6 days until the the frog comes again. Perhaps I should’ve scheduled it on the New Moon, but moons, crystals, magic, all that stuff is just superstitious gibberish. At least, it seems to be anyway. Nonetheless, the frog is most definitely a savior on a cross, so to speak. The frog is very real, & the frog abides. The sweet sleep has to end, as yours truly must navigate this 3d prison planet with clear mind & strong body. Things are on the precipice, & each day that goes by, we get closer, & closer, & closer…to what though? What are we getting closer to? Death, that’s one thing, but that’s not what I’m referring to. I’m thinking maybe there was some kind of event we all incarnated to bear witness to. Maybe not. Maybe it is all for not. Just like the rotting swamp gas stench, it’s all just decay, death beginning immediately upon birth, like a once-flooded coastal wasteland, but what happens the other way? So many questions, & the worst part is that we all have the answers, only we’ve lost our memories, we’ve lost our “higher” abilities, & we’ve lost our minds, in many cases. Some don’t seem to have a mind, like real-life, real-time NPCs, so I guess they have nothing to lose, but I digress. Just like shutting off a vacuum cleaner. Nonetheless, the 3-year stint of of the silent assassin ends Monday. No more auto-pilot, no more days in laze, the purgatorial penance dawns on 6 days from now. The end? Or…the end?
The salad days are long dead & gone, & one comes to a time in their respective lives where they realize the party is over, the Great Party of being young is done. There’s nothing but moldy crushed bits of plastic red cups on the floor, something smoldering in the kitchen, & everyone else is gone, been gone, long gone, so what will you do? You weren’t supposed to get this far, but you have, so now what? Live in the party house forever, sleeping on couch cushions on a floor, until the roof caves in? Can’t just wait for the societal collapse now can we? How does one prepare for a “future” in this wicked world of debt slavery? So many questions, so many questions. Until next time dear readers, when the party ends, it’s over, & it’s time to move on. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
What a life, what a life this life has lived up to, now at this middle-age, assuming I make it to old age. Unfortunately , the marathon just backed up 25 years or so, I’m starting me alllllllllllll the way back at square one. Of course, if I were actually in my early 20s, it would be great right, starting over?…but regrettably for yours truly, I am not. I don’t have time to start back at the rockiest rock bottom ever, so I suppose I’ll just spend the rest of my miserable days slinging shitty weed to automatonic customers who are so unbelievably ill-informed about what they’re doing, it’s almost a joke on top of a joke. The main joke would be back to doing this nonsense again, after 6 weeks quitting no less, & the other joke being that I can barely tolerate these “patients” now, but I’d love customers like these back in the day, ones that paid whatever I told them the price was, as well as assumed that because I say it’s good, it’s good. Despite this being a legal job, the dispensary is half-ass at best, it’s insanely disorganized, very ghettofied, & the weed sucks. It suh-hucks, & like I said, I don’t even smoke this shit anymore, but good God, one might think there’d be no room in Colorado for weed so low in quality. To my surprise & dismay though, not only is there a local market for it, these fucking people actually think it’s good. Blows the mind. Seriously, this is like some karmic time warp for me to make up for a past I had no control over. Going backwards, the world is backwards, it’s all fucking backwards here. Something is so…off, one could argue. Nonetheless, before I tangent off in the first paragraph, let’s get back to the naive people, all I wanted to say about that is that I suppose the power of suggestion is much stronger than most people realize.
Look at Covaids. Look what the pandemic did to people. It’s STILL showing effects from the mass-psychosis/hypnosis. Maybe it was mass hypno-psychosis. The television PROGRAMMING programmed the public to believe in a faux virus, & that they needed a jab, & what did they all do? Without doing any research for themselves, they panicked, put on 12 masks, rolled up their sleeves, & let eugenists, I mean “doctors,” jab a relatively untested science experiment, sold as a “vaccine,”into their bodies, which as I said from he start, will not do anything, except maybe shed the the sickness by weakening immune systems, & eventually kill people, but other than that. I know something about Covaids that most people don’t, but I’ll have to illustrate that more in a future post, or this one will end up being much longer than the average attention span. Now with the Coviads, just to finish, have you seen all the people collapsing & dying from “random heart attacks?” That’s the Covaids jab, believe it or not, I do not care, because I know what is doing it, & I know what it means to hold your ground, like I’ve done for the last 3 years, despite a whole world against me it seemed. Here to help, & the tv-watchers ostracize me. Like I said, it’s all backwards here in this 3d Clownworld. I swear, if it comes on the television, most people WILL comply, as if the television BROADCAST PROGRAMMING might not be what it seems, even though it’s right there in the words.
