Peace - Nothing Else Makes Sense and Justice - Nothing Else Matters

Peace - Nothing Else Makes Sense and Justice - Nothing Else Matters
Dilution is NOT the solution to radioactive pollution: THAT is delusion. NO and NO.KNOW.NO! NUKES PLEASE: Drawing light on the Beauty of Diversity ~ Taking every last and first thing literally figurativelly through the eyes of MzDiagnosed Autism Spectrum erroneously viciously forced by lockdown that 70s style to take the Deadly Rx T-Rex thus given the Manic Depressive Bipolar it's a syndrome folks no joke. Seaing everything personally symbolically synchronicitealeafly...and No More Freaking Frack Freaks!!! ∃volv∃ is Lov∃ Spwelled Backwards

Friday, January 18, 2019

Eminence Front and the Ghost of Tom Joad

To the tunes of The Who - Eminence Front (Original) and then Rage Against the Machine - The Ghost of Tom Joad

Hear the opening riff?  time bending mind melding.  Against the Machine.

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Atmosphere - Stopwatch (Official Video)
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Published on Jan 18, 2019




Dawns April Fool Gemini Nemesis
I was 15. I'd already been so worked over that I was already gone.  I didn't want to be infamous, the idea of people knowing me horrified me to begin with.  Social Anxiety Disorder became the label, but it was just old fashioned PTSD from infancy.  I was just a very messed with and up kid, and after moving around endlessly to appease Mother, who just wanted better, better, better from father, I wanted friends that would take me in.  Protect me from stupid, senseless self-hating and they did above and beyond their best.  But also loved us dearly.  Tried to figure it out but it is ripping my gut to shreds to this day.

So, I stepped in it.  I had no idea what I was doing.  Less than most 15 year olds, that is for sure.  I grew of course, to love those kids and especially their mother with all my heart.  The Elephant in the Room wasn't even around, we had no idea where he was.  But the Machine does not care.  That family had to have tremendous patience to just put up with my own stupid suffering, AND their own unwanted association with infame.  My ego was already distorted from birth.  Obvious to this very second.

Never drink this satanic shit
it gives folks cancer
unknowingly
I am a Gemini sun.  Of course I wanted to 'be a writer' when I grew up.  But I wasn't as stupid as (I believed) everyone thought I was.  And I despised competition.  I left, got mentally mutilated and came back to that family, who took me in with open arms.  No one knew clearly what Autism was, or that I had it.  I just had that old gut feeling something was more than wrong with must me and my DNA.

Talking Heads, When the Days Go by.

Professions are like most Capitalist ventures in that the best and brightest or most somehow famous are jockeying for position on top, and don't give a f@ck who they hurt to get there.  In Gross Generalisation, of course.  They didn't know I had disabilities.  They didn't give a shit, on their way to more fame and fortune, while exposing my guts to my face without any one else knowing.  How fucked up was that?  Oh, I'm digressing into the subject of Music.  I couldn't even share that with anyone without them thinking it was paranoia and then the gaslighting.  Hangry?  You betcha.  Wanna be?  Absolutely Not.

After I left, my pathetic story was fair game for any who took a chunk off the rumor mill to profit off of.  I was fair game because I was a Masshole who also hated my own guts and constantly being ripped off this way.  So I believed.  I vowed to show all the fockers that I was never a debutant wanna be that shit made me wanna puke.  I wasn't anything any of them thought.  I just wanted to be left alone to be my stoopid s.elf.  So yes, I bought into the prophecies and suicided my youth while acting out familial and ancestral issues but only trying to work for training benefits while I struggled with social issues for State Street Corp.  That I didn't even consciously know about.  Don't rip those permanent internal stitches laughing now.

No one's laughing much these days, for real.  It must not be easy doing that for a living either.  With all the insanity going on on and at the world?  If you ain't upset then something may be wrong there imho.

ll  Myth of the Twin Towers
Worship the Myth of the Twin Towers?  Still?  Blue Blood style.  Hey, It was Quigley and he and Cora finally Rocked.  The oldest monoliths in the world were amazing but under those dangerous bright lights that can crash and burn you if you let your demons consume you.  But it is so sad what is done to the indigenous.  Give them back their sovereign dignity.  Leave them be for any of your Gods' sakes.  Christ!

