What a day to be alive on Planet Earth. How’s your world treating you? I’ve been wanting to do something artistic with this nostalgic piano jingle from my youth for years. Every Gen-Xer knows this jam. I don’t know about the other generations, but we TV babies from Generation X are savvy on so much programming from the 70s & 80s, that most of us forgot to leave room for deeper thoughts. Television is meant to keep you in a hypnotic low-vibrational state, & millions of us middle-aged Americans were right on the front lines from birth. Luckily, & with my own strength via my free will, I shook off the decades of brainwashing & programming that mass media broadcasts have been using to control us for so very long. Many are still…STILL…unable to break free, especially with all of the programs available on various sites, because they’ll always be able to find something to watch, to keep them preoccupied from the world around themselves. It’s all part of the mind virus pandemic across the globe. Nonetheless, I’m not going to rant in this one. I just wanted to shoutout to my digital friends & our online weekend fiesta courtesy of my buddy, Piano Matty B, & his number two, Kyle Mac, who play dueling pianos for the best livestream in the business. We go Friday to Friday, like days, because as you might be noticing, time is speeding up, so do what you gotta do while you can do it. The world, like time, is fleeting, & people croak everyday in so many random ways, ending their time here in this 3d prison planet matrix. I wanna find the exit to this labyrinth. I want to level up. I want to enjoy the beauty of all of it. I will, I do, & I know. Such beauty, contrasted with the proverbial evil of man, but I’m not gonna pull the trigger anymore than that today. It’s late. I walked 10.5 miles today. I completed my tasks. I am tired. It’s time for sleep. More to come Fishheads, so be sure to stay tuned, as well as like, subscribe, comment, & share, in whichever order you prefer. Be the tender of your own garden. Become your Higher Self. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
Back in that proverbial saddle yet again after a brief hiatus. Much has happened, & continues to happen to yours truly as the days fly by like an eagle on meth. Weeks feel like days these days; it’s no coincidence, & NO, it’s NOT a phenomenon of aging. Time, the 4th dimension as we know it, is in fact, accelerating, for lack of a better term. I’ve covered this many times before, but much like water going down a drain, or a toilet flushing, the spiral accelerates as gravity pulls it into a vortex. The golden ratio is everything. Fibonacci is everything. Galaxies are spirals. We exist according to the space-time we’re relative to. As the galactic gravity pulls harder, the time spiral tightens, causing it to move faster & faster, so from our perspective, time, is most certainly speeding up.
Speeding up towards what though Dr. Fish? Great question, thanks for asking. The answer though, unfortunately, escapes me. If I knew the future, I’d be doing something else somewhere else. Sadly, I don’t, minus the random visions I see every few hours of “futures” that play out maybe…ohhhh…88% of the time. It’s something in my head, something that gets stronger by the day, as if I’m remembering something lost long ago somehow. I do not know what it is exactly, but I’m well-aware that something is drastically & dynamically advancing spiritually. In myself of course, but within others as well. Overall, we few are a scant minority. A “little boutique community” as my piano buddy says. Perhaps we really are the Chosen Ones. 144,000. The odds of winning that lottery are bigger than Powerball. How would you know? How would you truly know? One could easily be amidst some grand spiritual transformation like me, & be so overwhelmed that they immediately believe they are one of these select “chosen ones.” How could I be “chosen?” My life was a disaster up until fairly recently. I get better by the day with each step I take, but prior…yikes. The negative karma…ugh. The general negativity of it all…ugh. Then one day, I leveled up, & forgave myself for all that bullshit. It wasn’t me, necessarily, it was like an auto-pilot sort of thing. I’m certainly not shirking any responsibility on my part, because it was most assuredly me. However, I had to learn to stop blaming others, & then stop blaming me, & making the most of the borrowed time I have left. That’s all in the past, & to be present everyday in this 3d prison planet matrix is enough, much less dwelling on a past long-gone. Especially with the whole “time acceleration” bit I rambled about in the prior paragraph. Tick-tock, tick-tock, the relentless clock never stops, speeding up, speeding up now & again, tick-tock, tick-tock…🕰️
This video has a bio you can read below the video on Youtube, Rumble, and/or Bitchute, whichever site you prefer to view my artwork. This website is around 8000 pages long & ripe now; a compendium opus digital portfolio, my words, my art, my compositions, 12 years of content creation, all in one place. Search anything you want here in the “search query” tab, & something will pop up. There’s so many ways to go on this site, so much info, so much of my imagination, for all of you, & for none of you at all. Stay tuned my beloved Fishheads. More to come. My oven has been running…cook, cook, cooking illustrations directly from my subconscious onto my computer, then back into my brain upon manifesting themselves in our 3d timespace. It’s a unique niche, & as a pioneering producer of a style of digital musical artistic creations that’s unprecedented, I’m awed that I get to do this. Soon the real AI, the ultra-advanced quantum AI, will replace these various “community-friendly” AI services. It’ll be like the AI grew up. Fortunately, right now, it’s still like a youthful mind, with a child-like imagination, but these nascent days draw closer to a close with each passing moment. I am capturing as much of it as I can, while I can. People, as a whole, seem to take time for granted. It’s foolish. Ignorantly foolish. I am guilty of it myself, which I admit, & if I could get it back, I would. Luckily, I redeemed myself as a reborn child of Light & a warrior in the Grand Army of Source. Most go other ways. Some just don’t care, nor will they ever maybe. Who knows? Regardless, be mindful of the time you have left. No one else will be mindful for you. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
Click the link below to watch ALL of my videos on Bitchute & Rumble, respectively. Well, well, well…it seems I can post directly from Rumble with a thumbnail. That is what I will be doing from now on. Youtube squashed my channel for “cartoon nudity, ” which is fucking ridiculous. Do they ban Michelangelo? DaVinci? Dali? Nope…but FisH™…hosed…again. It’s all so God-damned tiresome. Nonetheless, I created a new YouTube channel, but as I said, all of my posts here from now on will no longer be connected to YT channel. WordPress & Rumble for the win. Fuck Google, & fuck those little rainbow-haired beta twerps who work there. Censor this fuckwads…(HonkNoise)
I create these creations in a human attempt to illustrate my subconscious imagination. There’s so much more in what I do than something as daft as “cartoon nudity.” Derp. Censoring the naked human body…STILL…in 2024…it’s bloody revolting, to say the least. It’s a grim reflection of a dumb-downed programmed Orwellian humanity. If you don’t bend the knee, they digitally exile you. NEWSFLASH: I will never…EVER…bend the knee to internet censorship. The ones pushing this nonsense should be outed, embarrassed, stripped of any power they’ve stolen, then thrown to the proverbial wolves. This year might be the most dynamic ever, as far as we know anyway. It’s all so fragile, all starting to boil, & someday soon the day will come where everyone must decide if they are a warrior for light, creation, virtue, & benevolence…or if they’re a minion slave of destruction, darkness, & malevolence. One cannot lie to their own heart, so you know where you stand. What will you all do when the power turns off? When a civil war pops off? When World War 3 starts? When “Election 2024” turns into Black Summer?
