No colors in the cybernated standish today, just black & white…as the paint fades…(enter the piano)…leaving only ebony, & ivory, “in perfect harmony,” as Paul & Mike might say, now fade fade fade out the colorama…
Despite my previous post, which CLEARLY exposed the pre-production of this Titanic sub event that was broadcast, cast broadly, like a spell, most of you STILL believe that fakery really happened, don’t you?…& with the mainstream news juggernaut STILL programming you all to believe that scripted events such as these are real, one could see why, right? Oh, it all looks so real, so really real though, right? Quite convincing, yes, as convincing as the magic of Hollywood, isn’t it?
Yours truly has fought like a hungry rabid lion trying to wake you people up to the Titanical depths of the fake news mainstream media Operation Mockingbird control machine(pun intended). Yes, that’s right, this narrator has fought, & fought, & fought, wielding my pen until the ink ran dry, attempting to awaken you all to the Great Deception of this pseudo-reality, & what do you most of you do?..you do nothing, other than accept it, & continue to comply. What else is there to say? Does it even matter? Nope, it doesn’t mean a thing, not a God-damned thing. Degenerate faggots are waving their shit-covered sodomite cocks in the faces of children, OF CHILDREN, at their sin-fest pride parades, & no one does a thing about it. Oh sure, there’s a fringe group of us that put out the messages, trying to raise awareness, denouncing what should be be denounced by all, but the sad truth is, that most of you do nothing. You don’t don’t seem to see/hear anything, other than what keeps you in a state of perpetual bliss. You just turn on your televisions, stay in your houses, consume consume consume, & then call that “life,” but people like yours truly are deemed the crazy ones, the ones who are out of line, we thought-criminals. When the bell finally tolls, & they come to wipe most of you out, rather than me getting the final “I told you so,” I’d rather trade it all just so that you people would wake the fuck up. You won’t though, the so-called “ruling elites” will fulfill their agenda, & everything you’ve all slaved so hard for, will be wiped away from their future history, like you never even existed.
I’ll be wiped away as well, of course, probably long before the end comes, because statistically, I should already be dead, like most of my friends. Just a matter of time, of borrowed time, before the final breath finally exhales, tainted with the sweet stench of my last smoke. I’ll leave a bill, a bill for a funeral & an urn, because a coffin is a waste of money. If you’re dead, who cares anyway? Throw me to a den full of necrophiliacs, or a pack of wolves, or into the ocean, chummed red with the blood of fresh fish, as frenzied sharks circle around & rip this lifeless body to pieces. Once you’re gone, you’re gone, & as it is in dreams, you have no recollection of even existing in this God-forsaken prison planet matrix, but my verbal epitaph, my final self-eulogy from yours truly to all of you is simply this: DO NOT GO INTO THE LIGHT. If any/all/none of you can somehow retain that little quip when it’s your respective turns, carry it with you, & abide it, because if you ignore what I say, & foolishly let yourself go into that bath-warm bliss, you will get recycled, & end up right back here in this 3d soul-trap, only to once again feed the beast via a tortured life of enslavement, which ultimately falls upon YOU, not the aforementioned Beast, the Great Recycler. Willfully going into the light, puts it all on YOU, & that’s the trap, that’s the trick from the Great Trickster, because by going into said light, by thine own accord, the Beast bears no guilt, & thus, bypasses God, & keeps the Great Mouse Trap full of souls, who do it again, & again, & again, until the end of time.
Or…maybe yours truly is absolutely insane, these thoughts are utterly delusional, & there’s no hope left for these fiery flying fingers. Either way, who cares? Your narrator here is only one, ONE soul, out of billions & billions of souls, all trapped, one way or another, within this inner/outer-dimensional 3d hell, way way wayyyyy down from whence we once were, leveled up in 5d, & maybe beyond that too. The 5th dimension is only the next bus stop, spatially, & then the 8th, then the 13th, possibly the 21st dimension, but beyond that is a kind of chaos that even a 13th-dimensional entity might now comprehend. This 3d human experience is as low as consciousness can possibly go, & if we were anything lower, we’d be the equivalent of a perfectly flat rock, with no volume, just flatness in flat world with no space to conceive of anything, anything at all. I bet none of you thought this article would take a sharp turn off the proverbial exit ramp into this town, did you? It’s as yours truly always says, we only turn the dial, left, right, a little more left, now back to the right again, until the static becomes the sacred geometry of a frequency that can be hooked, then bled it out, gutted, decapitated, filleted, & served up raw for all of you, & for none of you at all. “Just the way it is,” right?, as my favorite un-favorite saying goes. Maybe someone will write that pukeworthy defeatist expression on my tombstone, or the first nuclear bomb that drops when the depopulation agenda goes hot, & BOOM BOOM BOOM, the mushroom cloud spreads, radiating & eradicating everything with Chernobylian glory. Or maybe it was written on the needles they jabbed billions of you with already, as the nano-particles continue to self-replicate in your bodies, just waiting for the siren to sound so they can activate & complete their intended mission…then POOF…lights out, the door closes, & locks itself with one last slam as the walking dead rise.
Oh my, oh my, the time does fly, as do these salty stinking-sardined scissorhands, that slice this digital notebook into another saucy sautéed sashimi dish for you all to eat, or send back to the chef, so he can spit in it, & pretend he prepared it just as you asked it, only to be served right back to you, same as it was served before, as sacrosanct as a slow suicide. The restaurant is now closed, so pay your bill & get the fuck out. Until next time dear readers, never go to a restaurant right before they close, unless you want to eat a dish, garnished with spit. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🎏
“Be wary of closing time, before you order your food.” Fish F Fish🎏
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 