Chri$tianity? 
Really?  More insanity and slavery of the mind.  Throw in the unconscionable sodomy of children and yet more war on human sovereignty.  Cruise ship fiction?  My take.  He was a hot Man.  He had Vision.  They crucified him for trying to spread the word that we are all one species and we can care for, heal each other and mostly ourselves first and the planet in one movement.  I believe in that, but what makes Evil, oh, I mean what seems like Evangelicals on TV seem to believe any one religion is the Only Religion over Others?  Dreaming up an apocalypse so more for them and less for everyone else?  Are not Wars against the People in fact, Satanic?  Yes, they are in fact.  That turns me off all organized religion right in it's tracks, sorry.  But, to each his own, and I have tremendous respect for others to believe what they like as long as they hurt no one.

Universal Love
I believe in the Universe.  Universal Love.  Get your head out of your jeans.  No, not stars that is silly, I meant the sky, the skeye, the one and only Universe.  That we know about. so far  So far, so good.  And timelines that we know about for goodness' sake.  But thanks, anyway.

If I should die before I wake I will take care of my own soul thank you very, very much.  Ding!  No one was courageous enough to ask me directly.  I didn't even have the curse/gift of speech until now, at almost 60.  Autism is rough when you are a loner and you believe that you are a loser to boot.  I was set up, just like so many, to play a crazy role in All The World Stage.  Cut the sh@t!

And I will let my soul freely soar though time and space to explore other worlds, believe you me, when it is time, hopefully a centarian in relatively good health, I practice every second of my exi.stance.  I wish I had been part of good Community in one way or another that would take, but I was initially mistakenly raised by a Mah that worked too hard, which translated to a special needs kid (no one talked about special needs back then), to believe I should not have existed in the first place, and it never got shook off, so it wasn't in that deck of cards.  My bad.  What in hell did they do to my poor Mah?  It's rooted in that old nemesis, alcoholic beverages no blame, no one's fault.  Poor Mah.  Thanks, but no thanks.  I'd rather face 'reality' in my own way and ask for money when I am good and ready, if it ever comes which it may or may not.  My work may flop.  There is always that possibility hanging over me.  It is unacceptable for me to hurt anyone any further.  Sacrifices always have to be made for money and I have been through enough.  They can't take that away.

whitehouse.gov snapshot 1/18/2019
II Gemini Glyph.  'I think.'  More calling out to my fears here.  I dare you back.  Don't Think, you'll be torn down now.  Financially. Yet again.  Another financial collapse being machined by the upper echelons.  They eat their own.  Malevolent.  Monarchy.  They are the ones who want Anarchy for us, NOT US.  Some of us still believe in the promise of democracy even if it is a myth controlled by big business.  Prove Us Otherwize.  Please.  Ping!  Please stop this madness.  Towers towering over the masses.  Torn down and again, and again.  On fire.  Angelfire.  ('I') sea through their lies, along with most of the 99.9%.  Missile systems programming of the father.  It socks, I am but a tool.  A foolish tool.  And Eye No.  Thank gahd for opposition.  And dogs.  I'd much rather clean up after them.  And care for them as best I can but I sock at that too.  Thank gahd I never allowed myself to birth offspring. 

Demons, personal or otherwize?  YIKES, RuN!!!!!
Demons expressed through my nightmares from 3 am to 5 am the dawning of Jan. 15.  It culminated with (the flu is not what we think it is) gasping for breath for a few more hours every time I tried to fall asleep as this flu coupled with the geoengineering has been trying to suffocate us all around these parts unknowingly, me since the 3rd.  Gotta work through it.  I set myself up by loving my chickens too much in the summer.  The banties wanna be hugged. My best friend's brother dies of cancer.  Oh no, oh my god.

Must..stay...away..from...Tyranny T-rex Rx!!!!!
gnash, gnash, gnash
De man lived through it.  Scarred.  See what can happen when you take in strays?  Your toughlove as gotta be tough as nails on chalkboard.  Don't worry, this too shall pass.  Like a furball.