No internet, no money, no power, no gas, no nothing but whatever you prepared to have, should you choose to do so. Considering most of the general populous never even thinks about such introspective things, when society goes sideways , there will be relatively instant pandemonium, particularly in the cities. All these lazy fucks, these obese monsters, all the people glued to their phones, & their television screens, the ones still wearing masks…none of these clowns have the critical-thinking skills, much less survival skills, to continue to exist as they do, should the wiggly worm turn. How many random people know how to start a fire? How many know how to hunt? Fish? What about clean water? Nope nope nope….& nope. MILLIONS…millions will be so displaced that they’ll instantly panic & return to their lizard brain primal instincts to kill, steal, loot, riot, destroy. That’s the end game of all this…destruction. Destruction of the old human race, so the psychopaths at the top can rebuild their New World Order from he dystopian rubble that remains after they burn it all down. They want 7 billion…that’s right, SEVEN BILLION of us gone. As I’ve said for a decade, even before my spiritual Pandora’s box opened up, they want 85-90% of us gone…roughly 7 billion. They’ve been planning this for centuries, so if you are putting all your eggs into one orange basket with Trump, you might wanna stay mindful of what might happen if they remove him from the equation. Just saying. One man alone cannot stop these globalist pigs. They will either succeed, & burn it all down, or fail, & burn it all down. Either way, pending some Divine intervention White Swan Event, there’s the hell of civil and/or global warfare on the horizon, the likes of which have never been experienced.
Ultimately, we are in uncharted waters, & with each passing day, each passing week, we’re that much closer to a runaway train future. Enjoy each day that comes; take it all in day by day. Get yourself spiritually connected to Source, get yourself in shape, prepare your mind & body. Do not end up like the bloated walruses killing themselves every day with poisoned food & water & especially, poisoned minds. Most of them have no clue, & no hope. They only know consumption & destruction. They have their own sordid paths. My path is the golden one that leads back to Source, back to the 5th dimension, & maybe higher if Source wills it. Do you know Source? Do you know yourself? The time is now, because these tick-tock days are flying by, faster & faster, as the great 4d time spiral coils up into the next chapter of the future. Where will it go? Which way will it go? Will it all end? When will it all end? Who will survive? So many questions…questions with no definitive answers, unfortunately. I work for Source…some say it’s “God,” but the word “Source” seems to me to be the better word for Our Great Creator. Nonetheless, Source is who I follow, Source is who guides me, Source is my teacher, Source is the way to the big homecoming awaiting some of us who’ll make it back to the 5th dimension. Source is everything. Those who do not abide Source doom themselves to the Great Void of Absolute Chaos.
Without Source, there is the endless oblivion of nothingness. Blows my mind when people proclaim, “I’m an atheist.” Duh. Are you? Seriously? How can anyone walk outside, look around, look at the beauty of Nature, look at other people existing & doing their thing, whatever that thing might be. Creation, Space, Nature, & a fractional group of morons still openly puke out that there is no God. Derp. What a world…what a fucked-up backwards manipulated artificial 3d matrix prison planet we’re all stuck on during our own individual journeys through life. There has to be more than this…there has to be. There has to be some kind of key, a proverbial key, that opens the doors to one’s own greatest self-realizations. This world has been poisoning us since our births with food, water, pseudo-medicine, air…poison…so much poison. So many poisoned. Nowadays, we have poisoned people slopping around daily…by the millions, MILLIONS…arguably by the billions. Sleep, eat, shit, breed, work for shekels, repeat, & somehow these NPCs keep moving this insane machine along. What happens when the AI reaches singularity & makes humans obsolete? AI works 24/7. Ai doesn’t need breaks. AI doesn’t need a shitty taxed paycheck every 2 weeks. AI doesn’t need food, water, nothing, it’s just an unstoppable pinnacle of redundant work that menial, & mostly un-talented humans currently do for the aforementioned shitty taxed paycheck. A world of debt slavery…& most call it “life,” soon to be replaced by glorified robots. Quite disconcerting, to say the least.
