Geezus tap-dancing Buddha how many places must I submit my resumé to before I get paid to do this? Maybe I just suck as a writer, perhaps I’m a failure at the art of wordsmithery? I don’t know, but since it’s not limited to writing jobs, & I am legally & medically badged to sell cannabis, I’m throwing out applications back into the industry. STILL not getting hired, & I am a decent grower, with a lot of experience, surely with ENOUGH experience to hop on in there & get sticky. No calls though. Doesn’t matter, who cares? I’m over-embracing this “who cares” vibe perhaps? Also, I don’t really want to go back to that industry to be honest. It’s a go-nowhere job, & ONLY the owners of the grows and/or dispos make real loot. Once you get to the top of the mountain, whether it be the head budtender or the head grower, you’re doing about as well financially as a manager at McDonalds is. Yep, not as glamorous as many people assume it might be. “But you get to smoke weed all day bro,” yeah so what ya dunce? You can do that anywhere if you want to, duh. I’m too old for it these days too, as it’s all mostly millennial, & I’m now the “old guy,” gah, these are NOT options I want to deal with anymore. Fuckin hell, THIS is what I want to do, THIS, writing articles, illustrated with MY own GIF animations, all ME, ME ME ME, how bout them apples? Why can’t one pursue their only plausible talent, rather than settling & selling your soul to be a paycheck-scrapper? Is that…narcissistic of me? Be sure to read to the end, there might be a bonus at the winner’s circle…
This is about ME, right?…because I’m a narcissist maybe? Ugh, I don’t know, I know I try NOT to be one, but from one’s own view, it IS your Universe, is it not? Isn’t everyone “self-centered?”…as in you “center your self,” because you ARE the center of YOUR Universe, see what I mean? Is it the language I’m not getting? It seems to be right, right? Self…centered…YOU, yourself, is the center of everything, because you ARE the center of everything, from YOUR perspective, correct? What am I missing here? Let’s look up the textbook definition of narcissism together shall we? Or you can just click the word back there, or you can be extra-lazy & just look below. Fuck it, time to really open up the frequency & see what comes through this channel; we’re going deep diving, into the murky depths, where the abyss lurks, only to look back at you…
The reason I’m attempting to illustrate these notions, is because it seems like people are throwing this particular word, & other similar words around…”as needed,” so to speak, as if they’re aggressive buzz-words, for use as ammo in verbal warfare, “oh I’m gonna outsmart you, then no I’m gonna outsmart you, look at my words I’m hurling at you, in cleverly ordered manner to throw off your counter-attack,” does this make sense to any of you? Another one is “gaslighting,” voted the “number one word of 2022,” I think. Derp, & it’s not that I dislike these words, it’s just as an evolving disciple of the English language, it’s almost downright revolting the way said language is now used these days. It’s like a shoot-off of the overall Orwellian cultural metamorphosis we’re all existing through right now. Just another fractal, as the macroorganism Planck-lengths its way to some new zeitgeist, & where will this language & these behaviors & these mass psychoses take us, what sort of future awaits in this mental asylum world?
Hmmm, “does NOT support that notion,” it says? Weird, because everyone calls everyone a narcissist. Try & stick up for yourself…”NARCISSIST!” …, I guess even when using one’s own self as a reference point, you get that now-infamous N-word. No, THE “N-word,” not nigger, no, not that even-more-infamous “N-word,” I’m talking about the word, “narcissism.” ME ME ME ME ME, now up above there, that was just the textbook definition, which really doesn’t count for much, other than what it implies, “defining a word,” but it doesn’t explain the word, so let’s look at a more in-depth description of this mental affliction.
Click the Link to read more about…>>> Narcissism Symptoms & Causes ..let’s go though these, becasue this is all about ME, ME ME ME ME ME right now, right? See what I’m doing? Either narcissistic or a douchebag, but most likely both. Duh. Without comedy, even if it’s B-list lame-ass jokes, it’s better than tragedy, yes? Let’s go through this list below:
Interesting, tough one too. Admiration, well no one really reads these and/or knows and/or cares if I exist, so there’s no one to really “admire” any of this crap, & obviously that notion alone implies a lack of any inclinations of “self-importance” I might have. I know I am a talentless fraud wasted TV baby from the asshole end of Generation X. All m friends are dead, & I don’t even know why I’m here, but I am aware of a part of me that WANTS number one to be meaningful, but it isn’t, nothing is.
Again, I’m guilty of being aware of having the kinds of inclinations, so what do you do when your self-aware of narcissistic tendencies, & actively try to fix them, but you fail yourself, over & over, & no one cares? That’s my fault though, I deserve NOTHING, only I wish I could be treated kindly because I try to be that way toward others. Isn’t that the rule, treat others as you want to be treated? Do I treat people poorly? I don’t know, I know I don’t want to, who would want that? I hope I don’t, but I don’t know. I have, for sure, & I cannot do anything to change it. I don’t know. I’m white, so I don’t know much anymore, & concepts of “privilege” & special treatment” are kind of blurry these days.
Numero tres, yes, I suppose I’m guilty of these thoughts, but where do thoughts come from? I don’t know, I told you I don’t know anything, I’m a fucking proverbial used-car salesman, the charlatan, isn’t that what they call bullshit narcissists? Charlatans? This is crap, my digital art is crap, if it was any good, people would visit my sites, but no one does, because I’m not any good, nor have I done anything worth a fuck in my whole sordid life. I’m only doing this, because THIS, is all I know how to do, so again, YES, I have thoughts that I have done amazingly unique art, & I’m a talented digital artist, & the best writer ever, & blah blah blah, all just delusional monkey-mind gibberish. Truth is, I only came back to this because I realized I sucked at everything else, & had nothing else, unless I want to go deliver pizzas like a fucking kid, the same punk kid I was 30 years ago. Pathetic.