PTSD can get spontaneously vicious when triggered, you betcha,  just the wrong way Right coupled with wrong sleep deprivation over a few months.  Got a few things to fret about, but it must always be ... silently.  Don't we all?  So turn that TV Programming on as loud as you can.  The first II ex wife slept around then with a stoopid cop to get rid of you, then the stoopid cop.elf that was being manipulated by the soon to be ex was staking out your place in the shooting range! stoopid elfs abound.  To get that first unfair ding on your record and the rest was exponential.  Oh, yeah.  We both got almost murdered at birth.  I get it, and I know as well but have to keep that past of mine in de Nile with no desire to be understood.  But I am, in fact, sorry for it.  I really had wanted that bachelor's degree and crack at a half decent career helping folks out if it were not for the inflicted syndrome.  Forget you too, U/Mass Boston, jerks.  Paid off the damned loans at 52 years old with no degree.  Call it what you like.  I call it a stainless steel spoon shoved up the old...

Quatro Stagione
Winters? are rough out here at the camp?  All year round.  Cabin fever is the worst of the winter.  And maybe getting up the road in the Bad Ass Truck.  It's always something.  Yahoos.  Hicks.  Stoopid careless ATV toys for the rich, or careless drivers that see our road as a fracking playground.  He work so hard just to get the road cleared so we can access help if one of us gets hurt.  Stoopid selfish pedigree bougie neighbors.  923 livin it up in the jacuzzi with the ivy league NASTY probably smelly UGLY bougie booty.  Hack into the info and think you know the truth?  You are as bad as they are.

Phew!  Few.  Cabin fever.  Get through the struggle just to get through each day thinking freely at least thinking so, and you get to enjoy the snowshoes and go hug trees.

The walls are as old as me and only for show.  The wild fluctuations in weather are fought off with a small and very old wood stove.  It's so small and close I am yet again fighting off suffocating.  I 'pray protection over that precious tiny land boat.  Walmart spews 'no boundaries' to try to further it's Chinese bamboozling after destroying Mom and Pops stores.  CEOs collect further and share less?  WTF.  The winds howl against the machinations that try to control Mother E.  That's on them and there is always reckoning, either now or later.  Instant Justice is better but we are so puny that even decades seem like a long time to us.  It's part of the control structure.

That One Practice Speech.  That was all it took, and so long ago.  The seed planted and only now I am forced to let it grow.  This is not me.  I am being controlled just like all of us on this poor little beloved beautiful but suffering un and consciously prison planet.  'Where's the Outrage??'

Oh, yeah, and...Speaking of The Demon Machine.  Ah, NO.  Yet another poppet:

II Trump's EW birthday (puke!) pardon me, !blurp! is the day before mine (dry heaves).  I call IT's birthday Fag Day flying in his face because Freedom is True and it Flies Free in the Face of this Monster.  He must live 20 more lives in the City's Aquaduct ALL ALONE shaking rats off his nasty translucence with the Ghost of Tom Joad.  (RATM)  These folks deserve more dignity and have more spiritual strength in the tips of their fingernails than you and your entire DNA ancestry would ever have.  RAGE:  Forget you too Trump.  May you be expunged from history.  Yellow is my puke color, but it represents Gemini as well sometimes.  Insert big heart here...

No internet connections?  Just a tiny splash of color against the cyber that is terrorism through what is called internet.  Fuck you too, NSA.  WAR machines.  Blucifer, and the G Denver Airport D.U.M.B.s.  Oh, did I mention that again?  That's the true SNL skit.  Verrrrrry interesting, but Not Funny. Art Carney? Laugh In.  Keep flying overhead, @ssholes.  They are on coffee break and gotta take another crap.  We have always just been pet projects for the trainees for trying to survive with nothing to show for.

Bitter Winds
Yeah, I know, hardly anyone has time to read much and me too, especially because I have a real hard time reading and absorbing it with loud @ss TV programming at my right brain.  Change it up.  It is hardly read?  Maybe and No Auntie Mad Hatter.  This is yet another child, it is written and out in the ethers.  Writing.  Magic.  Expression makes me feel that I am potentially still alive and well.  No one here that I know of has time to hear my thought anyway, it's too bizarre and generates fear.  Shackles, on, frantic midnight typing before the makework of life dawns yet again.  'Papa' was gonna write about the Rx machine, welcome, my sun before the two of us got ripped away from each other.  Twisted.  Twist?

Two feet expected to sock us in.  Then bitter winds, possibly 30 below.  Depends of how good of slaves we are and how bad the Chafe dumps work with the radar and micro waves through satellite.  Shut the front door!  Choke!  Wheeze...

