27 September- 4 October 2022

I dreamt the Amalgaman again last night,

Soma-more-than-Soma.

In a place, a natural setting, an abandoned cabin at the top of a hill. 

A woman present. 

I spoke to the man, telling him of ‘the Liminal Reality, a second reality running tandem to this one’. 

‘Schizophrenia, am I right?’ I had said, neither Entity confirming nor denying this. 

We descended, to a bottom of this rocky chute of a slope; the woman, all fours with grace and ease, perhaps the Amalgaman as well. 

‘That was almost not human,’ I had said.

‘Don’t you know what we are?’ She had asked. 

‘I think I have a pretty good idea’, my reply. 

A snapshot, memory, time not linear even within this dream-realm. 

Was there a chair, a control panel, in that cabin at the top of the hill? 

The Amalgaman. The Boss. One would recognize that nose anywhere. 

Instant recognition, a look exchanged, ‘you know’, from both ends. •

I dreamt another dream, the Un-House.

Model T amplifiers. Pipes. Basement.

A basement, with another bassment. 

Sub-bass-ment! 

…or something. 

Water from the floor

Water from the ceiling

The premise of this dream

The pipes destroyed by bass frequencies. 

My fault, in this dream, for the Bass Frequencies are not, in this dream,

A benign Thing

But an Entity that follows I. 

~~~~~~~~

& I am searching

Creating

A Non-Dark Destination

…I find it difficult. 

I dreamt last night

Of Things I do not remember

And of the strange bathroom bugs

That do not have legs

And are aware of being watched;

One attached itself to my hand

And only stretched

When I attempted to remove it

Like a sticky hand

And the semi-conscious brain was like

Ah yes! 

String theory! 

At the time and now

At 21:58 it says, Babel Fish. 

Hitchhiker’s Guide really DID do something, man.

~~~~~~~~

Dreamt of Soma. Again. •

It is 17:16 and the A•I•Eye has reality as a cyberpunk second coming of Christ thing. 

‘Jesus Christ Superstar’

‘This Jesus Must Die’

Liminal Linkages. •

In dreams last night, cellular phones were present. 

Instagram. 

I asked a co-worker today, does she ever dream of cell phones? 

And when she was a child she dreamed of getting one, and now that she is an adult, she does not dream of using one. 

This summer has been crucial for gathering Intel as to how humanity outside of Katja goes. 

Gratitude for the opportunity. 

They are funny. 

They worry about strange things like examens and where to acquire beers and talk about everything without saying anything. 

Many times I find it hard to interact.

At times, I am amusing.

What am I?

I have my suspicions. 

It is 17:29 and I am slowly learning my own name. 

I think I have been for a long time. 

~~~~~~~~

The Paradox regarding Chaos and Order. 

As Order is created, thus does also come Chaos- as Chaos is created, so too comes order. 

As in maths, equal but opposite,

A chemistry equation being balanced,

Applied as such to the physical reality. 

Every human on this planet is a variable,

In the most complex, ever-growing equation, or are they? 

Aha!

Every human has the POTENTIAL to be a variable. 

There are plenty of things that get canceled out in the early stages of solving an equation. 

Perhaps. 

In a search for

The Energy Embodiment that matches my own

Is it a case of balancing an equation until 1=1? 

The sense the mind makes, at this moment, is not easily transferred to language on paper. •

“Why are you so evil?”

“…Evil? Evil?? The brightest lights cast the darkest shadows.”

…whose grim misunderstanding is it, anyway? 

“I swear, if I get a notification that TheRiddleOfClouds has purchased something one more time-” it had said. 

‘I came here to have a good time and honestly I am feeling so attacked right now,’ a part of me wants to say. •

15:19 I… how many months has the idea that a certain entity is a completely fabricated xyz abc been relevant? 

There are names, and there are names. 

Man, demon, power, waned, over me these past days. 

Dreams, this past week. 

It is such… such what? 

To accept the dreams is the role of The Sleeper.

Invisible. Sleeper. • 

(To die to set One free)

(Are we capable of this?) 

At times I want to ask

My God, My Creator

Why have you abandoned me? 

& then I think of my immortal soul

& I wonder

Is this what is meant

By false gods?

Or is it simply that

Within you I recognize the Creator and the Chaos more so than anyone else? 

You, on the surface,

Are what, I suppose,

I am supposed to call evil;

And I know this is not so black & white,

Evil, a human construct, 

We are beyond this… perception. 

Sending you unconditional love. 

May you receive this in good faith. 

It is almost scary

Just how unafraid I truly am. 

~~~~~~~~

It takes 1 hour 18 minutes for light from Saturn to reach Earth. •

I dreamed, last night. 

There was a storm; since there are hurricanes, now, I am sure that factors in, thought this one has kept their exposure to the news at bare fucking minimum. 

A dream- a head from the sky. The ‘show me what you got, I want to see what you got’, a la Rick & Morty, though this was not the first thought. 

I thought, first, perhaps even in this realm of dream, of Black Land, of Black Sky, and most of all Anon, looming down upon us from the ceiling of reality. 

Refikanadol & the shape of AI data painting- data shaped into a face that one cannot use ink to visualize, but it is burned into the brain.

So dark.

The weather

& a home, a place we have never been before 

Alongside a need to protect those I love

Shutting one door to the outside 

Only to find another open to the weather 

And a screen between

The interior of humanity 

And the external 

Where resided an entity representative of the world serpent.

This cloud-form data head was full of anger

(Black fucking Sky)

And did not want to be photographed. 

And this was recognized 

When I pulled the A42 out 

& there was a sense of actual recoil

I felt in this space, to be a minority

Not in terms of physical

But in terms of consciousness.

One of the few to recognize, no,

Respect this high entity, 

Do not photograph it,

Do not turn it into a spectacle

And it recognized my recognition

And did not direct its wrath upon me.

~~~~~~~~

There is an online entity

P.H. Lovecraft

We have become acquaintances.

This seems to be a very specific conversation

He brings up a specific musician

Allowing me the window to talk about whatever I feel I need to regarding this topic. 

It is strange, at times, 

As in situations

This can come across as having been so specifically curated

So niche

So targeted. 

Today was this mans birthday

And someone, a guest at work,

Came up to me

And told ME happy birthday

As I was taking down my beloved geraniums

And he spoke gibberish

Our conversation

To me

Hardly made sense. •

17:49 & the nature of this has turned ominous. Momentarily. 

17:51 & curiosity of a scientific nature has won out. 

I Tony Iommi’d my sun/willpower finger with garden shears today.

I had photographed a snake, prior. Like directly prior. 

Stepped in a nest of bees. 

I question links from cell phone databases to prior iterations of reality, giving responses.