Yep, guilty, & guilty again, & I kind of covered this in answer number three, so what else could I add here? It’s bizarre, because I’m well-aware no one is there, but I make my little shoutout vids & similarly stupid shit anyway. I KNOW NO ONE CARES, I know my “achievements” are nil, & if I have any “talent,” this drivel is it. It’s as big as this answer to question number four. Not to mention I’ve been digitally exiled from the virtual town square for trying to participate with everyone else. I guess I don’t do well in filtered settings, so it’s been just me, with literally no one, & Im not cognizant enough anymore of anything to care about likes & shares. None of it matters.
Yep, all the above, in a world onto myself, like a humid cave full of fresh bat guano, rife with the stench of shit. “Success,” derp, yeah right, successfully ruining everyone’s lives around me as well as my own, but I believe I should have the riches, as if that makes sense. Got it you fuckin idiot. “Power,” well you need strength of character to hold power, doesn’t matter if you’re “good” or “bad,” if you have strength of character, you can hold real power, not the pretend pseudo-power that only exists in my own self-delusions. “Brilliance,” hmmm, I don’t even know, does that mean you figuratively “shine?” …like someone who “lights up a room,” as they say? Or is it referring to intelligence?…as in, “I know I’m smarter than everyone else,” well, of course I am you moronic automatons. You’re all fucking idiots. I don’t really believe that, but part of my mind has notions like that, all the time, & I can’t explain how they got there, so what am I to do? “Beauty,” well I am certainly aware of vanity, & it sucks I can’t appreciate beauty without vanity. I don’t know why, I don’t know why any of this is the way it is. ME ME ME ME ME, yeah I fucking know, I’m the one stuck in this meat suit. Finally, the last one, the futile quest for the “perfect mate.” I actually might have beat this one, albeit the long, hard way. You have better luck finding a magic toad in a pot of gold being carried by a Bigfoot riding a Unicorn that farts glitter, than finding the “perfect mate.” Yes, I DID have that idealization, for a long time, & that one I already beat, because it beat me.
Yep, & yep, & because of this, I’ve somewhat subconsciously self-isolated away from everyone & everything, minus my alleged “equals” that only exist in other places not in my own locality…i.e. digital “friends.” They aren’t really my friends, I don’t have any real friends, I don’t know how to have friends, keep friends, I know how to make friends, but that never lasts, not even my virtual pseudo-friends on the Interwebs.
Yep, exceptionally critical, to the point that I hate them, you dumb fucking dummy dumdums down the drain diving in dumpsters. Fuck you all, you fuckin losers. Again, NOT me, but those thoughts come through, whatever this channel is I tune into, THIS is what comes through. It’s incredibly exhausting keeping up with the filtration system. It’s thoughts, MY thoughts, but “mine” only as far as they come through me, but I don’t know where thoughts arise from. Am I “generating” them myself, birthing these ideas into the world? I don’t know. Stop blaming me for things I don’t know and/or can’t control. Does “narcissism” sound fun, like something you would want?
Let’s see here, “special favors,” for me, what special favors can you do for me? I don’t know, gah, my head hurts, this is difficult doing this, sorry, sorry sorry sorry, shouldn’t say that out loud, pronouncing my own head pains from the stress of writing about these things, to all of my ghostly non-existent readers. Oh wait, that’s right, no one reads this, so no one cares, so no worries, so so what, right? So, let’s move on. Not expecting anything or doing anything for anything & everything anymore & no more. Why? What’s the point? Of anything for me anymore? Broken clocks are right twice a day, broken people can’t be fixed, & aren’t ever “right.”
Oh man, so guilty, all at THEIR expense for MY own gain. ME ME ME ME ME. Always about ME, well, me & my disease. They’ll say you have a disease, then blame you, then you say, “but you said I am sick, how’s it my fault?,” & they say, “it’s your fault, but if you pay us a bunch of money, we’ll help you with your disease.” Then you say, “I have no money, & no one to help me properly,” & they say, “go to the food banks, bye.” There sure is a lot of “taking advantages” going around, but I get the specificity of the implication here in trait number nine of the terribly terrifying “N-word.”
This one is…confusing, because I do, I try, I try so hard, but maybe I can’t feel anything, maybe it’s form my history of bad head injuries, I don’t know. I get so distracted, I try to think about it from their shoes, then I think about shoes in general, my brain doesn’t seem to have a well-functioning empathy drive then I guess, right? I’m willing, I have the will to be willing, but no one notices it, like I’m a ghost.
Hahahahahaha..oh man, well I know damn well NO ONE envies me for anything that I’m aware of, so scratch the 2nd half of that game, & I don’t care about thees enough to be “jealous,” & I wouldn’t call that little green monster on my should “envy,” I’d call it…”disappointment,” disappointed that some people get certain things that make no sense to me, like someone like Cardi B…absolutely impossible for em to be envious of that twat, but it disappoints me that life “rewards” that stripper with so much. Would I ever trade places with her though?…FUCK NO, are YOU insane? & I’d wager she feels the same, but she’s allowed to be as narcissistic as she can be, & it’s okay, see the logic there? You do? That’s weird, because there is no logic there, it just is what it is I suppose.
Oh yes, yes, & yes, arrogance, I bathe in it, using shampoo on my bowling-ball-blad head just to rub it in deeper too. Bragadociousness & conceit, sure, why not? Comes right alongside “arrogance,” doesn’t it?…like a little gang, arrogance, braggings, & a grossly conceited attitude, patrolling the hood, right? What can one say, when they know they’ve acted in such a way? Once again, quite aware & conscious of it too, but the auto-pilot keeps flying the plane anyway, on the same course. I can;t change course if I’m not the one always flying the plane, can I? I donlt even have a pilot’s license though, so I guess I’m really fucked up in the air, aren’t I?
Finally, last one, at least it’s my 2nd lucky number, 13. 22 & 13, never win me shit, but still they’re “lucky” in my head. What a fucking loser, Jesus Christ, help this guy out already or something, would ya? Someone, something up there, anything celestial & ethereally Divine, give this fuck-off a helping hand so he has harmony instead of hell. Who doesn’t want the “best of everything,” too bad I got nothing, unless I boost it, & booster seats are for squirts. That’s it for that impromptu narcissist checklist, did I win?