Cat Naps
Grab your cat naps between stoking the stove every 4 hours so the pipes don't freeze all fans blasting the heat around in the freeze resting up from the flu, wheezing yourself choking awake and sometimes working your ass off:  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Ah, winters out here.  It ain't never quiet.  Unless you're outside.  Get through them winters and you may live to enjoy another summer.  Unless there is an eviction notice.

They Cook The Books
They cook the numbers.  All of them, not just elections.  Electronic mass control.  For a very long time.  The War Machine's Web?  I agree.  Yet so many rebelle' within this - and even the medium of TV.  Thank gahd for this while it lasts?  Poppet strings.  The dollarS of all denominationS in de fiat control.  Words.  Word up.  Each word can have endless meanings, even individually.  Just like us people.  I hate my own guts for ever wanting to make money.

Nemesis and Planet X
The archetype of nemesis and on Nemesis.  What, do they want us to see it as a relief??  No!  Our souls are way too strong for that.

I always hold out the possiblitry that it is in fact yet another myth used to control us through fear the PlanetX theory, and we build our cottages up all around it to date, but the evidence throughout the history we are allowed to come to know if we are well healed or lucky or seek it out or all of the above, cryptic as it may be, in conjunction with true witnesses that have fallen before us because their minds could not be controlled.  Is PlanetX real?  Is it real, or a myth.  You decide.  Not them, they who try to control us through their Bluefangs.  You.  Project Bluebeam?  Why?  Their war drum beat goes on.  Fe`  Blucifer and Denver airport, G?  It all begins to be the D.U.M.B.S. and add up.  The Taxes they rip out of our flesh seem mostly Demonic, and in deed and they need not be that way.  So.  No more depression or any other kind of pills, just toothpicks in my eyes keeping them open, so to speak.  Reptillians, anyone?  He who in hell knows.  The Grimace and his mechanical 'heart friends'.  Control through war mass confusion and fear.  WTF??

More compulsive and too much writing as life's blood in winter minus the gardens under an increasingly webby skies.  Wheeeze.  Cat naps.  Bastards.  Don't worry, no one will be able to stomach reading it anyway.  It is out of love, after all, truth, toughlove, isn't it?  And of course too many words.

X-Philes
11 Chris was more write than they may have known about what is an 'Audioslave but we know now with the permanent swords through the ... heart. 

Amazing guitar, you.  Midnight blues.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.  Personally, I suffered from vicious auditory hallucinations.  Just more susceptible than most?  My Mah got the radio from her fillings in her teeth in NYC back in the late 50s.  But so many are that way.  It's what the evil ones fear most.  Clairaudience and CARING and that of all kinds.  We can 'see through It.  Getting slipped the mickey with acid that first day of 6th grade didn't help my brain's matters.  Never cared for the subsequent experimentation nor what addiction did to people.  Had my legal addiction problems to cope with, what is the difference?  You decide.

On cold turkey giving up beloved whine, bear since April Fools day of this year.  All the colors came out.  Salute`.  Cheers.  Cheerios.  (choke!)  !Pop!  Yet another bubble gets it.

For me ongoing as one of the billions of fans out there it's oh, a commercial INTERRUPTION just a sec.  Just Shut Up and Listen don't express yourself because you are not rooted in the reality that is news and Politics and What's really going on equals:  = TV Programming???  Suck down another drink?  No.  My true thoughts, and opinions and using creativity to bear against it are not exactly fun. Fear that I will be forced into another mental prison butt this time shackled physically and mentally for life.  Overcome.

In clarity I am who I truly am.  Chicken shit?  Yeah.  Memory and all.  Yet one more ball of wax amongst the masses creating the true Ball of Wax.  The world is a melting pot.  Not just one cunt tree.  I call bullshit on all of it, I would blow TV programming up, then sort out the gems in the piles, pyres or whatever, and there are gems in there that can help you use your own mind to discern the teachings.  Meditation helps reveal things to you.  The desire to know the Akashic Record.  Only have it on a little bit occasionally, from time to time, cherry picking the best shows like Scotty Kilmer on the nemesis that are our beloved love/hate vehicles.  Enter the mustang story.  Oh, the pain, oh, god No.

