indoctrination from public schooling, break free from the chains that bound me to someone I wasn’t. It’s been such a battle, & now, I’m down as far as I’ve ever been, & all I have is this, my words & art left, this last ladder to get out of this God-damned well I’ve been stuck in my whole life. That is all, for now. So sayeth FisH™…🎣
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🍥
“Don’t die a slave; free yourself, or at least die trying.” Fish F Fish🎏
Cheers to all the FATHERS out there, but certainly, NOT the dads, of course. Any idiot can NOT pull out, & make a baby, but only FATHERS, should get recognition on this day. I think the black community has some outrageous percentage, something like 80%, no dad around, & maybe it’s time they take responsibility for their own culture, rather than blaming white people for everything, particularly on Juneteenth, tomorrow, because their culture is completely out of control. Facts matter, & that’s a FACT. Call me a racist, bigot, negrophobe, whatever you want; the TRUTH, is the TRUTH. If it wasn’t for white people, most of them would still be in Africa, where OTHER BLACKS, sold blacks as slaves, & continue to do so to this very day. Don’t believe me, click this link about the estimated 50 million, still enslaved. Oh my, but I digress, as usual, because this post is/was, supposed to be about Father’s Day.
I won’t get into my personal life about fathers versus dads, other than this…my real father can burn in the lowest level of hell for abandoning yours truly, & the stepdad, he’s a good dude, he did his best, I suppose, & he was there at least, but my real dad, go fuck yourself you narcissistic jackass. It’s mind-blowing to me, absolutely staggering, how a father can POOF, leaving his 1st-born son to the proverbial wolves. I have no kids, but if I did, I could never do that to my son, I just couldn’t, because there seems to be less & less fathers these days, & the father/son dynamic is crucial for a young man. It’s another example of how society is in decline, a rapid decline, as the concept of the nuclear family has been intentionally, & systematically, eroded into dust. Women CANNOT raise a boy to become a man alone…period, & the absence of the father, is detrimental to a son’s future. I had a father figure, in my stepdad at least, despite us being polar opposites in our respective mindsets, & again, he was there, but having NO father figure at all, sorry kid. Same dynamic for a girl, being raised by only a woman, or only a man, as the stats don’t lie. Girls from single-parent homes are more prone to be dysfunctional, once they’ve grown into adults. TWO PARENTS, THAT’S THE WAY, the RIGHT way, a biological mother, & a biological father, because there are ONLY 2 genders for fuck’s sake, & if said parents, are queer, it’s the same as a single parent, as far the statistics go. A mother, & a father, as intended by Nature, that’s the path to take.
Nonetheless, I’m keeping this one relatively nebulous, & not doing a quote. What’s to quote? Until next time dear readers, keep this in mind…it takes two, a mother and a father, to raise a child, because ONLY a mother and/or ONLY a father, is just a recipe for a future black sheep disaster, once that unfortunate kid grows up. That is all. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
As I have mentioned numerous times before, my black ass is heavily, HEAVILY, shadowbanned. Before the Great Purge in the 2016-2017 era, I was getting thousands of views a day, but now, I’m lucky if I get 10, occasionally even 20, despite the 5000-plus pages of writing I have done in the decade I’ve been writing here on Wordpuke, I mean WordPress. Yep, I’m shadowbanned here, HERE, on my own digital opus. Such is the way of Clownworld 2023…(honk noise). However, in the last few days, I noticed a healthy spike in my view count, topping out at around 70 views yesterday, I believe. Numerically, that is a YUGE increase in views, even though in the proverbial big picture, that’s still relatively nothing, compared to the views I used to get prior to said Great Purge. Nonetheless, it’s significant, & even though I’m not sure exactly what caused this 3-consecutive-days spike, I greatly appreciate all the views. Yours truly can only speculate, even though my speculations have shed no light on the reason for the increase, so I suppose I should just be thankful, which I most certainly am.
