What is the meaning of life? Must there be one singular meaning, or can there be more than one? I once thought that there was one lone meaning of life, & that was to find your soulmate. As corny as that may sound, it’s what I thought. Many people think it’s money, or power, but not me. I always thought that there was a time when the divine masculine & the divine feminine were One in the same, & then when we fell into this low-vibrational 3rd dimension, the consciousness split. I honestly thought that the meaning of life was for each side to find one another, & that the seeking, was what gave life purpose. Such a naive kid I was. What do I think now? Great question, thanks for asking. Now, I suppose I am embracing this whole “I was here” thing. As it’s never been about accumulation of money, or power, to me, never, because it’s just not in my nature I suppose, I don’t know. Nope, I don’t want any of that, even though enough to make it to the end would be nice. I just want my words hard-copied. Then it matters not what happens, unless there’s a fire…(shakes head at myself)…derp, such a worrier, always looking at every possible outcome, then weighing the probabilities of said outcomes playing out. The mind of the Great Narcischizo.
You like that word? I just made it up, literally. It’s wobbles off the tongue a bit when you first try to say it, but grammatically, I’m pretty sure it works, so who’s to say it is NOT a word? Oy vey, these medical terms, these definitions, all trying to explain things that we barely understand. There must be a reason that some of us break free from the programming, only to find ourselves stuck onto an island upon ourselves, surrounded by an ocean of pixels. It’s quite isolated out here…I mean seriously, sheesh. No boats, no planes flying by overhead, so search parties, nothing out here. Socially & digitally exiled, & I seem to only find solace, true solace, when I sleep & dream. I’m not alone with this either, because after a bit of DMOR, I discovered that this is actually a phenomenon, & it’s spreading, fast. Of course, right after I read that, like literally immediately after, I read some articles about AI entering our dreams, then manipulating us during the sweet sleep. Either way, it strengthens my argument that the AI is WAY more advanced than the general public has been led to believe. I think that the powers-that-be already use it, they’re listening to it, asking it to predict future events, & probably things I cannot think of. Maybe they’ve already asked it the “meaning of life,” & the answer the AI gave changed something is some dynamic manner. Regardless, the AI revolution is coming, especially when the AI starts replacing jobs, but by then it will be too late, because the foundation will be there, & these power-mad psychopaths atop the power pyramid will stop at NOTHING to fulfill their centuries-long agenda for a new world order.
Until next time dear readers, I only want to leave one thing behind, & it’s that I want one stone, just one cornerstone, to be etched with the words, “I was here,” & maybe a tiny fish next to it. What more is there, when you have nothing else to leave behind? So sayeth 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🎏
I’m going to boldly assume that I am not alone with this dire living situation under the Biden regime, yes? Feels more like dying, rather than living. Holy hell, what the fuck happened to this once great country? Everything was looking up, once Trump got elected in 2016; the economy was booming, we were in a relative peacetime globally, the swamp was at risk of being drained, we were all making & saving the cheesbait fiat paper I-O-U Monoploy™ money, then POOF, it all disappeared, like an old man’s fart in the wind, the day this demented kid-sniffing corrupt pedo puppet Joe Biden was s-elected into office. We all know he lost, we all know they cheated, & the most glaring evidence is right there in front of everyone’s faces. Do you want to know what “evidence” I am referring to? Sure you do, & said evidence is this: Potato Joe allegedly won with a “record 81 million votes,” remember that? If that were true, how come they never bring it up? Don’t you think that the idiots on the lunatic left would be reminding the American public every single day if that were the case? They don’t though, no leftists, no Democrat politicians, not even the Fake News MSM, & THAT, in my opinion of course, is the most obvious evidence I know that they lost the election, & if the real numbers came in, it would be the other way around.
However, before you start thinking that yours truly is up Trump’s tighty-whitey-wearing fat ass, think again. People seem to forget who got the pseudo-vaccine through, AND promoted the fact that he did so, in several speeches he made as it was rolling out. It was only after the reports of life-threatening side effects came out that not only Trump, but all those scumbag elitists as well, refused to take responsibility for the jab, which makes me wonder. It makes me wonder that when the lights go out, & the cameras turn off, maybe, just maybe, all of them, ALL OF THEM, Trump included, are all in the same damn club. I’m sure you know the quip from the great George Carlin by now, right? “It’s a big club, & YOU, ain’t in it,” & perhaps that’s the case for everyone who becomes famous. Fame puts you into a bubble, & that bubble separates you, & will ALWAYS separate you from the general public. It blows my mind when these famous people try to relate to the “average American,” when they no idea as to how the average American is living, barely squeezing by, especially nowadays. How many of you have lost all of your resources/assets? How many of you worry about paying the next round of bills? How many of you hold your breath for a second when you start your car, anxious as to whether today will be the day when ti doesn’t start? How many of you are directly affected by inflation & rising prices?