Free stream of consciousness, this paragraph is all just me tuning the dial, finding a station, holding the number 3 button on the radio’s face until it blinks, then letting these fingers fly, & what comes out, I never know, until I proofread my posts. Okay, ready?
I do know this, as much as it pains my soul, I do know this though, I hate where my life has gone & will go. I hate the ditch, the ditch in the doldrums, what if the cold concrete of the street comes? Gah, these depressing depths I have now sunk myself down into, with no more sunlight in sight. Where is the sun? I should go walk the walks of Kerouac; he used to live here for God’s sake, why not? Or Neal Cassidy? Either one. Maybe that’ll bring light down here. Nope, it’s too dark, much too dark down here, dark as a pissed-off squid, in more ways than one could guess, but I just know it’s darkness all around me, surrounding me, trying to suffocate me. There’s a good quip, like an impetus quip; I know that there can be a light in the darkness, & never vice-versa. Oh but look, my light in this darkness is barely holding on. Only a flicker, like a lighter in a tornado. If I run out of light bulb juice, the light turns off, so for some reason, despite all of this depravity & degeneracy within this darkness, I keep this silly little flicker flicking. I don’t know why, don’t even care why anymore, & in fact, I don’t feel a God-damned thing as I walk down an endless flight of stairs, these liminal checkerboard marble stairs. Nope, total numbness, no handrail, just one step, another step, one step, another step, through an Escherian maze that goes nowhere but seems to go everywhere.
I am intentionally avoiding the news for a week starting today. I just don’t care anymore; the zeitgeist is a runaway snowball, picking up everything, while being steered by sinister forces atop the power pyramid. Said snowball is carving a path that for them, one that is analogous to a super-highway, but for the rest of us, it’s like we all own a little house…look at all of our millions of little houses, right in the path of that super-highway the globalist elites want. The snowball is Katamarian; it picks up everything, consumes everything it touches, so our little pink houses, are getting gobbled up, while their super-highway is plowing a path for them to have total global dominion when it’s complete. The analogy works in my head, & hopefully, you can picture that one too. it’s clever, however I admit, kind of nebulous, but again, I digress.
From this day forward, until December 31st, 2030, this nascent hell on Earth is going to become the Las Vegas of hell on Earth. It will be absolute sin city, like Pandemonium in Paradise Lost, a city of demons, run by demons, inhabited by demons & their minions, yes, humans totally enslaved, it’s going to be quite malevolent. Maybe the Antichrist will have made his presence known by then. Maybe there WILL be some kind of Divine reckoning. The way it’s going, sadly, is not very promising that it will be the latter. God has seemingly left the building, then left the state, & can you blame Him for doing so? Look around for fuck’s sake…this is some new-age dystopian nightmare. Some famous futurists wrote about things that were like this, but none of them captured its exact essence, but several came close. The reality is more like an amalgamation of Orwell, Huxley, Rand, & although none of them hit it perfectly on the head singularly, as I said, if you combined the main plots of their works, out would be birthed this modern day idiocracy we are all stuck in, like rats on a ship that’s destined to sink. Only when this boat finally ceases to float, the ones piloting it will try to take as many of us to the bottom with it, as in dusks below the crashing waves.