Maybe it has something to do with my unending daily stream of applications I send out to potential employers, but I have been doing that for a year now, so it’s a bit of a mystery as to why the sudden increase in views is occurring. Regardless, as I said, it’s very much appreciated, & so now, I’m going to address those aforementioned potential employers, as to why they should hire me to write for them. Where do I begin, where do I begin? So many starting points to choose from, so I’ll begin with a most-important reason why I stand out from everyone else. Quite simply, it’s due to the fact that I illustrate my articles with MY OWN GIF animations, & as far as I know, no one, NO ONE ELSE, does this. Not only do I make my own GIFS, I make them well, with no skips, & with an authentically unique artistic style, that further elevates me, far above any other writers, so much so that it’s as if I was on an island, an island onto myself. Have you ever seen another writer that does this, or even CAN do it? I haven’t, & believe me, I look, but nope, never seen another warrior of the pen utilizing this technique to give their articles more life, if you will. I like creating, & in fact, I LOVE it, being the creator, creating my own world, my own niche, as it were. That’s right, it’s mine, my own niche, truly original, & thus, I can call it all my own.
Moving on to the next reason why you should hire me, & that reason is, that writing for me, is a passion. I’ve written more-or-less all my life, beginning with a story I wrote about teachers being aliens, at the tender age of 10, which got published in a local magazine. I’ve always loved the arts as a whole; I love to paint, draw, create digital art, & of course, writing, which tops the list. I have an impressive lexicon that is so vast in my head, words come out of my ears, & if ever I find myself not knowing a certain word, or in need of knowing a certain word, or a synonym for a certain word, I simply look it up, then add it to the lexicon. In addition, I’m quite well-read, & if you peruse my various articles, you’ll find countless references to the sages of yesteryear. Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, Camus, Marcus Aurelius, & those are only the ones that popped out first. Obviously, I could list more, many more, but I think you get the point. I also know bits of several languages, as well as many of the Latin, Greek, & Germanic origins of the English language. Like I mentioned earlier, if I don’t know, I look it up, then integrate it into my word-smithery, which has built itself into an arsenal that I can utilize at will whenever I write and/or speak. This has also provided me with a strong sense of wit, a genius-level wit, as well as an originality that is all my own. Original wit, something maybe we should all strive for, yes? Not to mention, it kind of sounds like a band name for some neo-chillwave sounding musicians…lots of synth, but I digress, as always, which is par for this here course of mine. Original Wits…derp…continuing on…
Along with these reasons I detail above, I center everything, literally EVERYTHING, around TRUTH, which in this modern age, is proving difficult to find, is it not? There’s so much fakery out here in the trenches, so much un-truth, so much propaganda, such insane propaganda, which is why I am so passionately disciplined about writing ONLY truth. I pride myself on that attribute, even though “pride,” is one of the seven deadly sins. Maybe “pride” is the wrong word then, yes? I don’t want to be remembered as a prideful person; I want to be remembered as a human being that lives by truth, exposes the truth of this reality, & dies by truth, many years from now, hopefully. No one can ever take that away, but if you’re a liar, & a fraud, & that’s the legacy you leave behind, shame on you, not to mention an eternity of being known as a deceptionist. Incidentally, “deceptionist,”is not a real word, but the way I see it, if you write eloquently, & the words you use fulfill the fundamental rules of grammar, who says whether it’s a “word,” or not? Some douchebag college professor, perhaps? Fuck them, & their abidance to staying within their own self-defined boundaries, per se. Who makes up these idiotic “rules?” I’ve never been one to follow rules, particularly ones that make no sense to me, & I am more-than-brave-enough to think for myself, to make MY own rules, so that’s what I do. This applies to life, at least it does to MY life, & if you don’t like it, don’t read it, & get the fuck outta my face.