Well, that was totally random & unexpected. The only freedom I feel anymore, is in this space, my writing space. only thing that’s really “mine,” isn’t it? I’m over the buzzword labelings, the mental disorder diagnoses, if this is “life,” & this is what I fucked-off & made of it, why continue? Why? No one there, no one to care, everyone eat my underwear. Yes, I can write silly nonsense, BECAUSE NO ONE WILL EVER READ THIS, unless I send them an individually respective link, nope, this is just like pissing in the wind for me, all my own stinky poisoned pee spraying right back in my face, & up my nose, & on my tongue, this tongue that has driveled on long enough via this Ouroborian channel I’m plugged into & these robot arms that type type type away until I find this silly circularity I always bullshit about..”.beginning finds the end to find the start all over again,” gabba dabba doo wah ditty doo doo, who gives a fuck about a “mysterious circularity phenomenon” when I write, I just reiterate the beginning of the article at the end, like every other generically corny writer to ever crayon-scribble down their own literary puke. Who cares? So I’m done with that, maybe done with this, maybe done with myself doing this, because none of it matters, does it? Except to ME ME ME ME ME, right? Projecting out, as if on queue, until next time dear reader. So sayeth FisH™🎣
For all of you fucks, & for none of you fucking fucks at all.
“Done with that, done with this, done with myself, doing this & that.” ~Fish F Fish🎏
NOTE: This article is a 1st-person, AND 3rd person perspective, maybe fictional, maybe not. This could be all made up, or entirely true, for I am the Creator here, but only creating what I am channeling, as it were. I just plug the antenna in, & the connection is made, then my fancy fingers fly. Take what you want, or take nothing at all. It matters not to me, dear readers, I’m just following the flow of the Universe, in MY Universe. You have your own Universe, but this one is mine. Do hast thou will, & take this ramblous raving rant for what it is, whatever this is.
What is embarrassment? I think of it as a pseudo-emotion, as in it’s not organic, & purely driven by ego. Yes, embarrassment is a slowly-vibrating-low-level false emotion that your ego creates for some reason to “trick” you into comparing yourself to others & then measuring your own value against said others, in a way that makes you look foolish & naive. You’re “embarrassed,” but why, why do people do this? It’s so bizarre, & the notion of “embarrassment” applies to one group in particular that I’m going to reference for today’s daily Foozer…but who is this “particular group” I speak of? Let the slaughtering commence…
PARENTS, parents with unusual kids, unusual kids that “embarrass” their respective parent/s. These parents take it so far too, to such extremes, as the whole concept of “parenting,” in itself, has become an exhaustive exercise in futility trying to understand what the fuck these “birthing persons” are thinking. Do they even think, do they even think at all before they pop out another behbeh into this wonky Clownworld? For the most part, nope, no they don’t think at all, & these pregnancies “just happen,” as if people don’t understand how babies are made. Every kid, on paper, is a $250,000 investment, at least, now would you randomly buy a ¼ million dollar boat? Nope, but you pop out a kid like it’s nothing, right? No planning, nothing, just whoops, “we are preggo, it just happened,” as if that proverbial stork just sent them an email with the news or something, it’s difficult for me to understand. I don’t have any kids, intentionally, because I’m ending this trip back to Earth School with me, as far as my own bloodline goes. It stops here, for me anyway, as I just mentioned, so I’m just a speculative observer in all of this, with only my own individual experience for a reference point. What experience am I talking about? Well, as you can see in the title up there, “The Embarrassment,” so who do you think the embarrassment was? This guy, this guy right here(looks in mirror with thumbs pointed at myself), this sorry sap writing this gibberish that you’re reading, ME, your ever-more-humble narrator, the big embarrassment.
Yes, unfortunately for me, my parents were in a constant state of embarrassment. Wanna read some fucked-up dialogue? As I recall a chain of traumatizing events in my mind, I think of my own thoughts while this was all happening to me. It’s kind of weird, & yes, certainly dark & cloudy as far as the nature of the content, but it is what it is, it happened, & I want to illustrate what happened, because it was really fucked up, what they did to me, really no bueno. It was MY life, & they reduced me to an ugly & deformed little freak with his freak head in the God damn freaky white clouds all the time, plagued by a child’s innocent fear, I was so scared, I didn’t know what was happening, how could I? I was just a kid, not a fucking embarrassment, but maybe it was their generation, these aging baby boomers, on the way out, after socially massacring the following generation, MY generation, Generation X, the last generation before the digitals arose. We were the TV babies, as I’ve mentioned ad nauseam here, just stick them in front of the TV until they shut up, can’t have these kids “embarrassing” us, now can we? Of course, that ideal was never pronounced out loud, oh no, but they all thought it, “please don’t embarrass us,” but never mind the kids, these GenX kids, never mind their own future arrested developmentally challenged mental issues, that would be “embarrassing,” wouldn’t it? Thanks a lot parents, to all GenX parents, you baby boomers really fucked us all good, didn’t you? Can’t swallow that pill, can you, you old crows? Well swallow this one then, & YES, I AM BITTER, in fact, it’s quite enraging when I think about how we were treated, particularly myself as it relates to the next paragraph, just a little freak weirdo that no one wanted around. Great childhood, & no, it ain’t that bullshit family picture of functionality you put up on the wall of your nice house in the suburbs, far fucking from it, so enough of the pretend-time, ENOUGH. Stop the fucking LARPing already, the clock is ticking..ticking away. Now, I’ll share some inner monologue from a sordid youth. It gets dark, fair warning, proceed at your own accord…