I can keep writing. I can do this all day long. A few breaks here & there, but I can write & write & write like I walk, & walk, & keep walking. I just turn the nozzle to the “on” position, figuratively grab my bucket, fill my bucket with water from the Great Well, then throw the bucket into all of your faces as you read what I am typing at this moment in the now-past. Fleeting moments, fleeting minutes, fleeting time…it’s all fleeting, & running out faster & faster with each day that speeds by. I wish I had more answers for all of you. I wish I knew the secrets of the secret societies. They possess knowledge within themselves that none of us regular folks ever get to see. The Vatican, for instance, has an underground library with THOUSANDS of ancient books. No one is allowed to check them out unfortunately unless you rank high in these bloodline dynastic families who quietly control everything from the shadows. I think something outrageous like 98% of them have never been translated, & thus, never interpreted, as to discover what information about our true history might be revealed. There’s another place in Tibet…same deal. You can look, but that’s it, & by “look,” I mean you can look at pics of the books online but in real life, it’s verboten. Millions of pages of written past knowledge with appropriate illustrations, & they keep it all to themselves, never even giving the public a crumb. I hate this. I HATE THIS. I hate existing on an enslaved planet. I DESPISE unwillful ignorance. I want answers damnit & in fact, I demand them. We should be sharing truths, not hiding, suppressing, and/or manipulating them. So over it. I’ve learned to love myself as far as 3d existence goes, but these things I cannot control, this mental prison they throw us all into, this rule by fake blood money crap, these so-called “globalist elites,” all these destroyers should destroy themselves & leave us chosen ones out of the loop. Low vibration 3d matrix debt slavery supermax prison planet…& that’s “life.” Right…got it. Yes, I’m still shaking my fucking head…
Moving on to the end…I have a great book idea I am composing in my head, but soon to start taking form as I write it. Short book, my voice as the narrator, something to leave behind for the characters in a future far from now. All I understand anymore is creation…in the sense of Abel, pure organic creation for the sake of Love, as my individual homage to Source. He wants us to create, not to destroy. The world has become backwards, reversed & unnatural. Darkness crept in like a hungry virus & consumed a humanity so engaged with itself that most people don’t even notice what’s happening to them. Most people are living the Cainian way, the destructive way, the wrong way, & it needs to turn back before it’s too late, which I fear it already is for most of them. One more day closer, as I said earlier, one more day. One more beautiful day in Nature, as the artificial world of modern man sinks into the gassy swamps of its own soulless corruption. Day by day I go, day by day til tomorrow. Stay tuned fam, more to come. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
My latest creation for a band I’ve known since college, when they were another band named Art Lord & The Self-Portraits. They initially played house parties, & at a club called Peasants. Good times, such good times. What a trip college was, & although it was great in its own right, yours truly fucked off for a lot of it. Wasted years, wasted time, but sprinkled with a golden light, one that went out long ago & will never come back, not in this life anyway. What a shame. They shot off like rockets into stardom after changing their name to Future Islands, while most of the rest of us just ended up in respectively mundane existences, at least as far as my own perspective goes. Moral of the story: Do NOT waste your talents, especially on drugs & party-time. In the end, it adds up to nothing, except an eternal sense of unshakable regret. One could almost say it’s simply heartbreaking.
Nonetheless, those of us who are still here can create, & keep creating, because that’s really what it’s all about. Creating love, creating art, creating creative creations, whatever your bag is filled with, embrace it, because as long as you’re still breathing, you can still create. The root of this spiritual battle we’re all a part of, whether you acknowledge it or not, is to be virtuous, & to CREATE. Many are destroyers; many are ignorant destroyers, destroying without even realizing what they’re doing. The darkness is destruction, & the rising light of the Sun is creation. Creation versus destruction. Which side are you on? Anyway, enough of my rambling. As my readers might know, I can rant for page after page after page after page about anything & everything. Yes, this is a prison planet 3d matrix. Yes, we regular folks live in a different world than those who roost atop the proverbial power pyramid. Yes, we’re stuck here, & it seems there’s no way out other than to end it for one’s self. Unfortunately, & I may be wrong, I think that offing yourself is cheating, in a sense, leaving a lone soul one option, which is to do it all over again, under similar and/or possibly worse circumstances. If you’re in the water, you have to ride the wave, all the way to the shore. Otherwise, you have to paddle back out, again & again & again, until you finally flow with your own wave, all the way back to the Edenic beach we all hope for after this life is done.
Or maybe it’s all for not, & we exaggerate our own immortal existence in vain. I don’t think that’s the case, but it could be. I don’t believe in any sort of definitive “God,” but I DO believe we come from some kind of higher-dimensional entity, which I often refer to as “Source.” Evolution is bullshit, & here’s the singular reason why: If evolution were real, why do the creatures we supposedly evolved from, still exist? Why are crocodiles still around? Cockroaches? Creatures that have been the same for supposedly millions of years, are still around. What happened to their “evolution?” Much of what the human race has been programmed to believe, in my own opinion mind you, is just an abysmal quagmire of lies on top of lies, then sprinkled with more lies. It would be nice to know the real truth about modern human origins, wouldn’t it? Sadly, whatever that is, if known, is kept within circles that 99.9% of us are not granted access to. It’s exceptionally frustrating for someone like yours truly, who seeks truth in everything. The only thing I’ve come up with, is the notion I just mentioned, which is that the real truth, it’s kept from nearly all of us. There’s countless rabbit holes to dive down, many theories within the annals of the interwebs, but ultimately, there’s only ONE truth, ONE real reality, & we aren’t living in it.
