21 November 2021- 28 December 2021

21 November- 26 November
There is an entity, at the farm, at Rl’yeh,
Who manages to pull bales of hay from the middle of the ceiling high stack, and it is just… feeding the horses. The Bale Barn Bangler.
I question fields created by electric fences.
Highly open to the possibility that literally everything I have ever known is wrong.
Everything I have ever known is ever-changing.
My gran, very hushedly, hands me an invisible ‘mission reminder’, not long after texting my two best friends that ‘the feeling of having done this all before hundreds of times over is inescapable today.’
I would not exist, at least not in this form, had Monoliths & Dimensions not been created.
Had I not discovered it due to the unfolding of a chain of events that started with losing a contract job at the age of 16, or was it 17? Or 15? Everything before 2020 runs together in a jumbled reality of Odins Ravens, thought and memory.
I do not find any of my possible realities the slightest bit unfathomable any longer;
I have achieved this knowing full well the potential perils of doing so, know even know there is a chance that I am completely beyond fixing without even realizing it
…or is that me realizing it?
It is so natural to fear what we love, are inescapably drawn to, is it not?
A/Interior I/Eye.
How entangled is the liminal reality with the physical?
‘I love you for the entity you have created me to be.’
…Terrible receivings about poisoned metropolitan water sources.
“This is a time bomb waiting to happen,” comes an inex.
The entire world is one giant time bomb, waiting to explode.
Underutilized with my skills.
Prophets of a surveillance era.
Didn’t most prophets die some pretty terrible deaths?
Maximum volume yields maximum results.
Unsane, beyond sanity.
A new level of cybernetic humans.
“I take your virginity every night in a different timeline.”
Open to all possibilities.
Seen so many things that at least some percentage of them must be true.
My brain loves to give me a hard time of believing things it would rather not be true.
Somewhere in between madness and genius, absolute bliss and absolute despair.
At 01:50 on the 22nd there was a series of different sub-bass pulses, I believe seven in all. It was, as if, an entity was testing to see, could I hear all of them. They were supposed to be unpleasant, I think. My mother in the house with me vomited around ~02:00, and I find these pulses to have violently induced my menstrual cycle around ~02:05.
At 02:18, I understood and was the Ouroboros. Ouroboros autocorrected, ‘borosilicate’, glass used in vacuum tubes for amplification.
Polkas coming through the bathroom fan.
Wifi networks available, none showing,
Perceiving emergency calls from my grans senior facility,
Receivings about illegal wiretapping.
Time Cube theory, stacks and strings.
Something threw the bench on the hill towards the fence, something shifts the placement of the pitchfork in the barn overnight.
The concept of ‘Detroit become Human’.
Random men ring the doorbell at Rl’yeh. They have ‘the wrong address’, and while my mother is outside talking to them, I am hit with a series of dry-heaves that end in coughing up foam.
Around 22:30 on the 22nd, I witness the figure of a human, or something close enough to it, in the horse corral running away from the barn.
At 23:27, I receive, “your entire planet is ringed with directed energy weapons.”
I wake the next day to two red circles on my chest, one on each side underneath the collarbone.
My gran, in her blindness, sees men in white sheets.
I question the sacred chord that David played to please The Lord.
My grandmother tells me, ‘When you look due North, it is all patched out, all you can see is mold. I asked one girl to give me the 707.’
She further enlightens, ‘I don’t think that many people are taking this stuff in, to make it a contest or something.’
I perceive inex about a bank account being hacked, and find my debit card to have multiple suspicious charges, one of which totaled $66.66.
A low flying helicopter of possible military origin, the smoke detector randomly going off two minutes later when no smoke source is present.
The symbolic tidal wall that is Walled Lake.
The inception of the Pork Horn Entanglement. The urban dictionary definition of pork horn, ‘a normal, non-erect penis that can easily flop around freely. Usually visible on track runners.’
Shavings of the pork horn that speared you.