~Hey you, yeah YOU, that short & skinny “weird kid,” the weak & effeminate one, with the fucked-up face, how old are you now, 7? 8? What’s wrong with you boy? Yeah, that kid, something wrong with him, that kid who doesn’t act like other kids, he’s a bit aloof, is he not? Ever since he hurt himself, which of course, was entirely his own fault, stupid little kid, he doesn’t act right, does he? All those books, & the strange drawings, what’s with all the art & writing? That’s faggot stuff, are you a faggot? Be a man, why don’t you play sports, you little weirdo? What are you, a faggot or something? Yes, that’s it, you’re a little homo, aren’t you? Don’t do that, stop being a pussy, stop doing that, that’s weird, you’re a weird little faggot, you know that?(smacks me in the face, a little blood comes from my already broken & deformed nose), now stop, STOP CRYING, that didn’t hurt, suck it up you little faggot, stop doing that & go to your room, go watch tv, just stay away from us, our new family with our new newborn you little faggot bastard., your real dad hates you, & so do I. Ok, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for embarrassing all of you, I don’t know what to do, I’m only a kid, I DON’T KNOW what to do….maybe I’ll try football, or any sport, so I’m not an embarrassment, I’m sorry, I don’t want to be embarrassing anymore. I’m not a “faggot,” I don’t even understand what that means, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I hurt myself awhile back, I had a really bad head injury, I fell face first into a flight of stairs, I ruined my face, & something in my head is different after the surgery, you know, the surgery where I died, I died & saw the doctors trying to fix my broken face, I remember it all, watched the whole operation, I look terrible, look at me, look at my face, I ruined my face, where was my mother? My face hurts so much, everything is foggy, I can’t see straight, something isn’t right? Please mother, please, I know stepdad & father hate me, but not you too? Please mother, help me, maybe you should take me to see someone? Maybe a specialist? No? That would be “embarrassing?” You as well, you hate me too? Ok then, I’m sorry, I don’t want to disappoint you, so I’ll try the sports thing. Oh look, stepdad is a coach too, so this should be fun. Wait, no, not going to be fun? Why? I’m trying my best, but everyone is bigger than me, ahead of me, I don’t know why, why am I smaller than everyone else? Maybe the head injuries? I’m sorry, I’m trying. SHUT UP YOU LITTLE FAGGOT. Why don’t you listen? DO WHAT I SAY GOD DAMNIT. Can’t you remember the God damn play you little girl? Everyone is watching me, the disappointment, so embarrassing right?…& stepdad is embarrassed again & angry with me, again. See? I’m in the 3-point stance(swiftly kicks me from behind, so his foot catches me perfectly in the taint, dropping me to the ground in agonizing pain & torrents of tears) …OUCH, OUCH, I can’t move it hurts too much, please stop stepfather, please stop, ouch, it hurts so bad, my legs won’t work. SHUT UP, SHUT THE FUCK UP, & STOP crying you little faggot, get up, I SAID GET UP, GET THE FUCK UP, & STOP CRYING…NOW. I can’t though, that kick to the back of my balls was paralyzing, ouch it hurts, am I bleeding down there? Why is everyone looking at me? Everyone, they’re all looking at me, even the other coaches, like maybe they feel sorry for me? I’m sorry, I’m the “sorry” one, I’ve embarrassed myself I guess, I don’t understand, I don’t understand any of this, I’m only 8, I don’t know what’s happening, I’m trying, please please don’t kick me anymore, please don’t hurt me anymore, I’m already down…”dad,” please, I’ll try & stop crying, but the pain, ouch. SHUT UP. I said, GET UP YOU LITTLE FAGGOT! Do you wanna grow up to be a faggot? Stop crying, I don’t care if it hurts, GET UP…GET THE FUCK UP…NOW. Ok, I’ll get up…(walks off the field, then walks home alone, & never goes back to finish the season)~
That’s all I’m going to do with that preceding paragraph. Dark, isn’t it? That’s not even that bad, & I could go on & on…perhaps, but I won’t, I’m just going to stop for now before I take you all on a horrifying hike through the Black Forest. Wouldn’t want to “embarrass” myself, now would I? (Fart Noise) …yeah, I don’t get embarrassed, not an attribute I possess, because I’m not stuck in my own ego like most, especially you baby boomers. “Don’t embarrass us, don’t embarrass us,” how about fuck you all, how about that? You ruin an ENTIRE generation with your own whacked-out sense of morality, & you want US to not embarrass YOU? Wow, maybe get the fuck outta the house with that bullshit already? Just stop, stop the LARPing as if it were all ponies & posies, because it’s not, not even close. Now who’s the REAL embarrassment, if you wanna take it down to that pseudo-emotional level? Oh, but as if on cue, there she is, my sweet circularity, round & round my serpent goes, eating itself, then shitting itself out, only to be eaten again. She always comes through for us, doesn’t she? One could speculate I am meant to write all of this, as it just comes through on the frequency I dial into, & completes itself via my hands. That is all, that is all this is, whatever this might be. Until next time, ponder the notion of embarrassment, or don’t, do whatever YOU want, for YOU, not for me.
Attention:: Before reading this, understand that I am trying to illustrate a unique, yet somewhat “generalized” perspective, which is not entirely my own, only partially. I feel that I am NOT totally alone, NOT the only one having such inner-revelations, so I am attempting to speak for others, others who have no idea that I am speaking for them in some vicariously-mirrored manner, nor might not concur with anything I am discussing in this article as it relates to themselves. I’m just a simple antenna tuner, scribing whatever comes thru, on whatever frequency I am tuned into, respectively. None of this is ever scripted, pre-written, nothing like that. I write, in this case particularly, via pure stream-of-consciousness, only correcting grammatical errors & such, with an occasional, albeit minuscule, altering of the content. To you dear readers, continue on with these notions implied, with a warm please & thank you. Moving on to the article…
Truth…truth, yes, this amazing & almighty truth, this truth we all are acquainted with, is what I’m rambling on about today, to start, at least. We’re acquainted with said truth on various levels, to be sure, but in acquaintance with truth we are nonetheless. From birth it seems you’ve heard “tell the truth,” or “always be honest” or “never lie,” or some other well-articulated cacophony, which implies that life is illustrated in some virtuous manner in precisely accurate detail as to how said illustration ACTUALLY occurred, as it really is, rather than LARPing in the real world by exaggerating your own existence and/or making up your “life” altogether. This has become a serious problem in the now, year 2023, this year of the rabbit (according to the Chinese, which technically doesn’t begin until January 22), but I digress. Or…will 2023 manifest a different ending? Maybe the year of the death of the LARPer, or a new birth of some form of LARPing we’ve all yet to bear grim witness to? Things can change ENTIRELY within a year, believe me on this, so I suppose we’ll see soon enough, assuming we all make it to 2024 intact.