Nope, this cannot go on, but when will it finally hit critical mass, when sociodynamics become fully manifest, which way will it go? Don’t expect those of us in the peasantry down here to come out on top, because we won’t, for reasons I just suggested, but mainly because we will always allow them to divide us. Try to imagine everyone in this world, or even just this country, dropping the qualms they’ve been programmed to believe that keep us divided. Imagine if EVERYONE, despite all the fucked-up shit going on in their lives, just suddenly united to take down this small circle of fiends who are in charge. There’s so many more of us, & we could do it in a day, but the division & the notions of division are so deeply engrained now in the general populous, that there is just no way possible to stop the inevitable.
There’s no way to turn a ship around, when half the people are steering starboard while the other half are steering port. Now stick a propaganda machine between both sides of the steerers, & the hatred festers until it erupts into violence. All the while, while the boat starts sinking & the steerers are fighting, each side at the other’s throats, the captain, the staff, & all the guests in the “upper-class” part of the ship are busy boarding lifeboats. They know they’ll b safe if/when the ship sinks, but us, we’re fucked, because we’re too busy fighting one another to go out onto the main deck to see the iceberg that the ship just smashed into. I know, I know, these analogies are a bit all over the place, but you all get the point, yes? The point is: if you’re not among the so-called “ruling elites,” the clock is ticking…maybe 5 years for some of us, but many will be gone before that. A hot World War 3, another plandemic, except one that actually kills people on contact, a staged “space event,” with Project Blue Beam being the center-point, & most people believing & abiding that it’s real, is that the future? It doesn’t matter what scenario I illustrate here, doesn’t matter at all. Nothing we amongst the low-lifes do really matters, nor did it ever. Much time has been wasted, utterly thrown in the trash, & in my case, left me with a head full of knowledge, on an island unto myself.
Total emptiness…I recall the guy on the street, with no family anymore, no friends, working a taxed dead-end job for rubles & ones, with an overpriced iphone never rings, unless it’s a bill collector or some bullshit 800 number, so why do this, why continue if it’s just misery to even exist, what is there to live for? For him, nothing, & for me, of course there’s my cat Milo, & I live for him; he’s it, all yours truly has, my only best little friend, & for him, yes I continue on. If he wasn’t here though, I’d probably die in a shootout robbing a bank. I’ve always thought it would be fun to pull off, if even just once, but since I’ve never actually done it, I’d most-likely fuck it up somehow. The cops would be silently notified, & just as I exit the bank, I’d hear, “Get down, get down on the fucking ground now!!!” I’d naturally have to draw my gun, because fuck going to prison, & as soon as I did, a volley of shots would sound off, as lead projectiles going 5000mph tear through my chest, piercing my heart & lungs & such, more-or-less killing me instantly. I actually know a guy that all of this happened to more-or-less. He had been successful, in many scores, but on this occasion, things went wrong. Alarms were tripped, people got jumpy, & my friend ended up getting away, but his partner did not, & instead of leaving the scene with all of the cash & a clean getaway, he turned around, & went back to get his bank-robbery buddy. Admirable, right? The cops had the place surrounded already though, & a shootout broke out. My friend went walking right at police, unloading clips like some bonus scene from Reservoir Dogs, bullets whizzing everywhere. His partner was already hit & down, so my friend had decided he would go out in a maelstrom of lead & bang-bangs. Then he got hit, POP, hit again, & again, & again, POP POP POP, & he collapsed to the ground. As the cops walked up, they saw the guns my friend had were on the ground, away from him, & he was dying, but still alive, so they emptied several more rounds into him at relative point-blank, trying to kill him, one shot even hitting him in the balls. Guess what? THEY STILL DID NOT KILL HIM, 9 times shot, & my friend lived, went to the hospital, went through a hellish surgery, just to save his life so that he could do time, & spend the rest of his bank-robbing life in jail. Fucked up story, isn’t it? It’s true though, & I talk to this friend all the time. He’s a savage, not to be fucked with.
