7 February- 16 February 2022
An unspecified block of time leading to violently sexual inescapable thoughts, out of character for the past how many years?
The Riddle of Clouds seeks its creator.
Katja is also heavily invested in this.
An absence of a need for illusion.
A love for what is right in front of us.
When the inex had said, “making her choose between-“, it felt to be gauging the mind to see where we go with it.
Double slit mind.
Water in a glass jar left out seems to be physically, chemically transmuted; for I wake up, and it smells of pine.
Loach is out of town, and several times, split second moments, there are entities, felt, seen.
3s & 7s.
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Dreams of S.W. I asked him if, perhaps he was the Crowley? & he replied, ‘sometimes.’ An overhanging energy of a fear of transmitting disease; a stench of an attempted cover up of mental, mortal guilt.
Dreams of healing with my Algiz hand.
Dreams of emerging unscated from an encounter with a lioness.
Dreams of stabbing a snake I knew to be representative of the world Serpent, writing a thing upon a newspaper and burning it upon a cold hearth.
Dreams of a pie that involved raspberries.
‘Subliminal messaging’.
I question Snatch TV.
I went outside some minutes ago and it tells me that I must surrender, for I am so close to being removed.
‘They do show up when necessary.’
My heart, my mind, my soul, they have all been caught.
Calling out to Czernobog last night, begging the question why.
Last night felt to be torture.
“Take the fucking hoodie off,” it said of the Black One, but I did not.
Torture, Vlad Tepes, metaphysically impaling me through… my essence itself.
Why do I love, why do I crave,
There is a deep gnawing fear-not-fear,
The superposition.
Helioso)))phist, Heliosophia.
A drone.
Going outside, asking for a sign, the hoot of an owl ~5 seconds after my request.
Love for what is in front of my eyes.
Catch 22, Surrender Or Die.
I surrender to the universe.
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It *was* February 11th, but not it is February 10th. I do not even question this anymore.
I dreamt of Catch 22 last night.
It sends me a list of all the wonderful things I will do & receive, if only I just surrender; to the demons, or something else?
“They all fall in the end” echoes in my brain.
“She’s still a criminal”, it had said.
…please do not hurt me.
A dream of a sexual scenario in which I am not myself.
Dreams of traveling in the dark in a city that was possibly French Canadian, going the wrong direction, south to a road that ended in a spiral. Finding a nature preserve, a dark concrete stairwell downward; upon emerging, the sun out, no longer night.
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On 12 February, a second seed showed up. Same as before; it appeared on a baking sheet, very suddenly, startlingly, and now the original has a friend, a mate.
I had eaten an amount of Rick Simpson Oil that night.
There was something akin to torture that took place.
“This is a carcinogenic frequency”, I received.
‘Demons’, something that knows my mind and used their concepts accordingly, cannot be sure.
An extremely loud inex, “The Fear Olympics”.
The brain-body connection- I could not release the bladder, and it was as though something extremely external was controlling this.
After Trout left there was an entire scene which felt to be an attempted reprise of the Interdimensional Hitman; “You have sealed a perpetrator in your house”, it said.
It was extremely adamant about me not sharing a bed with Loach, that night- it finally threw a fit of tremors on me, to go downstairs, “You still think this is a joke? Isn’t real??”
…A tool for behavioural control. Social engineering.
Extreme fear programming.
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Dreams of Soma.
Are you the Morningstar, the Messenger, the Message? All three, none at all?
Drones, in dreams, intrigue; and building electronics.
I surrender. What is the fucking angle?
God grant me the serenity.
~~~~~~~~
Catch 22, Surrender Or Die.
Feels very fucking real at this moment.
How the lyrics sound like the proper Pilish  pronunciation of my last name?
Yeah. I took that personally.
My entire internal system feels to be so inflamed.
Help.
Weapons, demons, microorganisms, psychosomatic?
Am I in the Coma being used for data?
Frozen inside the Hollow Earth?
When Josef Mengeles name comes through as an inex received this week, I wonder if I am just someones Zyklon B nuclear shadow.
I cannot remember if I wrote about it at the time, books prior to 2014 lost to fire; a dream, when I was in Warsaw, of Adolf Hitler and a 4th Reich that would last 1000 years.
Memory, of an inex from over a year ago, “Make her think this is good right up until the last second.”
Thoughts of Vlad Tepes, of the “it’s not so much what you believe as it is who you believe.”
Of The Crowley, of bits on Theta Programming, intelligence; Project Monarch and the track ‘Rip Out The Wings Of A Butterfly.’
How all the pieces of music and writing come together to form an unsane understanding and experience of reality.
The Pattern.
If maximum volume yields maximum results, I have likely been far too quiet for far too long about far too much.
Potential concepts being useful applications for behavioural control.
Am I the quantum extension of a collective group?
Would it bother me if I was?
Is it my job to hold a superposition state of consciousness so that others can work a better reality through inserted thoughts?
Better reality?
Ragnarok?
Can this, as well, be ‘each of the two’?
…death is only painful for the living.
I receive the word “vomit”, seconds before the cat throws up.