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’m not going to say much, as her music wasn’t really my flavor, but the song, “Nothing Compares to You,” will live on as an earworm, for billions of ears, for a very long time. It’s one of those songs that everyone knows, which if you can pull that off as a musical artist, you’ve done well. Songs live in 4d time, until the end of time, & to have that, is truly a dream come true. Also, I give her props fro ripping up a picture of the pope on national television. She knew, as does yours truly, & everyone else who abides the truth-seeker movement, that the Vatican is a gateway to hell, essentially, & the pope is the figurehead of said gateway. There’s nothing holy about any of them, & the fact that they all know about the pedophiles within the church, & only do something when the pedos get caught, means they’re complacent with perving out on kids. Fuck that, & fuck those evil fucks. All of them. I’m surprised the pope isn’t signed in on the Jeffrey Epstein flight log, to be honest, & I’m not joking. It’s a sick, sick world behind the scenes, & since Sinead devoted herself to exposing those sinister soulless scum, yours truly has nothing but respect for her, a life cut short.
She was only 56, geez, that’s not old at all. It’s certainly not young, but it’s not old either. I think the 50s will be fun, if I make it, but sadly for Sinead, she left the party. I wonder what she knew…probably a lot, right? You have access to the really real information once you hit known-all-over-the-world status. Once she got into, then became that celebrity bubble, so many options must have manifested, along with certain truths, truths about the way this world really works. Then, perhaps she went too far. Maybe she pushed, pushed, squeezed the truth-holders for the truth, & when she did, they deemed it “too far,” & so, had her killed, to get the squealer out of the proverbial pig pen. Kill her, make it look like a suicide, queue the media with the scripted narrative, & “WE’RE LIVE!” The fake news media then pukes out a story about…oh, I don’t know, what are they going to say?
Maybe a drug overdose, which is a common method of murder? Maybe a slip & fall, like Bob Saget, who broke his head & numerous places allegedly from a shower fall, then got into bed & died, but still ruled a suicide. On that note, is THIS going to be ruled a suicide too? Gah, I suppose we have to wait, because I am not finding a cause of death yet anywhere, which is understandable, considering it happened earlier in the day. Maybe it’s good to let her rest a day before the narratives, & theories, & speculations, all come out, in turn. Yes, how bout we give her a day, shall we? Until next time dear readers, take care of the ones you love, so you don’t end up like yours truly, who has no one, no one left to love, no family, no friends, lost my job so I have no job to love, no girlfriend, nothing, as if the Universe is testing me in some Jobian manner.
I DO have my son Milo, who is a cat, but the closest thing to a kid I will ever have. It’s as if God himself has forsaken me, except for Milo. Sorry bout that God, & thanks for Milo. He’s a gem, there’s no other cat like him, everyone who sees him loves him, but sadly, the ex-girlfriend & myself, traumatized him. I hate admitting it was me too, but it had to have not been good for him, listening to two people argue aggressively. Poor guy. I had to yell back sometimes, usually to get her to stop, just stop you crazy girl. God damn, but nope, she never stopped, so I had to go. Yes, his own father, me, traumatizing him with the yelling too, because I had no choice, & like I said, I had to defend myself against a 4 foot 11 maniac bitch, that loved to yell, hit me, throw things, absolute toxicity & abuse. My poor cat just hid, confused, maybe thinking we were yelling about him, I don’t know, but it wasn’t hard to tell who loved me the most in that situation. I’m not going to digress into those shitty memories here though, not anymore anyway. No more destroying. So sayeth FisH™ 🎏
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…
To read this bullshit article via Yahoo News, click HERE
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🎏