Words, are one letter away from swords, & I wield my respective swords like William Wallace at the Battle of Stirling. Oh man, what it must’ve been like to live back then. Can you imagine an army of sword-wielding Scots, charging headlong at you, shouting battle cries as they encroach on your position? To me, it’s arguably analogous to writing pure truth, while the other side comes back at you with propagandistic lies & bullshit, expecting you & your army to adhere to their position & retreat. “Stick those lies up your unrespective arses,” I proclaim, as I go charging right back at them, with the armor of truth shielding me from their nonsensical rubberized swords. Truth is indestructible; the truth is eternal, & no matter how much they swing, they always miss me. I wish I could say that for the rest of humanity, but unfortunately, most would rather comply, then to fight. If only we could ALL unite as one massive force, we could destroy their fabricated scripted narratives, their corruption, their self-entitled power positions we allow them to hold, all of it, we could take back from them in a day, if we wanted, but who is them exactly? Great question, thanks for asking. They, as it were, are these so-called “ruling elites,” that I have mentioned ad nauseam, & their deceptionary fake news apparatuses, as well as the alphabet agencies that protect them, keeping all of US divided, rather than united, to fight, & ultimately defeat them. There’s way, WAY more of us, but yet they still hold dominion over most of you, over the planet, but why? Why can’t we all unite? Why do we stay divided? Why do they gain more & more & more power & wealth at an exponential rate, while We The People, sink deeper & deeper into the swamp of impoverished sadness? For the life of me, I’ll never understand why, & since this has been happening for centuries, yes, CENTURIES, methinks the divide will keep growing, not just between US & THEM, but between US & US.
Oy vey, I could go on, & on, & on, with more reasons why YOU, yes YOU, should hire me immediately as a writer. I abide my viewers, my readers, & as I am super-savvy with SEO writing, I always offering links for those who like to swim in the deep end of the pool, because I want YOU, to learn for yourselves, & not rely entirely on yours truly, or others, to do all of the research & deep-diving for you. There’s little benefit to that notion, for you gain so much more by learning for YOU, not for me. I am here to help, to point the way, like those guys who spin arrow-signs on the side of the road, but the way I spin my sign is like no other. If you want talent, along with exceptional creativity, via a seasoned veteran of the figurative sign-spinning, what are you waiting for? Hire me. The FisH™ abides, always, dudes & dudettes, & I would love nothing more than to finally get paid for doing what I do, for holding onto my passion. I give to you, you give to me, & I can assure you, with 1000% confidence, that with the help of the right publisher, my diligent work can go viral, & manifest a win-win situation for all parties involved. I’m a spark, & you have the gasoline, so let’s combine our forces, & blow this world up with the TRUTH, the raw truth, of what the real reality of this artificially propped-up is, rather than the Clownworld ridiculousness spewed out by the mainstream fake news machine malevolently says it is. They barf it out all over the zeitgeist, to do nothing more than control you, & what you’ve been led to believe is real. None of it’s real, NONE OF IT, & damnit, I want to exist in a world based on natural order, the TRUTH, & it’s time for a Divine Great Reckoning to befall Mother Earth, before the malignant cancer becomes terminal, for all of us. Until next time dear readers, & potential future employers, remember this…there’s NO fish like this FisH™, & if you have the fishbowl, let’s make this happen. So sayeth 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🎣
Maybe it’s just me, but I never, like ever, have dreams where there is an internet, or cell phones, or something as atrocious as money. Nope, nary a one, but when I wake up, it IS real, at least as far as my senses tell me. I have no inclinations of even existing in this backwards-ass fucked-off world when I’m in the dream state. I see people I’ve never met in the waking world, but yet somehow I know as if I’ve known them for countless lifetimes. It’s pure, pure unconditional love, pure connection, & it’s as real as existing here in this 3d Clownworld, yet I keep waking up, right back in said Clownworld, as if I’m being punished, like some kind of karmic imprisonment. Everyone thinks I’m insane by now, & who can blame them, because they abide this existence, while yours truly, is continuously questioning the meaning in any of it.
Can’t think these thoughts, or you’re crazy, so they imply here, but no, I’m not crazy. I’m just another lost soul, with no memory of prior incarnations, as if they’ve been intentionally erased, only lending more validity to my claim that this world is the 3d manifestation of the big soul trap. Is The Great Recycler real?…fuck if I know, but I saw it, as clearly as I see this glowing screen. Either I am insane, or, I’m right over the target, but such knowledge is verboten amongst us plebs, as you’re expected to work work work, chasing that money, even if you hate what you have to do to get more of it. Meanwhile, darkness incarnate amongst the elitists of the world has them living like royalty, & most of us are just slaves, slaves to money, to debt, & to the aforementioned darkness. I hate this, I fucking hate this so much, the lack of love, the sinister nature of the master/slave dynamic in itself, I fucking despise it, yet I am supposed to just assume that this is all “just the way it is,” my favorite un-favorite phrase, that amounts to a false bliss of being ignorant, as well as complacent to this sick game we’re all playing, apparently.