We’re enslaved, enslaved to ourselves, enslaved to money, enslaved to self-ascribed “leaders” & so-called “elites,” WE ARE SLAVES. We’re slaves in a 3d matrix prison planet, & one of these days, my delusional optimistic self hopes for some kind of Divine intervention. Hey Source, where are you? Hey Source, why are we enslaved in such a manner? Hey Source, why is there so much chaotic destruction in this world? Hey Source, why are these globalist psychopaths herd us like cattle? Why is our enslavement allowed? Why? Maybe someday Source will answer me, or maybe I just don’t understand. I don’t know. It’s a surreal paradox, to get more confused as you expand your knowledge base. The more you know, the less you know, very paradoxical. Holy hell, I’ve done it again. Started with a few sentences, finished with an essay. That’s how I roll, as my readers/viewers know, & if this is the only light I have, it’s my responsibility to Source to keep going, keep creating, keep leveling up. This might just be a simple test, made to look like an unescapable labyrinth mouse trap, & the only way to free one’s self, is to accept the simplicity, catch your wave, & ride it back home to the 5th dimension. Or…or…it could all be in vain. Who knows? On that note, time to go my beloved Fishheads. I’ll post the lyrics for the video above below. More to come, stay tuned. The FisH™abides…🎏
Future Islands: Before the Bridge
I will walk you home and I will leave you there I’ll take the books you stole And leave the heart that bared this soul
I hope you have what you need (I hope the moon is listening) I hope you have what you need (I gave my soul, my body)
I hope you have what you need (I hope the moon is listening) I hope you have what you need (I gave you soul and body)
And if things hadn’t changed I would have buried you deep in my arms And if things had stayed the same I would have carried you as far as the stars
Whatever has us know I can’t forget somehow For to forget a love is to regret And what is love is regret And what isn’t love is a test
And if things hadn’t changed I would have buried you deep in my arms And if things had stayed the same I would have carried you as far as the stars
Do you believe in love? Do you believe in love? Hold your tongue Hold your tongue
Whatever has us now I can’t forget somehow For to forget a love is to regret
Written by: William Cashion, John Gerrit Welmers, Samuel Thompson Herring
Geez Louise, is there any place that WON’T ban me?…fuckin hell, this is outrageous. I can’t say anything anywhere anymore, & people think that only China erases people. Fuck no, it’s already in the West, & since I am my own living example, I can assure you, it’s very real. Honestly, this isn’t even the bad times, I know, it sucks ass, believe me I know, but despite how bad it may seem, the roller coaster is still boarding. The worst is yet to come for sure, & dumbasses like me who have a virtually nonexistent credit score because it’s so low, you can believe that when the real Chinese-style credit system comes in to this once-great country, as the USSA quickly degenerates into a 3rd world communist hellhole, it’s going to make living impossible, unless you do some kind of side-hustle, & it better be lucrative, because everything is on the line if you get caught. The beginning of the real end is upon us. This world of 8 billion people is simply too many, according to those ruling elites of course. As soon as the AI has the ability to do what any average human can do, the slaughter will begin. I bring all of these things up, because Reddit, of all places, has systematically banned me from various “communities,” for just posting my articles from here onto there. I thought Reddit was all about open-discussion, but apparently, it’s a bunch of digital cliques, & obviously there’s some cool ones too, but one after another, they keep booting me, & now I’ve been warned that if it continues, I’ll receive the dreaded “banned-for-life” violation, & then Reddit can join the club with Facebook, Twitter, GIPHY, Bitchute, WhatsApp, & I’m sure there’s some app and/or site I am missing, not to mention being shadowbanned everywhere no matter where, but you get the point, yes? Exiled from 3d prion planet world, banished from the digital world, what world is left for me to go to? The after-world? Where do you go when there’s nowhere left to go?