He’s a good dude though, with a good soul, not all criminals are bad people, as not all laws or just, & we all know how fucked up the “justice” system in the USSA has become. 2 tiers, one for us, the peasantry, & then one for the so-called “ruling elites.” This 2-tiered justice system has gone so askew, that they don’t even hide the fact that it IS a 2-tiered justice system. Nope, they just blatantly treat those deemed “elite” with proverbial kid gloves, on national television, while you & I get proverbially punched in the face with a weighted boxing glove if we are charged with similar crimes. Oh yes, make no mistake, if one of us amongst the general populous committed insider trading in the open, cheated on our taxes on record, abused people, & even murdered people, we’d be in federal prison. Not these elites though, oh no no no…for them, it’s a picnic, & what’s worse, they come out on television trying to dictate to the regular folks how to act, what to say, who to be, ugh, it’s all just so pathetic, it makes you wanna scream until a glass breaks. TURN OFF YOUR TELEVISIONS. IT’S CALLED “PROGRAMMING” FOR A RESON. This is why I am not going to be turning on the news for a week, maybe more. Don’t know, don’t care, & I’m going to avoid all of my media for a week to detox my head from looking at the news, the breaking news, the fake news, anything “news,” is no more for at least a week for me, possibly more, depending on how my head feels after the week of no-news-isolation.
We don’t want to communicate with anyone/anything, if we want to be 110% honest here. NOTHING, I am done talking to people any more than I have to. Why? That’s easy, because most people are soul-suckers, yet aren’t aware of it, because it’s all occurring subconsciously, & when they go out in public, their programmed NPC selves suck the energy from everyone. Fat people are notorious for doing this. Think about physically, their obesity it itself, so fat they have their own gravitational field, which is not total hyperbole, because just like a gravity field, their chubby orb-like stature, pulls energy toward it, YOUR energy, getting pulled toward the fatty, just like a planet does to an asteroid. Also, it’s mentally, which extends beyond the fatties, as there are many, MANY psychic vampires, so to speak, who exist to do one thing, suck up light energy into their own darkened souls. Some do it intentionally, but many do it without even realizing they’re doing it.
Unfortunately, for yours truly, I sense it, all of it, & it’s always trying to pull at me, & by always, unless I am in a room alone with my cat, I have to continually be on guard, so no soul-suckers suck my soul. Say that fast 6 times, “So no soul-suckers suck my soul.” I jest, but they do, & these sort of notions are the foundation of my will to keep going, I suppose, because there has to be some meaning in my being here at all. I can’t let them beat me. There has to be something, right?…was Camus right/wrong when he talked about the meaningless of life is what gives life meaning, in his book The Myth of Sisyphus? It’s all so absurd, yes, & if God, any God, has forsaken you to be a drone-like slave, why go on? Why not just off one’s self? Camus discusses that too, & feel free to red for yourself, but personally, I think that sure, you could end your own life, & maybe it was always an option & you just get clean slate restart, you might think…but what if there is a mental hell after death? Not pitchforks & a giant frozen Lucifer hell, that’s all medieval fear porn, but some kind of mental hell, one that you put yourself into when you take your own life, what if that happens? It’s a lot to chance. Or what if you restart, only to have to do it all over again, like putting a record back onto the same song, when you abruptly end the song as it was playing? The song has to finish, before you can go on to the next one, which is another reason why taking your own life is not worth the risk you could face in the afterlife. The odds say so at least, statistical analysis isn’t objective, so again, the risk is just too favorable for the house, not one’s self, should one choose to take their own live by thine own hand.
