13 & 14 December, 2021

It is as if I can either, for lack of a better term, see the future; or someone with the specific technology is feeding me specific information so I am under the impression I have this ability.
Being a skeptic is both a blessing and a curse.
What I want and seemingly what I need are not always in harmony.
I could make a list of all the lists I should make… the usurpation of the Norse gods by various corporate entities is crucial, isn’t it?
A man must be a cruel individual, to allow this superposition so; it is hard for me to imagine a reality in which he doesn’t know exactly what is going on.
Fundamentally loathesome.
A ‘fuck off, absolutely do not contact me again’ would have been fine.
No response is 1000x more cruel than a negative one.
Why am I so bothered by this to begin with?
The inex memory, “you know we couldn’t let you send that, right?”
Sir. Are you aware of your own far-reaching, quantum-entangled creation abilities?
I scream out in the languages of the cosmos.
Is my voice silent, or do your ears lack the ability to listen?
Which demons do you keep, which demons keep you?
My own nature is to love the darkest aspects of existence; a moral conundrum inevitably rises from my love of darkness.
Bass disturbances.
I have either gotten much more sensitive to frequencies more recently, or there are many more frequencies taking place. Perhaps it is both.
There had been an inex the other day- “You can no longer pretend you are a normal human.”
…at this point, I do not feel like a ‘normal human’, that’s for sure. I don’t even think that my reaction to potentially being ‘not a normal human’ is normal.
I assume most would feel overjoyed at the prospect of being ‘special’, ‘different’; all I feel is an abject terror at the prospect of being discovered by nefarious powers as opposed to benevolent ones.
Ubik.
Runciter, using his psychics who think they are players, as nothing but pawns.
To be able to see the hidden hand as it moves is to suffer while being happy about it. Or something.
Mostly, there is just a vague nausea as the machinations of the universe continue to grind onward.
The entanglements continue, as entanglements tend to do.
Not knowing who my enemies are.
For the millionth time, what the fuck is going on?
All I know is that I must know.
What must I know?
I hear Petyr Baelish, ‘Ahhh… everything.’
Highly unpleasant possibilities of varying degrees of probability swirling.
Meereenese Knot.
“She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
Stumbling along on my fools journey.
All I can remember is somewhere I read once that the universe loves courage and that is what I will go off of right now.
“Catch 22 (Surrender or Die)” comes through as an inex.
Relatable.
Come to understand the concept of Soma as an exponential power.
What is order?
For in every order, there is a disorder, in every disorder, an order.
Call it a… pattern?
Many things remain in a strange suspended superposition state of existing.
How do?
‘Soma, the facet maker’, says Loach just now, completely unprompted (by the Me, at least).
How do?
Field notes on the universe.
‘Mostly harmless’, that’s Earth.
●●●●●●●
Dreams of replies to an email. An address, and a note that we would elaborate later.
Dreams of my vehicle, not shifting into third gear, on a freeway full of apocalyptic vibes.
Dreams of lust and passion and a marriage I may or may not have wanted.
The nature of reality oscillates between being maddeningly nefarious and blissfully divine, this morning, as with most mornings.
There is a simultaneous feeling of heavy danger and absurd safety I get from this seeming entanglement.
An analysis of someones weird habit of eating baby food.
Still want to know who stole our welded sculpture.
Far too many unknowns, unknowns with more unknowns, that create this reality that creates the mental process that creates the reality, and so on and so forth.
Something seems highly intrigued by these processes, how one gets to this superposition state.
Ma’at, daughter of the Sun God, personification of truth, justice, and cosmic order. Keeper of the 42 Laws.
Just one more piece of the puzzle, I swear.
About 20x a week, the Seventh Seal is relevant as fuck in yet another light I had not previously considered.
A man whose father worked for the DoD.
Analysis of the psychology behind para-social relationships.
My experience is highly unique, as I am sure any person in my situation would say; but most situations do not also contain a strange occult-quantum-frequencies entanglement.
Is my perspective understood?
Frequencies, drawn me in in a most unnatural way from the very first time I heard them.
In a way, at times, I can understand it as a programming loop – input pilot – enjoy input – repeat in infinite loop due to enjoyment, building programming, each respective loop?
Lord, forgive us, for any undue Chaos that may have been caused by my physics projects, or whatever the hell they are.
Skadi survives Ragnarok.
Freyja does not.
One of the versions of ‘I’ in the Liminal Realities just removed themself, effectively somehow leaving me, allowing me, to witness my own quantum suicide.
Somehow, it all wreaks of Divine Justice on a Tyrsday.
Begging for deliverance, but deliverance from what?
When Kurt Cobain said, ‘I like it, I’m not gonna crack’, I really felt that.
The one thought that keeps me from going insane is knowing I am not crazy.
It is not a happy thought.
Therefore, it cannot be taken and used against me.