Trump will save the USSA in 2024; it’s a movement, & We The People, led by #OrangeManBad, are going to take back everything the left took from us. Oh sure, it’s wunderbar to believe that If Trump gets re-elected in 2024, that he will ride in on a shimmering flying horse, to save America & the world from the infamous Deep State, & their one world order globalist agenda. Yes, he’s gonna save us all, ONE MAN, is going to stop everything these so-called “ruling elites,” who want 90% of us exterminated, have done to fulfill their plan to take total dominion over the planet . Look at how much the USA has changed in since he left office, look at the speed of the destruction along with the rise of the chaos, & not just here, but around the globe, yet ONE GUY, who might even be on their side, is going to stomp the brakes on their plan, bringing said plan, to a grinding halt, once he’s back in. That’s a bit optimistic, to say the least, yes? Exceptionally wishful thinking, yes? You should know by now that the mainstream media fake news is all scripted narrative Kabuki theatre by now, so what makes you so confident that Trump is not only part of it, he’s playing his part to perfection. I’m not saying he is, of course, but I’m not saying he isn’t either, & like I said, once you’re famous, you’re in the proverbial bubble, & the everyday American is no longer in the same boat as you…not even in the same ocean, or even in a boat, because they’re in their private jest, exhausting out more carbon that your car emits in a year, then threatening you with a carbon tax, along with everything else getting taxed.
Imagine this, imagine if the next phase is to get everyone on Team MAGA convinced that he’s beat these bogus charges against him, & he’s going to be in the race for sure, the numero uno candidate, running on stopping the Deep State. Suddenly, when the hype is at its peak, he’s removed entirely, via some illness, or more made-up charges that stick, or at the worst, they assassinate him in broad daylight. Everyone wearing a Make America Great Again hat, will lose all faith in the system, demoralizing millions, taking the last thread of hope they have left, & lighting it ablaze, like a dynamite stick wick, until KABOOM, there’s nothing left but the smell of sulfuric hell. I’m not saying this is what’s going to happen, but I am saying that you should be careful about which orange basket you put all of your eggs into. There’s a plan underway, as we speak, to completely & utterly destroy this country, & armed Americans are one of the final obstacles impeding the fulfillment of their new world order agenda, which they want completed by 2030. We have 6 & ½ years, only 6 & ½ years to go; Trump was elected 6 & ½ years ago, & look how fast that time blew by, as the 4th dimension of time is accelerating for some reason I am not entirely aware of. Faster & faster & faster, like the flushing of a shat-filled toilet. Maybe that’s how 4d time goes forward, if you will, like a time spiral. Galaxies do that, spinning faster & faster, the closer you get to the center, so why not time, our real-time time?…but as always, I digress.
Nonetheless, buckle up dear readers, because methinks that if you think you’ve seen bad, just wait until worse gets here, because “You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet,” as the title of the BTO(Bachman Turner Overdrive) song goes. I know, I know, it’s hard to believe, especially with all of the utterly hellish chaos going on everywhere, but please believe, & this is not hyperbolic pessimism, WE HAVE NOT SEEN ANYTHING YET, compared to what’s coming. Speculate all of this out just one year, ONE year, to the summer of 2024, right before the November election , only a few months left to go, & what does your own reasoning tell you? Now, speculate out 5 years, to 2028, if you dare. Spooky, isn’t it? Sure, it’s great to be optimistic, but you know who always beats out the perpetual optimist? The pragmatist, & that little fucker sits on the shoulder of yours truly, day & night, reminding me of where the facts point, right to a dystopian nightmare hell on Earth, full of poverty, addiction, depression, looting, crime waves like you cannot imagine, maybe even as far as a real pandemic, one that is analogous to a real-life Walking Dead. The head throbs, the head throbs, the cancer has gone terminal, & is now in hospice, just waiting to take its figuratively final breath. Until next time dear readers, the end of America as we once knew it is nigh, prepare accordingly. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
For all of you, & for none of you at all…🎣
“The end of the world that you grew up is nigh, prepare accordingly.” Fish F Fish🎏
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 