Some of us won’t make it unfortunately; some of us will not be here when January 1st, 2024, chimes in. Maybe I won’t be here, or maybe YOU won’t be here, or maybe we’ll both be here, or maybe neither of us will be here. No one really knows, do they? Nope, no one knows, & there’s so many potential avenues this clown car can haphazardly speed down, that it’s exceptionally tricky to speculate the future. Particularly because the “future” is being somewhat engineered by the powers-that-be in order to maximize THEIR gain, not yours. Nope, YOU are out, YOU were never even in, so to speak. I’ve told you, it’s THEIR club & if you’re in, you’re in, & you know you’re in when you are in fact…in. You do NOT know that, because you are not in, nor am I, nor is anyone else I know. Correction: there COULD be someone I know and/or have known along the way who might be in the Big Club, but I wasn’t aware of it. Nope, there’s the them, & there’s the us. Us, & them. We grossly outnumber them, they rule over us. makes ZERO sense, but that’s the game apparently. You’re either born into the in, or you’re shat out, into the out. Period. Is what it is, I had nothing to do with creating this monster, I was as clueless as most of you for a long time. Took time, red pill after red pill, endless hours diving into rabbit holes, doing my own research, & I am STILL awakening more each day. No no, do not blame me, the messenger, just a self-titled messenger…no, you must look toward your s-elected elitist leaders for the answers to your queries. Sadly, you will most likely NEVER get those answers, not if you wait for them to offer them to you, & you will end your days being out, voided back out into the big nothing, truly dust to dust, before the big memory eraser in the sky reboots your hard drive & you’re eventually re-uploaded back into this spiritual debt-slavery system as a fresh commodity to be bought & sold.
I mentioned in the previous post about the big Friday the 13th buzzkiller I experienced a few days ago. What a buzzkiller it was too…sheesh…smashed right in the forehead with the hard hammer of self-realization. The self-realization was that I am a nobody, a nothing, a talentless-doesn’t-count, if you will. If I disappeared, no one would care, no one would even notice, that’s how isolated from this humanity I have become. Not even sure what I did that was so wrong…maybe something I did in a past life is affecting this life, I don’t know. I don’t know anymore. I don’t anything about anything at all anymore. Doesn’t matter what I write about, doesn’t matter what my stupid art looks like, doesn’t matter what I say, how “good” and/or “bad” I might be, how I relate to a general populous so mired in mass hypnosis/psychosis that they can’t even critically think for themselves, no no no, NONE of that means a fucking thing upon having this self-realization I just spoke of.
Yes, it’s a tough pill to swallow. It fucking sucks to be honest, it really sucks ass to be born into a system of absolute debt slavery, right at the bottom. Especially….ESPECIALLY when your parents have ZERO inclination about this at all as a concept. ZERO. The “parenting” style of we Gen-Xers is a direct result of the “parenting” style we all incurred, for the most part. This style is simple, just stick the kids in front of a television & let the media raise them. This is arguably the foundation of LARPing. Gen-Xers grew up assuming that the way “life” that is portrayed on television is the way “life” really is, which is about as delusional as it gets. Regardless of this delusionality, this is the way it went. Then, the children of the Gen-Xers grew up in homes where their Gen-X parents already have been programmed by television, thus THEY are being programmed as well, but on a WAY more dynamic level. If you’re a Gen-Xer, imagine if you had had the Internet growing up. Now, REALIZE that their kids, the millennial generation, DID have Internet growing up, on top of all the mindfuckery that Gen-X was exposed to, & this is the new “coming up,” if you will. The great LARPer come-up, an entire generation poisoned with programming via social media and/or the digital age, as they say, but an entire generation sub-programmed below the initial programming done to their Gen-X parents.
Why am I mentioning all this LARPing & programming & whatnot, you might be pondering? Remember, this is pure stream-of-consciousness, & I am just a recorder/messenger/illustrator, albeit anything I babble about falls mostly on deafened ears & blinded eyes. We have to complete the circle as always, so we keep writing until the circle completes itself, & my serpent chows down on its own wiggling tail. Oh yes, I was circling back to truth. Although I began this with some pseudo-clause about me speaking via others, although only in a relatively vague manner, I am now going to channel this article I am perusing on another tab as I write. This is going to be a notable segue…so think of it this way: Think of this article as a major highway, an interstate even maybe. Some significant cross-country road of note, like highway 70 perhaps. Highway 70 goes coast to coast, longest highway in the continental USA, if I’m not mistaken, but nonetheless, this article began on that long highway…until. Until, I decided to take a random off ramp for gas & cigarettes, & some beef jerky maybe as well. I hope these loses analogies aren’t confusing but if they are, reread the paragraph & get back on board, because this car just took the exit ramp into Tangenttown. Tangentown is Kakfa-esque, as in you never know what secrets the sleepy town off the interstate might dangle down onto you from the darkness, like a rubber spider at a haunted house.