Geez Louise, I’ve done it yet again, look at this. Like 5 pages of my drivel, & I should re-title this, “Back Behind Bars,” as opposed to, “Back Behind the Bar,” since let’s equate this dismal life to an un-ending incarceration of sorts. Life of solitary confinement: when you’re exiled from the digital town square, your friends are all dead, you have no family anymore, the money has gone back to the money-printers, you sleep on the floor, you have to liberate food to eat, you do a job that a trained monkey could do, you’ve wasted your whole life in a state of delusion & arrested development, after a youth full of abuse at all levels, you have zero hope, a weak skill set at best, no aspirations for a future that is sure to end up dystopian, & isolation has made you alien to the public. Yes, one’s own prison cell, with a little logo carved into the wall via a brick scratcher made out of old elongated toenails. Mine’s a fish, recognize. This is a world that has turned from a once-lush garden into a burned-out bushy mess. Only within a few years too, with the AI riding up fast as a leading dark horse. For yours truly, it’s been a complete 180, & I’m going to spend the rest of this ridiculous life selling legal dirt weed to unappreciative ratchet customers, but I guess that’s what I’ll have to do. Doesn’t matter though, nothing does, & as I said, why should it, why should a Godless 3d matrix mean anything to anyone? It’s all about money for most, money money money, chasing that money, & I just cannot abide it. I’m not even sure why, but my soul just doesn’t understand an artificially constructed currency, particularly something as atrocious as paper monopoly money, backed by literally nothing, & handed out to the people in the power pyramid like Pez on Halloween, while everyone else is forced to slave for it, all thanks to an illusion of scarcity. It’s NOT right, none of this is right, none of this is natural, but yet it continues, & it even grows, pulling more & more & more people into the depravity of power through dynamically corrupt & unprecedented means of wealth acquisition,
As usual, I have digressed into some dark waters, & I must end this diatribe now. Until next time dear readers, yours truly might be from another planet, one where money, & internets, & cell phones, & tyrannical power pyramids do not exist. Certainly not the first three, but it’s very difficult to incarnate on a planet that has no power pyramid. I think that most “sentient” entities biologically establish a hierarchy, whether intentional or not, to ultimately establish order, but here on earth, it’s an illusion. It’s an illusion they perpetrate & maintain, being taught so from birth, under the pseudo-guise that humans with free will must be controlled by those born to a higher station then they are. Again, these are illusions, all indoctrinated during the respective childhoods of varying members of the special bloodlines throughout the world. Generation after generation, they build their dynasties into empires. Someone without a family can only imagine what that’s like, to have a family, especially a family with power & wealth, imagine the possibilities, the obstacles you would never have to worry about, how far you could take your life, without ever worrying about money, so many fucking advantages, & you don’t have to be evil even if your family name is, unless…
…suppose that there’s a secret all elite family members share. Maybe there’s some great cosmic dark secret that they all share to retain the power they possess. Could there be one truth, one definitive solid truth, that keeps them, & us, really separate? Not talking about the caste system, no no, nothing like that; I am talking about the bloodlines. These people are all pedigreed, like a dog, & they have papers documenting their lineage. If you don’t have papers, you’re just another mutt, & you’re due to be sterilized & euthanized at some point in the not-so-distant future. Is that their true goal? Maybe I’m wrong, yes, I could be totally wrong, & all of this is a paranoid delusion. Perhaps a lobotomy would do me well, & if it were 75 years ago, let’s say, my parents, being the way they are, most likely would’ve used their insurance to lobotomize me in my youth, only to throw me into The Cuckoo’s Nest for the rest of my life. I would be just like Murphy, the only sane one in a world gone insane, & deemed as a “mental patient,” eventually frying my brain. Nope, no more dinners with the fam for the black sheep; those days are forever gone. So much wasted time, so much time, wasted. That is all for now. So sayeth FisH™ 🎏
“One thing about those who’ve never ridden the train before that is remarkably puzzling, is the fact that they boldly carry on as though they can comprehend the ride, in a most condescending way too, despite the fact they’ve never even had a train ticket, much less hopped on board.” Fish F Fish🎏
Yours truly could go on quite a diatribe about the facets of opiate addiction, many diatribes in fact, countless in number. Some up, some down, all that cooks up in between, & it could be narrated, spoken via the spookily sultry spoken subtitling voice of the great William S. Burroughs, a proverbial poet-warrior, far ahead of his time, timelessly captured in a future’s past, in that bygone era Americana of the early 20th century. His only hangup was being a fag, & most certainly wasn’t the pinch of the spike, for he was one of the first to capitalize on that “conduit,” as he said, that gateway plunge to the Interzone, as I have spoken of in prior posts. Psilocybin can take you there, LSD can take you there, but what many do not know, unless they mount the horse, is that you can gallop there as well, via a needle, a spoon, & a bag of the finest dope. Of course, & with a double-edged bittersweetness, heroin & morphine have been sourced out, replaced by fentanyl, which is not a true opioid, for it comes not from the poppy. It is as artificial as a reality TV show, made completely in a Chinese chemical lab, from start to its marquee pin-hole end. It has no “legs,” so to speak, & thus, no capacity for the creation of art. It’s a knockout punch, a prayer before dying, then if you’re lucky, more unsatisfyingly short-lived one-two slugs to the chin. Would you like to hear Old Bill speak?