Mustang?  A nice old ride and the older the better, but...English language is a conspiracy in and of itself.  Must-train.  Must unfree the horse from it's freedom through fettering?  No.  Those vicious assholes treat the Wild Horses with vile disrespect.  The last holdouts.  I would like them to do to themselves and their precious families what they do to those precious families of Wild Horses.  Forget You Fake Bastards Too.  Blam!  Guns God and Money.  Karma.  Sooner or later, you monsters.  Leave those Wild Horses bee!  God, the heart wrenching that this Mother E suffers from every living second of every living day.  Rape on the grandest scale every god forsaken second.  Try to breathe.

The altar of TV worshipping a rude fabricated reality enriching all who play a part in producing it.  Think this.  Act out that.  Shoot guns.  No wonder there is so much violence and mayhem, we are taught it from the damned TV telly shows and movies of what's 'really going on out there'.  I'm in here though, in my mind.  But talking overall on the Shit Box that is Tell Lie Vision, aggressive digression between devil, oh, I mean Big Business worship because truly there can be found lessons to be learned from the vicious thing.  Oh, few, it's off now for a few blessed mind resting minutes and I can think my own thoughts again without forcing, without being arrested by the tele vision that is a lie, where they all feed from the same horses' feeding trough that is the worship of money through false advertising.  I know, too much generalization, and too many words.  I live in a shop vac. but I am still alive as well.  But a pawn pond fraud frond.  Peace?

Economic Recessions
Engineering, anyone??  Products: do we consume them or is it just the opposite?  Or somewhere in between.  Roman coins.  They keep chipping away at.  Acting out the past.  Go food shopping.  Check out.


Dawn
I worship the dawning in the wood.  It can be the best time of the day.  Get a jumpstart on it.  The birds slowly wake up and sing songs among each other, that escalate into a given day, depending on weather and seasons.  Sets of songs that reflect each season.  Quattro stagione.  Feels just.  When I was allowed to live at the 'Space Buggy' in NH through the guise of familial ownership it was the best in so many ways, except for the fact that Mah's wishes included I live alone there, and her true intentions were for it to Not be in the family but for Me to take over as owner of that buggy.  I had named it in the Trust but she refused to follow through.  Too stupid with resources.  I wanted my brother to know it was again not just for me.  Nope.  Then the neighborhood thought I was rich.  Cruel backward freaks. 

The most beloved thing about that place was the fact that my stereo dominated it auditorily.  I had the old fashioned analog reception for both that and the kicker?  My Nemesis in reality, all my life, the TV mind/body/attempted spirit/soul programmer.  It was a heavy inheritance that TV, among the discarded familial furniture of antiques and painfully sentimental effect of a family I would never know, yet again, whose monetary value had been stripped on and polyurathaned or painted yellow.  I needed help to place it on it's perch where it dominated too much space with its promise of programming my mind.  I got one channel in enough through the antennae, my access to the blessed last soldier standing analog, to access a fuzzy, buzzy CBS.  I'd turn it on when the subconscious rape nightmares came that prevented me from falling asleep for the next day hiding my face as the microscopic cog it is behind and for some good old white men's !Pop! THE machine.  ON, ON, On, chewing up my thoughts and spitting them out into my face.  They handed me the diagnoses over the years, unknowingly, all part of the Big Lie.  Rx Tyranny Rex.

They converted to digital from analog TV airwaves on my 2nd ex's birthday that year.  Freakish.

I had heartily agreed with that objective, Work for a Living toward True Independence later in life, truly believing I had it in me to work that hard now that the shackles of a husband son two-team had been emancipated.  A greed.  That is a problem.  But that perhaps good objective, lifelong financial security (+ mort gag = myth) changed over only a few years with increasing anxiety over the fact that my eyes were bigger than what my capabilities had become in my fourth decade.  I could not in fact survive there in that camp without giving up my silly dream of obtaining a bachelors degree and continuing on falling or getting kicked off every ladder I tried to climb anyway, as the vocations I fell into to make a survival for myself were always attacked by the presidential administrations anyway.  The blue tech bubble burst, remember that one in the 90s?  I was studying/working to become the web developer designer I come to realise were my new shackles.  The syndrome saw to cyclical falling down, as well as my inablility to overcome the infantile compulsion to fear abjectly all authority especially women with over reaching power and not know why.  Rudely awakened from that through yet another politically engineered economic nightmare which was in fact the Great Depression of 2008 FUCK OFF how it is spun.  So silly that what now I realise it was only a moving target, the mirage that my father had held onto for dear life.  American Dream.  Run hungry and terrorized from the Nazis to it.  Frying pan = fire.