What if, & I am placing a YUGE emphasis on “WHAT IF,” but what if…what if all of this is an experiment? This is going to sound as paranoidly schizophrenic as it could possibly get, but not only “what if this is an experiment?” but also, “what if this is only an experiment on me?” I am the only one who exists in MY Universe, as far as I know, or as far as any of YOU know as well. YOU only perceive the world from YOUR vantage point, so only YOU know what is real to YOU. YOU cannot really speak for anyone else because as far as you know, everyone else could all be part of the big experiment. Hypnosis is real, is it not? People can be led to see/hear/perceive things that are not actually here in our shared world via the training of a professional hypnotist. What if chemicals were involved? Now, as this relates to this portion of the article, we will have to reference the LSD experiments of the 1950s & 1960s that ARE recorded FACT in this world we all seemingly share, but surely in MY own world, there is physically recorded & WELL-documented evidence that the CIA & probably other government alphabet agencies conducted these experiments on unwilling participants, dosing them with LSD to observe their behavior following the dosage. One such experiment of notable note, was the brothel studies, where the CIA would dose unknowing subjects with LSD, then observe them via 2-way mirrors while they conducted their business with the prostitutes, who were also CIA agents. Here is a link, so YOU can not only read for yourselves, but to also mitigate any pre-conceived and/or presently conceived notions that your humble author & narrator here is a total mental patient. Heres’ the link:
How will I segue this real-life series of events that, according to MY Universe, DID in fact happen, as recorded in the timeline of the history we all somehow share here in this world apparently, how will I weave that into my own warmth? That’s easy; I, ME, THE ASSHOLE WRITING THIS RUBBISH YOU ARE READING, am part of the SAME experiment, albeit a shadowy continuing experiment, that is NOT known to the public, but the SAME experiment regardless. The LSD experiments from 50-60 years ago that I linked to above, never stopped. In fact, the experiment not only continued, it expanded, it evolved, as it spread across the country, maybe even the world. Various “hubs” were established in strategic areas, while “dealers” were instructed as to how to distribute the LSD in order to best record the data from the now-Frankensteinian experiment. Part of the “new” phase of the experiment was to administer doses to adolescents. Oh no, no longer was the experiment only subject to unwillingly unknowing adults, but now they would record the results of LSD on a developing brain, a brain where the full-frontal cortex has NOT completely developed. Myself, my friends, & all of YOUR friends who did LSD as teenagers in the 80s & 90s, more-or-less were ALL part of this great experiment. That was 30 years ago, mind you. Additionally, the experiment would be life-long, so as long of a life as any of these subjects led respectively, would be the length of their individual data results as they fed into the overall results of this grand experiment, this most sinister of experiments in social engineering.
That’s what it all comes down to, social engineering. THAT is the part of the this game that us regular folks are seldom privy to. To them, to these so-called elites, that is their purpose per se. Not their only purpose obviously, but they generally have a centralized focus towards said social engineering, i.e. managing the human population of the planet unbeknownst to the human population being engineered, to ultimately benefit themselves, NOT the humans they are herding like cattle. Yes, like cattle, & I have mentioned this several times before, but one nuance to this cattle-herding are the psychological aspects, using words like “programming,” & “propaganda,”…sound familiar? Look back up to the top of the article. There’s one circularity, the programming…it’s even right there in that proverbial TV “Guide,” a list of “programs,” it’s all right there in front of you, it always has been. TV guides have been around since the 1950s & 1960s, coincidentally when these LSD experiments began, so let’s utilize those inner critical-thinking skills. Television is STILL programming, & much more so than it was 50-60 years ago. STILL programming, all of YOU, all of US, with television squared as the advent of the digital Information Age via the Internet has only magnified all aspects of this worldwide programming. Now, if the visual programming STILL continues, the physical programming if you will, what makes you think they ever stopped the psychological programming? Yes, of course there are psychological attributes to televised programming, but add the chemical element now, a physically chemical-based programming that is ultimately purely psychological, albeit consumed through physical means.
How many people do you know who are NOT on drugs? Drugs, drugs of whatever category, legal and/or illegal, those are just subjective words in the bigger picture. Who is the biggest drug dealer? No, nothing to do with dirty cartels in Mexico. Pharmaceutical companies, no question, the biggest dealer of drugs by far on a global scale. Okay relax, here comes the segue. Suppose it’s ALL alphabet agencies. Suppose the CIA, FBI, whatever acronyms they want to use, suppose they ALL have the same end goal, which would be complete social control, like I mentioned earlier. Control gives them the power, which is all these elites crave, this absolute power. Power over you, power over me, power over as much as they can take for themselves & their ilk. They are the social engineers, remember? Different game for them, remember? They also make all the rules, remember? Such a fair game, sounds fun, right? As you’re all out in the world, consuming, while working for slave wages at a job that does NOT amplify your natural talents, these social engineers are taking over the planet for themselves. YOU are just a commodity, a product, a number, & number that can always be experimented with, to obtain & ascertain certain desired results. In this case, those LSD experiments, they continue, to this very day, this very moment, STILL they are gathering data on this test, along with many others I’m sure, because this is NOT limited to hallucinogenics like LSD.
All of these “psych meds,” all of these “anti-depressants,” it’s ALL part of a worldwide psychological experiment, the SAME experiment, only segregated into various factions depending on the subjects, the chemicals used, etc. Not just drugs either, it’s the food, probably the water too. One cannot help but speculate that what began in 1950s has Lucifer-principled into this juggernaut of a planetary social experiment, we are all behest to in this modern age so to speak. Nothing stopped, why would it? Surely these social engineers did the math on the global population growth explosion that would ensue following the days of 50-60 years back. More people than ever, more data than ever, more control than ever, more POWER than ever. It ALL connects, ALL of it, only most of you are so bogged down in mass distractions & mass delusions & mass manias & mass psychosis & even mass hypnosis perhaps, all en masse, so swamped you can’t open your real eyes yet. They are immune, for they are the masters, according to them, but YOU feed them. YOU give them this power. Sadly, it’s too late methinks. Too late for me anyway, & others like me from my time & before. Just riding out the storm from here, myself & the others who are now KNOWINGLY part of this great experiment, this great psychological experiment in social engineering, this experiment they just dumped onto the populous like Back to the Future manure. Unleashed is a better word, by self-elevated human engineers. They are like mad scientists, thus psychopathic, thus why 99% of you had ZERO clue about any of this until you just read what I wrote. That’s the point, they don’t want YOU to know while simultaneously proclaiming that people like myself, & others like me who DO know, are mental. We are NOT sane, we are most often paranoid schizos, as denoted on their spectrum of insanity. Insane people, claiming I’m insane, & others like me are insane, are clinically mentally dysfunctional, & are terribly delusional…quite an interesting dynamic, is it not?