Not me, I don’t want anything to do with evil, and/or malevolence, and/or the darkness. I don’t want to be soulless, I don’t want to do what I have to do to survive, I don’t want any of this. I want my fucking abilities back, my TRUE abilities, but nope, I can’t have them, not here in this 3d Earth plane. When I sleep, if I ever do, & am lucky enough to dream, I HAVE my true abilities. I can fly, fly like I walk, as if it’s second nature. I don’t even think about it, I just can fly, but only in dreams. I have no connection to The Great Mouse Trap in dreams, I am free, free of this prison planet, but then I wake up, & I’m right back here, sinking more & more into the proverbial shit sandwich, a total contradiction to my higher self, & why? This is a trap, a soul trap, & I think we’re all being setup for some not-so-distant future Great Holocaust, where billions, yes BILLIONS, of us will be sacrificed on the alter of The Great Recycler, so that these minions of The Great Darkness gain more dominion over this artificial 3d Earth. Yep, you’re only empowering them, not yourself, & what kind of “life” is that? It’s not, it’s not life at all, it’s death, a slow death as a slave, the polar opposite of what it means to truly live.
Why would anyone with this kind of inclination want to keep doing this, for them, why? I wish I knew, but I know I don’t, & if this truly is “just the way it is,” you can all have it. Keep playing their game for them, not for yourselves, just to get “rewarded” with table scrap I-O-U paper fiat money. It’s so pathetic, but somehow I’m totally out on my own island with these respective notions. I’ve never felt more awakened, yet more abysmally alone, in my entire sordid life. No one told me any of this, I had to discover it myself, & maybe this, whatever this is, is what your so-called leaders do to people like me, just systematically weeding us out, isolating us, then destroying us with the self-realization of what this existence really means. Or, maybe I am insane, but if I were, I wouldn’t be cognizant of my own insanity, now would I? Crazy people don’t know they’re insane, & being sane in an insane world, really makes it difficult to whittle out any reason to keep playing this futile game. There’s no exit, no way out, until you take that last breath, & the rules were made by those who think they’re above the rest of us, which only adds to this utterly futile feeling of even trying anymore. Why try? There is no try, there is only do, or not do. I don’t want to do this, nor do I feel I need, need to do this anymore.
This world is not real, everything is a lie, & no one fucking cares. “Just the way it is,” right? Wrong, & I don’t , nor will I ever, abide this slavery, because that’s what it all amounts to, slavery, soul slaves to some kind of dark entity that I want nothing to do with. If you venerate the darkness, you get “rewarded,” but with what? Money? Power? More artificial constructs? Fuck that, they’ve taken so much from us, from all of us, & the part they took includes us knowing our true potential as human beings with souls. Look around, where is the soul? I see a bunch of soulless zombies, like some bizarre real-time walking dead, & if you let them bite you, you’re a zombie too. I’m not walking death, I’m not a zombie, I am a free soul, albeit a soul stolen, brought down to this low-vibrating dimension, to be enslaved, like everyone who isn’t in the big club. Nope, I’m not interested, in any of it. I just want to create, create words, create pictures, create portraits, but to create a new life, only to be sucked down into this hellish existence, nope, I could never do that. I could, but I never will, & thus, I have little to nothing, as far as anything meaningful that your overlords can take for themselves.
Regardless, it’s time to wrap up this rambling nonsense. It’s just nonsense, & if 10 people a day actually read any of this drivel, what does it matter? It doesn’t; nothing matters anymore, because what is anything in a world of nothing? It’s just more nothing, & once I am out of this body, I am going to find my way back home, to my real home, somewhere in the stars, but not here. Nope, I’m done with this prison planet, as well as any legacy I might leave. It will only be these words, & the art I create, & that’s it. Fuck a slave job, fuck money, fuck the powers-that-be, fuck The Great Mouse Trap, fuck The Great Recycler, fuck it all. I mean nothing to it, so it, means nothing to me. “Just the way it is,” yes? Fuck that, it’s not my way, nor will it ever be. Until next time dear readers, don’t be a slave to something as pathetically fake as money, and/or power, because you have no real power when you exist as a slave, & you never will. So sayeth FisH™…🎣
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 