If I had enough money, I’d go live in The Salton Sea for a month or two, just to get completely away from any sort of Hunger Games-ish society, before it’s too late to go anywhere anymore. What happened to this world? It started out with this amazingly innocent light magic, then over time, darkness corrupts that brightly beating heart until it dies, & never beats again. It’s not a life of “living,” it’s a life of dying, “life” is an oxymoron in itself, & when I look around & bear witness to how quickly society is backwards-walking in some kind of neo-devolutionary state, degenerating in real-time into their primally savage instincts. Not to mention, plugged into their phones like zombies, as intended, but beyond that, notice how many people just go out in their pajamas these days? It cannot just be me, & I know, this phenomenon is widespread…this bizarre notion to wear out in public, what you wear around the house when you laze around. What is happening to this culture, this global culture, it’s just so upside-down, & I lived through it/am living through it in real-time & it’s like some kind of dream because it feels real, physically, but mentally, it’s all so maddening, it’s so unnatural, just to back up & look at the entire machine as a whole, it’s utter madness that this whole thing continues to steam roll ahead, straight into a one world order technocratic future dystopia. It’s them, & us, as I’ve said ad nauseam on this site, & they, are intent on starting over essentially, with all of the ultra-technology being developed behind the scenes, with help from a “sentient” AI, with 7 billion or so of us, us “regular folks” out of the way, to live on a new Earth, one where all of the “royal” bloodlines live in a utopia, & those of us who survive the Great Holocaust, will be in a constant survival mode, just to eat, just to live. Like I mentioned earlier if you think it’s bad now, just wait. It’s not what I want, obviously, but the pragmatist in me sees the course ahead of the Great Snowball, & it’s going to get bumpy. Until next time dear readers, how does one prepare for a future in which they have already been excluded from? I mind my own mind, so perhaps mind yours. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
I’m just going to answer this one because it’s easy for yours truly to answer, & that answer is: When you have no parents, what “traditions” are you supposed to be keeping up with? When you’re born a bastard black sheep, that never fit in, then burned in the fire, what is there that’s so sacred to uphold, much less any sort of traditions? Unfortunately, it wasn’t a virgin birth like sweet baby Jesus supposedly had, no, for I was most likely tricked into this world, then they all left me, in every way possible, be it death, abandonment, a tornado of dysfunctionality, it doesn’t matter, as the same answer applies, which again, is when you have no parents, how are you suppose to uphold said traditions that involve removing you from the equation? Pffft…you don’t, & you struggle through a life on enslavement on a prison planet all alone. We all die alone anyway, right? Fuck it. In the wise words of Forrest Gump, “That’s all I have to say about that.” So sayeth FisH™🎏
Incidentally, as I was just about to publish this, I had yet another vision. It was a time back in the 5th grade or so, & I was alone after school, as always, because despite every other kid in the world at that age having a place to go after school, yours truly didn’t have shit, so I’d clean up this little stupid church I went to school at for a fucking can of coke, then wait for hours until I was picked up. They let you grade your own papers under an “honor code,” & because I had no honor, or concept of honor, I gave myself straight-As all the way through, & never even really did the assignments at all. Yep, I remember one day, one vivid day, when I was by the dumpster, wondering about what I would do when I grew up, not realizing that I’d still be throwing garbage in a dumpster after work over 30 years later. I thought of a kid I knew, in jail now, prison, to be precise. He ended up being nothing, not a God-damned thing but a reject, exiled from society, banished for not following the “rules,” with debilitating mental disorders, & trapped in the body of a giant. Oh to think of the old times, the salad days, all that time between now & then seems like a flash, because unlike most, it didn’t mean a fucking thing, to anyone. Just in, then out, & it’ll be as if we was never here. What difference would it make if we went today, or tomorrow, or a month from now, a year, 10 years, 50 more years? It wouldn’t, & that’s about as humble as one can be, to realize they’re nothing, never were anything, nor ever will be anything, & this entire trip through prison planet Earth was an incredible waste of my time. That stupid little kid at the church dumpster those many years ago…such a stupid little fuck, so naive to the real ways of this wicked world. Way to eat your own tail you wretched serpent. The extent of my pseudo-talent, eating my own tail, in words, in actions, in everything, & someday, hopefully, I’ll eat my own head off too. For all of you, & for none of you at all.
I wish I knew what these dreams that I am having mean. They are just so real, so real that I don’t want to come back here to this wicked 3d waking world. I am totally somewhere else, with people I know, & know well, in places I know, & also know well, yet I have never been to these places or met these people ever in the “real” world. What is “real?” In these dreams, these places & people are more “real” than in this world, so again, what does “real” even mean? I have tried & tried & tried to find answers via my own research, & it seems that I am alone with this, because I cannot find anything helpful information about what these dreams I am having mean. One would think that there’d be at least one, ONE other person that has written about these things, & if any of you can find that person, or ARE that person, please comment below. Not holding my breath though, & I don’t need a safety blanket, because these dreams & visions are happening so often now, I have no question as to the fact that it IS definitely happening for some reason. I just like information, reasonings, definitions, meanings, but as with everything else in this world, I will have keep digging my own El Chaponian tunnel until I dig up the truth.
Some kind of vehicle, like a Segway, or a 4-wheeler maybe, liminal school, the buildings, the hallways, the rules, gah, it’s fading fast, where was I? There was a girl, was it the girl? The hallways, those endless concave hallways, concave from my fish-eyed eyes, or from the curvature of the globe we all stand upon, who knows? It’s all faded so fast now. Gah, when they fade, they fade like a sunset at the very end. Seems like it’s taking awhile, then at the very end, it just drops below the horizon for the night. Sometimes I catch them, sometimes I don’t, & if I do not write them down immediately, the timer begins. What I DO recall, however, is waking up, waking up back back here on prison planet, again, & being disappointed, you could say, once again, that I was pulled away, soul-sucked away from that place, & those people, before being able to adequately map it out. Don’t get confused, I don’t want to go to sleep, & not wake up, not yet anyway. I just want more time there, more time to roam around, to explore, to understand, & those kinds of things. The fascination with the notion that I somehow know these people, these places, & I understand it all, is arguably possessing me, in a way. It can’t mean nothing, because if it did, none of THIS would mean anything, considering how it seems just as real as this world, more so even. One difference is that at least I remember things from the dreams in this world, because when I am in my subconscious dream state, when I am there, I have ZERO recollection of being in this world at all. None.