Although created in 1959, when Bill was still alive, I don’t think Old Bill here would abide fetty, as the street pimps call it, or the overall uselessness of it for relieving pain, or relieving anything at all, & unless sustained, only dons the mask for a half-hour or so at best, before the sleeve must come up, the veins must be raised, & the spike must be hammered into the railroad track yet again. There’s no functioning on fentanyl, hence the expression, “no legs.” A solid dose of heroin, or morphine, & an active junky can maintain a job, drive a car, have family time, without drawing suspicion to their habit. The creation of art can be pure, beautiful, perhaps even enhanced, but without legs, as when on the fet, none of these things are possible. It’s a home run to the hole, for one careless misstep, whoops, & it’s over the line you go, like falling backwards into a tunnel, it all becomes a black dot that gets smaller & smaller, until POOF, gone. Without legs, you can’t dance, & unfortunately, the dancing is done, because finding legit heroin anymore is nearly impossible. It’s seemingly all become fetty these days, along with an unending procession of deaths due to doses over the line, all courtesy of a rogue “bureaucracy,” just as Old Bull predicted. Amazing how these geniuses of a time long gone knew, they knew it as well as the biting of teeth, what was to come. Where have they gone? Where have my heroes all gone to?
Yikes, such a blood-boiled subject, taught in a classroom with no doors, where the lecturer seems to never stop lecturing. To look at one’s arms, at the scars on the heart, the roads blocked due to landslides, is a testament to a journey gone painfully askew, into a petrifying forest of dead trees. There’s a seething heartbreak in all of it, when everything’s gone, except your last train ticket, & you only see concrete walls around, 40-feet thick, & no ropes, no ladders, no trampolines to bounce your way back out into the shining sun. It never leaves you, said heartbreak, & that’s all I’m going to say about it. To hear more, seek the wisdom of Old Bill up above there, as he has the words, & I only have the rhymes. Until next time dear readers…🎏
Fuckin hell, FINALLY, finally, finally…like a wave of divine reckoning, you could say. Accounts settled. No, not my outrageous paper I-O-U monopoly fiat money debt, fuck them, my debt to myself, for what happened in 2022, all of like savings, my resources, all of it now gone after your so-called leaders intentionally crashed the markets, it’s all now gone, as gone as gone can get, & it’s never coming back, & FINALLY, finally somehow as I sat on a couch watching videos about spiritual awakenings, which I’m WELL-aware of, since that’s what I based this site on originally, when I created it 11 years ago. I was up, then down, then up, then way down, then way up, then right back down, & why? What is the life lesson I’m meant to learn here? I thought about this notion, & I’m still thinking about it, but in the middle of these thoughts, these clouds in the mind’s sky, it just dawned on me, like a wave, like a physical tingling electric wave, & POOF, it’s just…gone now, the monkey from 2022, now just, gone. Clear eyes are prevailing, & as I make an exceptionally difficult decision to embark on this journey, I must embrace the idea of change, & growth, & moving forward. This time ain’t stopping, & while it’s still available, it’s become a matter of utmost importance to embrace it, & ride this roller coaster all the way through.