All of this would further imply that the experiment is happening right now. As I am typing, & now you are reading, someone and/or something is monitoring this, monitoring me, you, all of it. The AI has advanced along enough to maintain the incoming data in real-time, so that’s not difficult to conceive of, is it? Imagine, all of us, all of us plebs stuck in this great experiment of theirs, & being individually monitored, one by one, via the cameras & microphones we all carry on us and with us at all times more-or-less. Is it any more difficult to imagine than BILLIONS of people being convinced that a poison labeled as a “vaccine” would be distributed & consumed WILLFULLY by so many of YOU. Not me, I’ll never get jabbed, but most of you did, & it is what it is at this point. What YOU do from here is what matters, the past is long gone. That’s a whole other article to be honest. This whole Covaids scamdemic as it relates to the overall great social experiment, all conducted by the same social engineers conducting these psychological experiments? Why not? Why can’t it all be connected? Here’s another one: we NEVER landed on the moon, ever. Never went there, not people anyway. All a giant ruse, but still part of the same mass manipulation agenda. Again, most people STILL think humans went to the moon, despite the fact we haven’t been back in 50ish years, even though technology has advanced by leaps & bounds. Most of you still believe that nonsense when your own critical-thinking skills command otherwise. It ALL connects though, ALL of it.
Like I said at the get-go, this would be PURELY stream-of-consciousness. I am only channeling this as far as I know. I could just be running a program, something coded into me via the great programming, how would I know? YES, I very well could be totally insane & all of what I just described is simply my own HIGHLY-delusional madness. Oh damn, I almost forgot to explain how they got me into the experiment. If I am in fact totally mad, I should probably connect a few maddening dots, should I not, dear reader? I was already in it from birth, as most people are. Once the birth certificate is signed & you’re officially registered, it begins. Begins with parents, the first stimuli one encounters after arriving at port after birth. Technically, it can began with these nurses who delivered you to the doc when you were born. See how the words work there? Interesting. From there though, it’s the parents, the programmed parents beginning to program YOU with the programming that they were programmed with themselves when the programs began. Then it’s the television…still with the main group I was, all of us, all in this same great social experiment. It changed for me due to trauma though, specifically physical trauma. Head injuries due to parental neglect plagued my earliest childhood development. Now in retrospect, I fear those injuries were exceptionally MUCH more sever than previously assumed by my parents. One of baby boomer parenting’s main flaws is the false logic that ignorance is bliss. Anything that deviates from the normal is embarrassing to them & the unwarranted albeit necessary attention is socially detrimental to them as a respectable family unit somehow. They’re so delusional, & easily corralled, but it’s not entirely their fault, as they were programmed too. This is specific to my situation also, as everyone has a different story from their youth.
The first main deviation came from my head trauma, & a possible death I experienced around the age of 5 or 6. I fell face first into a flight of stairs. My parents were nowhere around, nowhere around an already accident-prone toddler, & as a result of their failure & my innocent folly, I put my top teeth through my bottom lip & needed immediate surgery. I think I died on the operating table. I have a distinctly vivid memory of floating over the table as they operated on me. The operating table was in the middle of an ancient Roman amphitheater. There were 2 doctors, a few nurses, & me watching with someone watching me watching myself, but I have no idea who it was. Whoever they were, I remember them being very comforting. Either I hallucinated that entire event under the spell of the drugs they gave me while I was being operated on, or that really happened. In my own mind, it definitely happened, but it was so long ago. Point of this ride down recollection road was that major surgeries like that have been reported on countless occasions to incur SEVERE developmental issues as the traumatized one grows into adulthood, especially when anesthesia is involved. After that experience, I had a fog in my head, a fog that stayed with me…for a really, really, really long time, only I was so used to seeing through the fog, I assumed it was “normal.” It’s certainly NOT “normal,” it’s terrible. So much time, so clueless, because the ones who allowed this terrible incident to happen me were clueless. Of course, it was MY fault somehow…clumsy kid, “accident prone.” Adults blaming kids, when now they let kids tell them what to do. It’s all so bizarrely absurd. A cycling of cluelessness, generation after generation, I don’t know. What I do know is however, is that I was NEVER the same after that accident. Never. Something was always off with me, something just not right up in my dusty attic.
Perhaps that is ultimately why they included me in the LSD experiments. I forgot to mention another catalyst. Teeth, yes your actual teeth, specifically the fillings in your teeth, ever wonder why we all have those? Kinda weird, isn’t it? Especially because many fillings have mercury in them, & mercury is toxic, right? Very strange when you just stop, stop in your own time & think, think about how & why, the big how & why, for me it comes via writing, maybe it’s different for you. It’s almost as if there were so many clues, so much of the game being given away, but the masses are so programmed, they don’t see it. I don’t know. I find myself saying to myself “I don’t know” a lot lately. I thought I knew, but maybe I don’t. Anyway, the fillings in your teeth, the television, the parental programming, the doctors, & all the while you’ve been monitored. One day, around the age of 16, maybe the monitors decided to include me into the LSD project. It’s as if the LSD just fell into my lap, it was so random, a random guy from Randomland just randomly had LSD for me. Didn’t know the guy, never met the guy, don’t even recall how I found the guy, but one day, there he was, with enough LSD to dose the whole county & surrounding counties. A totally random redneck with a mullet in a single wide trailer, in bumfuck rural North Carolina. Even though that dude lived in the sticks, he was still very close to the military bases there in NC, like within a few miles in any given direction. He could’ve had access at anytime to military tools connected with the CIA to monitor myself & my friends. Maybe he was the first monitor. Are they still monitoring me?