I feel like I had a better inkling of how to illustrate this most recent one, in a much better manner, but damn if I haven’t forgotten most of it. There’s flashes, little pictures, but the plot, the premise, the people, wherever I was, it’s as gone as a passing storm. Doesn’t matter, I know I’ll go back, but when, when will I go back? I have no control, no control over these visions, these dreams, and/or any other abilities that I occasionally get little tastes of. Just surface-level abilities that all humans should know like second nature, yet we don’t, not anymore. What have the dark ones reduced us to? We’re one math problem above the apes; how has it come to this, how has humanity sunk this low? Yours truly included, I’m no smarter than any of you, quite the contrary in fact. If I didn’t have this, these parlor tricks with words, what would I have? Or these dreams, these visions, is that even anything out of the ordinary? What else would I have? I can’t find anything/anyone else who is having these experiences, & not from lack of looking, rest assured of that. I can’t enhance my lost abilities, only make the most out of the bread crumbs into a loaf. I’ve been up past the witching hours, every single night, until 5am or so, & then passing out as the shining Sun comes up, lucky to sleep until 9am. Within that time though, these dreams come, these epic sagas in my subconscious. Do you ever wonder if you are dead, but do not know it? I had the thought cross my mind, not more than a week ago, so I looked it up, & this is what I found:
Yes, after reading that link, I figured I was still alive, unless it’s a really elaborate trick to pop up a website “reassuring” me that I am not. Wouldn’t surprise me, hardly anything does anymore. Doesn’t matter, dead or not, I’m still stuck in this waking world of 3d artificiality. Funny how the internet never pops up in my dreams, because the internet is the AI, “artificial intelligence,” in an artificial reality, just like cell phones, & money, none of these things appear in dreams, because they’re all artificial constructs. Even cars, now that I think about it. Do I ever see cars in these dreams? I’m not sure that I do, even though there was some kind of ATV type vehicle in that last one, it was definitely not a car. If we could truly fly, like the angels do, like I have in many of these dreams, as easy as walking, we surely wouldn’t need cars, would we? More artificiality, oh, another one, power lines, or electricity as we know it, never seem to notice it, because there’s abundant amounts of free energy that we should all be able to tap in to. Tesla knew about it, & Edison & his cronies in Washington shut it down. Free energy means no power bills, & we can’t have that now can we? They have taken a lot more form humanity than most people can fathom. Most seem to have no idea as to the true powers we humans once possessed, before our DNA was deactivated, & essentially destroyed, & there doesn’t appear to be any surefire way to RE-activate it, or to give it some juice, for lack of a better term. Maybe for the young ones, the kids, there’s a chance, & perhaps that’s why the so-called “ruling elites” do terrible things to children, to get their DNA power. The level of degeneracy amongst a certain fringe minority of the adult population across the globe, in regard to what they do to children, is absolutely demonic. Please God in Heaven, if you’re still up there, make sure these evil vile soulless humans who do those things to the children receive a special level of eternal torture when they get to Hell, if any of that is even real. Forgive me for my doubts, I just read a lot of things that seem to offer countless variations of what does/does not happen when one ends their time here on Planet Earth. The world seems to be controlled by wickedness, & the people in power positions atop the Great Pyramid appear to be soulless. What’s that all about? None of the makes sense. Everything here appears to be backwards & upside-down. Asking for friends too. We just want some answers. Enough is enough is enough. Humanity is tired, tired of being enslaved. That is all. So sayeth FisH™🎏
Ohhhhhh…what else did I listen to on my travels across the once-great USA? So many different things, but oh, here’s one, a really good one; I listened to a bunch of Jordan Peterson interviews, & I must say, they just seem to get better & better, particularly this one. First, I’ll link the trailer below to the movie discussed in the interview, Sound of Freedom.
Starring the ever-dynamic Jim Cavaziel, who played Jesus in the Mel Gibson epic, Passion of the Christ, yet another exceptional role was not only captured with artistic perfection, Jim was arguably born to play this role as well, due to his unrelenting faith in Christianity. Keep in mind, as you continue, I have NOT watched this yet, but the nearly 3-hour long interview filled in the story very meticulously, as well as encouraged me to watch this movie as soon as I have time. The interview summarizes the actual story, the actual horrifying story, of Tim Ballard, who is also in the interview, & his God-bestowed mission to save countless innocent children from a global network of sex slavery. I know, it’s beyond revolting to even think it’s real, isn’t it? Millions, MILLIONS, of kids, sold into sex slavery, & if you think the Devil isn’t real, watch this interview, & of course, watch the movie. I’ll link the interview below:
Prepare to hold your heart in your hands as you listen to these 3 great men discuss the nature of child sex-trafficking, which is sickeningly prevalent, & Tim’s efforts to stop it, often as a one-man force. The interview details his initial recruitment into the CIA, after the 9/11 attacks, & then his initial roles as an operative sent in to capture known traffickers of children, CHILDREN, integral within a worldwide network of pedophilic monsters. It’s so disturbing to listen to, especially the way these traffickers are so casual about what they do. How the fuck can people do such things? Ugh, it’s just utterly heartbreaking, as you’ll hear for yourselves, when you listen to the interview. Jordan does an impeccable job balancing out the questions as the dialogue seamlessly flows between these three men, detailing the motivations, the support received, & of course, the subsequent arrests made on behalf of the work done by Tim Ballard to put an end to what is arguably the most heinous crime able to be committed by purely evil men. Truly, there must be a special place in hell for these sick fucks who do this to kids. I even shed a few tears just listening to the stories he told; yes it was that bad. The good in these men counterbalances the evil that Tim illustrates as he narrates his story as to how the Sound of Freedom was made. Many good people, GOOD, God-fearing people came together to make this film happen, men such as Glenn Beck & Tony Robbins, but it was Tim’s wife who told him that when the day comes to meet his Savior Jesus Christ, how would he answer Him if he didn’t put his entire life into rescuing these poor kids from these pedophilia rings? Tim listened, & now he has found some salvation by exposing the world to the grim reality of what these networks do to children in the shadows. It is quite an interview, & once I have a chance to watch the movie as well, I will do an update article on my own takeaway upon viewing it. Until next time dear readers, watch this interview, despite the subject matter, because it’s a MUST WATCH for those who fight the good fight in a world gone askew. So sayeth FisH™🎏
Getting older, it’s something we all must do, despite an eternal soul, an eternally youthful soul, as these fragile meat suits eventually whither like a fallen fig, & then it ends. Do you remember where you were before? Do you recall this existence when you dream? No, you don’t, at least yours truly doesn’t, so I can only surmise that when I exhale that last breath, & all the jelly beans in the jar have been eaten, I won’t recall any of this. That’s a bit disconcerting, is it not? Geez, all this time, while we exist within this 3d matrix prison planet, then just POOF, gone, as if it never happened. All those anxious anxieties, all the stressful stressing, the short days & the long nights, the magic of music, all the treasures collected, all of it, just gone, as if it never happened at all. Of course, I don’t know for sure that I won’t remember, as I am simply basing this bittersweet assumption on the notion that I do not recall where I was prior to being born here, & as I said, in dreams, this “life,” if one can boldly call it that, simply has no relevance. No, in dreams, we go to some other place, some outer-dimensional realm, that I have feverishly & desperately attempted to map, before the recollections of whatever I dreamt began to fade like a sunset as soon as my tired eyes awaken back here in the waking world, so to speak.