Beer for example.  Consume it or let it consume you?  I loved that stuff.  Local microbrews especially.  Hops?  Bubbles and !Pop! the bubba with the pretty pictures labeled, some true amazing artwork that helps you imagine while the beer sucks you back.  Suck it down, drown out the programming.  No worries.  Golden elixirs soothing (numbing)  everything in your body from the second brain, the gut.  Cigarettes?  Products engineered to control your mind/body to go back every day and buy more.  Enrich some of the worst C.E.O.s imaginable.  Yeah, who has time to make your own beer, grow all those ingredients with the love they need, hops are a challenge for example and that is just the hops.  Grow your own tobacco, now that is stuff that can be used to expand your mind if you don't let it consume you.  Depends on the folk.  It's a great community builder, relaxer and helps you block out the war on human health long enough to get a few zeez here and there, but whoa, the hangoverz zuck.  I always end up using the shit against myself so I can zone out and escape into reading or getting zucked into the ever present Shit Box Altar of Mind and Thought and What You Were supposed to have Bought into.  Programming.  George Orwell's 1984 was required reading when I was struggling to not attend a different high school for five successive tries.  Fucked over on that, yet again.  Can't beat em to join em or even join the school within a school at Brookline High (hign on exacly what) when they think you are richer than they.

When I arrived here I had warned the man who was trying to help me salvage what was left of my life, that alcohol was my nemesis.  Didn't take.  I dumped all my problems on the poor man.  He didn't understand where I was coming from.  It is my problem, not his.  Since I tried to drown myself with it at 12 several times, hard alcohol guzzled straight is no joke it guzzles you, got a band of cohorts from school that year to skip school help me guzzle it all drown.   Didn't work, my parents got rid of their collection of gallons and liters and substituted with ew at that time - red California wine.  Father only drank two tiny ceremonially Italian glasses of it at night. Now that is how to drink.  Mother gave it up and drowned in insomnia and over working.  I tried to help her then with stealing her Quaaludes, trying to drown myself out with 3 Rochas twice before she caught on and got rid of those two.  Indifference from the school counselor because she was maybe in love with my peer.  Yup.  That was 7th grade at Sanborn Middle School in Concord Massachusetts.  Fuck you too, lady. 

Mah always seemed to work jobs so couldn't hide a damned thing from the little scamp.  Latchkey. This was systemic in society. Damned but beloved survival instinct trumps !  Gahd how I hate that word now.  It was so funny that time she had finally finished the constant working, working working both the job and the housework and dreaded caring for children/supper and cleanup so she could try to wind down enough to stay up and read in peace one of her true loves: books that helped her with the insomnia but then she forgot she had to try to rest for the next slavery-day.  All she wanted to do was go read her beloved fiction books and be left alone poor woman.  My first words were ma and pa and 'leave alone'.  But that was the best time to ask her for attention, but no, it really was the worst and only time.  Who the hell was pulling the strings on this play?  The machine raged on the fakeness that mostly is TV with each click of the clock.  Tic.  Toc.

The Norwegian quarter that fights with my British quarter that fights with the origiinally Southern Italian other heritage half.  Gemini the twins, Cain and Able that silly fable.  'I think.'  Stop that writing?  No, it is just my new set of shackles and I can think and breathe on my own with these, they are invisible but truly real and rooted in reality.  True that?  Change.

So I am of the belief system (yes, I call my personal beliefs a 'belief system' but that just pisses off the man who believes he is rooted through the News that equals reality to him) hey, dudez0, go ahead please be my guesst and believe what you want to but do not force your belief system on me.