Yes, just letting it go, letting all of it go, go, go, gone…it’s gone away in the past, forever, & now is a new time. Time…we are only bound to it here in 3d, & for some reason, it makes it so precious while we’re here, & so many are going through this fully understanding that inclination, while others waste it, like yours truly, wasted so much of it, so much, but if I don’t let it go, & look toward the future, I cannot progress leveling up, & that’s something I just can’t abide. I cannot fail myself for whatever I came here to do, there has to be a reason, or maybe there is no reason, & THAT alone, is reason enough? I don’t know, but I’m now looking quite forward to changing venues, so to speak, & returning to…what am I returning to? Family, number one, that’s going to be number one, getting home, & then I don’t know, & I don’t want to anticipate, speculate, or expect anything about what is coming, as I must just allow time to happen, allow this experience to play out, while regaining total control over my own free will. I’m thinking the will is free, it IS free, truly free…unless…unless you enslave your own damn self, which again, yours truly is very guilty of, very guilty, but at least aware, thank goodness. Sheesh, imagine acting this way without the self-awareness. Yikes.
All if it, every stinking sniffling little pill of pain, literally & proverbially, poisoning the food, the water, broadcasting programs, just what the fuck is going on here in this world? Something ain’t right, damnit, & I guess I’m extra-sensitive to it, I don’t know, but there’s many of us who are virtuous, & benevolent, & are drawn to love like summer moths to a porch light, getting chased by a Siamese cat. This world could be SO MUCH BETTER, but these soulless evil fucks, these God-damned minions of darkness, have taken over, & are going to continue to try to take over, this beautiful world, a world full of music, & dancing, & laughing, yet now rotting, rotting with drugs, & murderers, & pimps, & zombies, & I hate that. I really do, I fucking hate that, I hate what they are doing, but dwelling on it, or illustrating it any further unless deemed necessary, is now possibly coming to a grinding halt. I have drawn from the well, & the water was dark, so dark you couldn’t see the bottom of the bucket, that’s how dark the water got, but I want the pure water now, the doe-eyed water, clear, Brita-filtered through my fingers, water that others might want to drink. Who wants to drink dirty water, know what I mean?
It has already begun, oh the pain, the pain in my brain, the spider in the corner, ran out of my ear, & since I don’t kill spiders, I gently scooped it up, despite it nesting in my brain for a bit, I decided not to squash it into grimy guts in the napkin in my hand, no…no, I just opened the door, & threw it back out into the Nature from whence it came. There’s no feelings in Nature, you see? No, Nature is a killer, & it’s naive to assume that men aren’t killers too, right? Killers, man, these marauding murderers running the world, & I suppose for them, since they already consider themselves people-herders, the value of human life is more…subjective. Like for instance, my life, would be considered essentially worthless, like a commodity, but only to them, because obviously to me & my circle, it’s all I got, so I will protect it fiercely if these killers at the top of the power pyramid force us all into a conflict of a global nature, where we have no choice, but to all be killers, if you want to survive. Nature returning to take back what men took from her perhaps? Oh look at these men, these brilliant men, creating, & inventing, & learning, & teaching, but then wait, one group of said men, wants to use these advancements for destruction, rather than creation, & kill other men. Killers, the unescapable poison of power perhaps? Is power like a drug? I’m sure it is, & it feels like the best drug, & maybe it is, I wouldn’t know. I know about DRUGS drugs, that I know about, but power, nah, I’ve never really wielded it much. I’ve always been one to stay to myself, or have girlfriends & small, small circles. I’ve watched power a lot, I’ve watched how power plays out in social hierarchies, but I’ve always just been a watcher, the observer, watching, not much doing unfortunately, but enough watching to write an opus about, which I should do, yes, I need to write a book, I’m going to write a book, yes, my book, my book for the world. I should do that…time…time…tick tick tick, tock tock, don’t look at the clock, because it won’t stop.
Well, well, well…what a whirlwind wedding of writing I’ve written here…whew. Lost myself for a bit there, had to take a little break, then come back & wrap this up. Gotta look at this in a positive light, no matter how sad the situation seems, it’s not permanent. Nothing is ultimately, if we truly are eternal, right? Unfortunately, these moments come I guess, just hard to play them out in real time, or maybe use your free will to just ride the wave, all the way to that white sandy shore, until you paddle out again, or whatever it is you do when you find yourself floating in the ocean. Until next time dear readers, until next time. So sayeth FisH™…🎏
EaT~aLL~YouR~FisH™ 