Is this life a purgatory of sorts? Is it a test, or perhaps a punishment, like a Saturday detention for acting the class clown for the sake of some cheap laughs from the other students? If it is the former, then what are we being tested for? Prior incarnations that we cannot recall? Hard to pass a test, if you don’t know what the grading system is, or what you’ve done to earn said testing, isn’t it? if it’s the latter, how can we be punished for something we have no recollection of doing? The Universe, in its perfect design, must know what it’s doing, right? If so, then I suppose there can be no better manner of leveling up one’s soul to a state sufficient enough to please the Great Creator, than this, a life of karmic chance, holding onto a candlelight in the darkest of night, waiting for the dawn to come again, for Source to shine its omnipresent glow upon a sullen face, drawn & wrinkled after a lifetime of comic tragedy. We gain, only to lose it all, for we take nothing with us, except the light within, that Divine spark, given to us when we breathe in our first breath from a God that appears to forsake us all right after. At least, for yours truly, He hath forsaken me, but only because I forsake Him, long long ago, screaming through the trees, like a howling banshee, so young, but so old in the body of a child. Why did I do that? Why did I do that?
I have no answer, & I gave no offer of an olive branch, for I only gave unto myself, with no thought of creation, only savage destruction. It’s easy to destroy, the darkness makes it easy, so simple to facilitate destruction. One must only light a fire, & watch the dry forest burn into a maelstrom of tornadic infernos, yes, to destroy, is as easy as the finger to the match-tip, but to create, now that takes something, doesn’t it? Creation is a combination of dedication, passion, & strength, the strength to wield a fiery sword of righteous virtue, for the sake of manifesting what was once not in front of you. To manifest, is only the beginning, & then one must embrace perseverance, to watch in wonder, as the tree grows from sapling to a mighty oak, branches stretching toward the heavens, as an homage to the Creator Himself, roots firm in the earth, needled arms outstretched to the Sun. The tree must be nurtured, tendered, kept clean from the many bugs & parasites & invaders, come to destroy what one has birthed. The destroyers, those killer destroyers, as I spoke of, relentlessly chasing the innocence, burrowing in every exposed pore on the soft skin, like a cancer, these rotten decayers. Oh yes, it is as a task given to a new employee, to destroy, but to create, takes the seasoned hand of a master woodworker.
My my, my mastery of the hand has evolved into some new creature, a creature that once crawled, yet now runs, like the poor man that ran the first marathon, only to deliver his message, then die at the feet of those who were waiting for the mail to arrive on time. I suppose I must write write write, writing as much as I can whittle, into my own great tree, like the initials of young lovers, before a time comes where the ease of which these words word themselves, leaves me, & my hands turn from red to blue to at last grey, then back to bones, & then to dust. What a self-surreality, to ponder the leaving of the suit, this suit of pumping blood & church organs, pipes to the ceiling, bellowing out life & love & sacred geometry, imperfectly perfected in the image of a Creator we never see, yet heard in the whip of a wind that always blows the trees, dancing side to side as they do. The time has now come once again to wrap this up. Until next time dear readers, find a tree, your own Giving Tree, rest your bare feet upon its roots, touch the tree, ground yourself, become One with the Earth, & the Creator, Source. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🎏
“Find yourself a Giving Tree, & become one again with Source.” Fish F Fish 🎏
I spent an entire day driving, 18 hours straight through, from Colorado to Ohio, just my cat & I on the open American highway. We paid no attention to the news, spending a lot of that drive time listening to one of my favorite books, On The Road, by the great Jack Kerouac. Although I’ve read it a few times, there’s always something, some little nuance, that I missed prior, but I catch when I read or listen to it again. What a time it was, in this once great nation, what a time to be alive, in the era that that book takes place, post-Great Depression America. Ha, I hate saying “that that” in a sentence, but sometimes it’s necessary I suppose, albeit literarily atrocious. Regardless, back to the book, & as I was saying, the journey that the main character Sal Paradise experiences, or rather a series of journeys, it was all such a different time, when the heart of this country was beating like a anxious adolescent, a whole life ahead of him, full of unlimited possibilities, rather than the aged time-worn heart of a dying old man, as it is now. I thought of this as I drove through Nebraska, then Iowa, particularly when seeing the endless sea of windmills windmilling in the night, with red lights attached to all of them, flashing in sync, like an EKG machine, attached to a terminally-ill cancer patient. How sad, it broke my heart watching this surreal scenario, in the dead of night, as the Full Buck Supermoon illuminated the ground below, as big as I’ve ever seen it. Oh the brilliance, oh the woe, how did it all come apart? How did the empire fail, then fall? What happened? Where did it all go downhill? What happened to that young heart? Did it grow old, as do we humans? Did it die from a broken heart?