A belief system allows for many schools of thought within one entity.  Warring factions?  You could look at it that way but I for me?  No.  No war.  Peace.  I prefer schools of thought within me that bring to the table different perspectives that continually evolve over time struggling to stay as one with the only constant we have on this planet equals change.


zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Charlie B jsut passed, I'm so sorry. Please Rest in Peace. No More Rabbi Ziggy-Boozer for you.  Your soul is good, at peace, you were too young to go.  They lost you in body only just the 16th, ripped away from your family.  You are a good soul.  You helped many people experience joy.  Remember Earwig the teeny boatlette?  On 1.17 which is your sisters and my number that we have obsessed over the years about how it keeps coming to us in different ways.  So sad for you all.  We like to look at synchronicity and symbolism that way and try to make it good away from any attempted outside sinister underpinnings.  A form of rebellion perhaps.  Silly, so what?


Charlie was too ill to read this.  It will probably be discarded with no time or will to read.  So here it is again.

A Prayer For You All

from Adaline the Incredulous

   
Wed, Jan 9, 11:06 AM (9 days ago)
   
to Charles who I had nothing to do with most of my life anyway.
I have been praying for you, Charles and your family anyway since you got sick, but here is a copy of this message, about back in the day.
To your sister:  "I remember how when I took refuge at your home, how handsome your big brother was, (and how even though I thought all his friends were so 'boo-gee', that they were benevolent to us younger girls, and how I did not fear them in the least.  They never did leer at nor act inappropriately with us, or make us feel anything but protected, in other words, they were all perfect gentlemen even though they were so young.  (besides the sibling rivalry that can go on with siblings)"

I am so very sorry for your wife and family, for Charlie B, and for your entire family and friends...you all.  Blessings to all of you during this unfair and extremely difficult time.


They will never read it, no worries.
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

IT  Before It took over.  It tries to get it's hooks into all of us, even if we are good.  Evil incarnate.

Hat tip to Stephen King. 

Hopefully these Monstrous for your health Drinks, and you know those three glyphs in Israeli are in cruel translation in fact '666' just like Kushner who can read, and 'family', the cheap beer in cans, cigarettes and self ruination will not be passed on from swimming in a wireless soup of vaping and chasing the almighty dollar.  Vapid vaping.  The poor kids of this generation, poor not as in money if you can afford that toxic shit.  It's just the bad Israelis too, they are not all alike!!!  Good Israelis are out there too, believe it or not.  My god, Palestine, it is NOT FAIR what has been done to That Country and it must stop NOW!!!  Stop the madness and for all the children of this beautiful planet, let's all just freaking get along, somehow, some and in any wayz, PLEAZE!!!!!  Greed is a disease.

Monster Energy
monsterenergy.com
In some ways as devastating as it is, the lack of money can force shields off so the spirit and mind can develop with more integrity without that twisted thinking running interference.  If yours can live through it and too many can't, greed is a disease.  Give us homes and communities!  For good Gods' sakes!  Just true base survival creates too keen a perception of truth, if you can survive that is.  Only the fittest through Spirit Love and Perseverance survive into centarianism on Earth.

One has to believe they can survive to have half a chance to luck out and actually survive with the body for the duration of a life.  !Blip!  Homelessness sucking to no end out of the lifesblood in the process through no rest.  No Rest!  (Zack De La...) Truth is, we are all shackled by invisible parasitic vampirism.  They masquerade as Human.  Demons in the flesh and in spirit controlled by so few that some call it The Demon that increasingly like a cancer controls to force us to make money to feed our blessings and creations, running for our very lives so to speak, even if in a standstill, most of us bear the what are supposed to be blessed children.  Suffer not, the child.  Us adults struggling to keep them shielded so they can laugh, learn, receive the love of protection and hopefully unfettered guidance to be themselves rather than extensions of us. 

Guilded cage or the days go on, water flowing under.  Talking Heads can yeah, fuck off.  No less.  No more.  I am but yet another a humble pawn, one of billions in this too often cruel game called life on Mother E.  Witch I am through still possessing life gripping and holding onto for dear now for a long assed duration just to spite the fuckers that have tried to make me suicide myself as they have been planning for the entirety of my distorted ego ridden life before I was born.  It's payback from the last go round where I cut the cord too short.  I think.  Why do I isolate?  What do you truly think/feel?  Don't ask, please.  I'd be the dunce cap searching for a corner to face where the cap won't get knocked off in a round room of like minded individuals all just trying to have a good time instead of facing the distortion that masquerades as reality.  Or more hopefully now.

Please Universe may Peace Be within Us All as One.  No NUKES!  No New World Order!   So be it, and so it is.  Ground!

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