Both of my parental figures were military at the time too. Very interesting, isn’t it? Especially if I am correct about any of this, which I’m probably not, because that would be totally insane, wouldn’t it? Let’s continue the story. I am yet to meet anyone else in this life who has even come close to the overall amount of LSD I have consumed, not to mention various other hallucinogenics on countless occasions. Thousands of doses, way more than enough overkill data to collect, more than any “normal” human should consume. Meanwhile, everything I have done, monitored from the shadows by my assigned handlers. All my seemingly “random” experiences, all planned, all monitored, all my life. Yet, I am still sane enough to speculate all of this as a casual observer, illustrating this theory for all of you as if I am perfectly rational, at least I sound like I am, do I not?
Maybe I’m just a clever word pimp, stuck in his own self-loathing narcissism, super-severely brain-damaged. I can’t stand being around too many people, people in general bother me, I see patterns everywhere, patterns of all manner, figurative patterns and/or literal patterns, possibly just visual & auditory hallucinations. I hear other voices in my head that don’t sound like my own. I’ve heard them ever since the accident, & always assumed everyone heard other voices in their heads. Apparently, they do not. I am more-than-aware that I have clinically reported symptoms of the good ole paranoid schiztzies. Maybe I hallucinate, but to me it looks real, so I have no idea otherwise. Maybe I’m totally right about these diagnoses I just described, as they ascribe to myself. I’m not a doctor, I don’t really know much actually. My “given” talent is this, just this really, this writing you’re reading. I suppose my digital art too, if one could call that a talent. How can one’s own physically-illustrated imagination be a talent? What is a talent anyway? There should be a better word, yes? I do this effortlessly, is that what makes this my talent? If so, I spent 2 decades gathering data for my own social engineering monitors, while wasting my talent…THIS talent wasted, by not DOING this, by being distracted by distractions that were intentionally interjected into my life to distract me from MYSELF, in order to keep feeding the data collection harvesters. Why? Why me? Why am I seemingly stuck, stuck like a porky pig in this porky position?
It’s not as if I WANT to discover all of this, I just am discovering it. Like a treasure hunt for me, in a gold mine ghost town I won in a backroom poker game, I hold the deed. Maybe I am self-revealing myself to myself because I needed to at this time? Maybe the trauma from my head injuries is finally clearing up…so many head injuries, so much anesthesia, so much…missing, yes…missing, like it was taken from me, & kept obscured in a fog they created so I couldn’t see clearly with my real eyes. Here it comes; this is a big circularity, for this subject AND for this article. They, these monitors, MY monitors, might just be AI monitoring me by now. Maybe there are actual people monitoring me, or something that resembles a human, like something from the movie They Live perhaps, but I think it’s all AI now more-or-less. Humans are becoming less & less necessary, for these social engineeers anyway. The AI is their God now maybe, & like a God, monitoring me, monitoring you, unknowing humans in an unsanctioned social experiment being monitored & manipulated by higher powers Well, it IS sanctioned by them of course, but not by any of us, & since WE are the ones they are experimenting on, that kind of nullifies any sort of acceptable sanctioning, doesn’t it? Regardless, we are ALL being monitored, in real-time, thanks to the mass surveillance from your phones & computers & CCTV. The AI is well-advanced, much more than they’ll admit, & it’s helping them with the great monitoring in this great social experiment. The Covaids plandemic was just another facet, an especially beneficial one for them too, as they gathered so much useful data for them to KEEP GOING with the experiment. Why wouldn’t they? No one ever stops them, & without consequences, what do they have to lose, other than more data to help them KEEP GOING? All connected, all circular, but unfortunately, all in my head, just another mad delusion in my creaky upstairs nook, so bang on you silly little drummers.
What comes next? I’m guessing they’ll take the experiment to the next level, as if on cue. This was all planned, so they’re just following the plan, their agenda, the end game being Agenda 2030 for us. For them though, the end goal is immortality. Their plan, not mine, & also heavily-documented online, if one were brave enough to find the rabbit hole, then proceed to faithfully leap down into it. I’ve taken this flight with you all before, be sure to peep my archives. Clearly, I can keep going with this. Oh yes, indeed there is MUCH more I could add to this sordid story. You have only seen the part of the iceberg that the Titanic saw before it was too late. We could go much deeper into those murky depths, but as I have just hit 5000 words, I think I’m going to go ahead & squash this for now. This is not a manifesto, not a biography, not anything really, might not even be true, how bout them apples? This is MY world, & I am the Creator here, or at the very least, the head channeler for this drivel that oozes from the space between my neck & the sky.
The Friday the 13th buzzkiller happened, just like whatever else is happening, is just gonna keep happening. I cannot explain what IT is that is actually happening, but it is certainly going down, like a flushing toilet. Everything most of us have been told is a lie, usually a lie within a lie, as if two lies negate each other into a truth. Finally, there is my prime circularity, & the circle has completed for this rambling series of rambles. Pure stream-of-consciousness, very similar to pure gonzo, the two are certainly synonymous, yes? Complete the circle, find YOUR truth. This may or may not be mine, perhaps none of you, or us, will ever know, know the true truth, the truth of truths.
Until next time, be good. Or be bad. Or just be, be whatever, I really don’t care anymore. That’s YOUR world, not mine. The optimal route is to just be one’s self, but in a Clownworld filled to its own stinking brim with so many LARPers, the future seems to be growing dimmer by the day, along with the novelty of even BE-ing here at all. At least that’s the view in my wonky world of paranoia & delusions & shadows & echoes. Just another egg in the cuckoo’s nest, the nest where Murphy is the only truly sane one. Imagine that, being the LONE beacon of sanity in a stormy sea of insanity. The wind crashes & the waves howl.
Nothing matters with everything, as everything matters in nothing. Blah blah blahbippity blah, makes no sense at all. I’ve averaged 20 views a day here for the last 10-plus years. Do you honestly believe anything I say and/or will ever say will make any kind of pathetically minuscule difference whatsoever? This 3rd dimensional paradigm we are all stuck in here is NOT what YOU think, & it never was. In fact, it NEVER has been. Always them, & always an us. Masters & slaves if you wanna paraphrase that degenerate filth Foucault. I suspect it all will end in total collapse, but what do I know? Nothing, that’s what I know, only now I know more than ever. Nothing. Smack that behbeh Fresh Prince.
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 