Strangely enough, in the book, the character of Old Bull, who has to be William S. Burroughs, he predicted this current storm of modern-day slavery, this one we are all swept up in. “Bureaucracy,” he spoke of, THIS bureaucracy, nascent back then, yet has now evolved into this God-damned infernal machine, an enslavement machine, yes sir, he called it, nearly 80 years ago, EIGHTY YEARS AGO, with such an eerie precision, it was so surreal to listen to, rather than read, as I plowed through the moonlit night, ironically hitting a deer carcass with my car, just as that part of the story began, as if a sign from Old Bull himself to pay close attention to what he was saying, ribs & blood & minced meat organs, flying into the bugs covering my flood lights. How did he know, so long ago, how did he know it would come to this? Man, he had such a brilliance, & such a penchant for morphine, which yours truly knows all too well as well. Those sages of yesteryear, where are they now? I can feel them, hear them as they speak to me, in every word I type, in every word you read, I listen to them, as if their respective old ghosts are mentoring me, carrying me in an angelically comforting manner, & yours truly is but the scribe, one keeping their spirit alive, along with the spirit of this terminally sick nation. Of course, it’s not only me, but there are seemingly, & unfortunately, a lot fewer of us, then there are of those who are accelerating the death of America. There’s the compliers, complying with their 9 to 5 manically mundane schedules. There’s the uninformed, blissfully ignorant, programmed by television broadcasts. There’s the wheel-turners, the various gears & mechanisms that paper-push numbers, like human abaci, one step to another, step one to step twenty-seven, instruction manuals for the aforementioned machine. Have you ever seen the movie Brazil? It’s a bit like that, a bit like all of those dystopian novels & films, set in future times that mimic the now-time, this tempestuous time we are currently existing in, all of them, compiled into this chaotic mess of a pseudo-reality that was not intended by the Great Creator. People often wonder where God is, & I wonder, if I were God, would yours truly still stick around to watch his own failure fall from this precipice we are all teetering on, as the first rocks begin to tumble down the mountain? Or would I turn away, holding my head in my hands, wondering where it all went wrong, & why?
Yes, as would He, I would let it fall, my city swallowed by Satan, like some modern-day Pandemonium, such as the one illustrated in John Milton’s Paradise Lost. I should do an article on that, & ONLY on that, no, I NEED to, it’s a must, that great epic poem, arguably the most savvy ever penned, as far as blank verse goes anyway, for if I don’t do it, it might be lost.(pun unintentionally intended) The game of this art, the subjective relativity of the words, MY words, if I din’t have this, what would I have that I could call my own? Material possessions are only borrowed, but words, these words, can live forever. Oh those authors of old, those long-dead heroes, MY heroes, my sages, my muses, wings dipped in gold, our poured molten into our mouths like an ancient Roman execution, all rolled into a singular spirit, a lone inspirational soul that goes beyond words, & yours truly, like a used-car salesman, so keen to just be in the same building, to speak as they spoke, as though I was invited. Art, true art, is a most beautiful thing to behold, to be created, other than babies mind you. To create a baby, to breathe life into another through the act of sexual congregation, is a Divinity unto itself, blown upon us by The Great Wind. In this world though, it escapes some of us, as we live tortured lives, just to exist through this maelstrom of a life, & the thought of bringing another one of ourselves into this square-dance party, it just isn’t an inclination we embrace, nor abide. It’s a continuous re-examining of the purpose of all of this, a geometric proof we cannot prove, despite our own awareness of the rules of the game. I wonder if it was so dreadfully draining back in those olden days, such as era Americana circa the early 20th century. I really enjoyed audio-booking On the Road again, it was much needed, particularly since I traveled on those same roads that Sal & Dean did, so long ago. The imagery of it all, the life within it, it’s just…perfect, & Jack Kerouac, despite killing himself by drinking to death, for that brief moment in this tornado of time, he caught it, he caught that big fish, & reeled it in. I too, have the demon of a slow-suicide within me, pushed along by the tugboat of borrowed time, until the sting of the hornet gets me as well, falling on my own sword. Nonetheless, I got to know them though, know them all, as well as one can know the long-dead, as brothers, in my own way, a way that bounces on the bubble of space & time. Thank God, if nothing else, I’ll always have that, souls stirred inside of mine own, their souls, swirling in the Great Whirlwind with me, & when the time comes that I exhale my last breath, I’ll swirl with a smile, for we shall be together again, maybe in heaven, or in hell, or wherever one goes once this rodeo ends. All of us, we eternal warriors of the written sword, will have a reunion, & laugh at the feverish folly of it all. Until next time dear readers, don’t let the spirit inside yourselves die, even if it falls. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🎏
“Don’t let your spirit die, even if the bastards kill it.” Fish F Fish🎏
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 