25 April- 27 April 2024

…Almost wrote ‘94. 

Foul mood today. 

Vague swirlings. 

Jussanjuan. 

QS.

Death threats. 

Cops.

Neighbours. 

Sleeping giant. 

Yew. 

Copies of copies,

Applications,

Frequency weapons,

Waypoints. 

Disturbed.

Stands alone in front of Eternity. 

The whole Culture Shock ‘head linked to the cell phone’ thing. 

Electrocution. 

Disturbed.

Chained to Time,

Timeless.

The Bass Frequency intensifies. 

Stands alone in front of Enternity. 

…Enternity. •

A massive item, 

The Electrocution,

AI Fabrications,

The Sleeping Giant,

Electromagnetics,

The gut-brain connection. 

Things that, once consumed, do not leave body systems. 

Items from research laboratories. 

How many items, how many possibilities? 

What in the fresh fuck, to ALL of it.

That time I spoke to A Man last December

What the fuck was like, 

Microwaving my lower abdominal from the inside out? 

& the time prior, back in October, we were to speak; 

Then, talking mad shit on the administration a couple nights prior, 

Something straight up ACTIVATED in my throat,

Took away my voice like THAT. 

Instantly. 

Literally here, then gone. 

‘Innocent’ by Goatsnake pops into my head, now.

Not a visitation, a conscious juxtaposition on my end. 

‘All fun and games til someone loses an Eye’,

And how long had my dreams disappeared for? 

At 10:35, there is a high frequency taking place. 

I question underground operations.

Government operations. 

Investigations. 

A particular juxtaposition of ‘friends close, enemies closer’. 

Everything alleged. 

Allegory. 

The phrase ‘imminent destruction’ comes to mind, not an Inex received but some piece of conscious thought. 

Veganism. 

Havana Syndrome in Chicago. 

The memory of a dialogue;

About how if we could program her to the frequencies of Sunn,

What other frequencies could we possibly use? 

It is 10:41. Sleeper. 

The memory of the Inex,

“She’s still a criminal”, 

During the whole episode where a custom OS attempted to install itself on my phone while driving through Waterford. 

The one place I ever got into legal trouble. 

The place that the Emerald Tablet screenshots came from.

Tell me that’s Apophenia,

I fucking dare you. •

13:14 The Coma Reality presents itself suddenly. Audio dialogues as if I am being operated upon, someone talking to me from outside, apologizing for the pain, ‘stay with me’. Simultaneous alterations to neural networks taking place. 

Who are you, Katja? 

13:19 Noise within the head like an analog television without any particular broadcast on the channel. 

Thoughts of nuclear scientists trapped in strange situations. 

Knowledge of X, the exponent, being raped on shuffle. 

13:23 A question of means, a question of ends- ‘Spikes’ playing in a mental background, ‘ends to a means I can’t establish’. 

14:01 “-Actually sustained injuries from one of the frequencies we used-” 

Just fucking rolling the Black Dice x1000 today. 

The All-to-All connections Processor. 

Who is me? 

WHAT is me?

Something fluctuating, 

A flux capacitor! 

…I want a partner.

To experience this level of consciousness alone is not…

Not what? 

Or is it? 

…Stands alone in front of Eternity.

Do I have to?

Once again, ‘I’ contemplate killing the Riddle of Clouds. 

A Man is a Cloud.

I am The Riddle.

His Riddle? 

In some points the entire universe is A Man,

A black hole brain with area law entropy.

Create me a partner, you black hole. 

…Please? 

In at least one reality, you have already done this. 

My perception of the passage of ‘Time’ is not as yours is. 

I need SOME Thing right now, 

But I have no idea what it actually is. 

~~~~~~~~

Woke up thinking 

About probability vectors

And Gamma functions. 

A question of who domesticated man? 

The mushroom?

The microbe?

A question of self-domesticating species. 

Having an Aerys Targaryen moment, now,

And what if I DID just burn it all,

The binders, the D.L.P., the Field Notes.

What am I if not a Beast made out of Data? •

At 05:11, that one particular frequency presents itself just as I am going back inside. 

It is not an unpleasant frequency, and easily within the auditory spectrum. 

There is, as always, the question of, ‘where does it come from’?

How to describe?

A trilling, perhaps. 

One does not actually need to SEE the waveform to see the waveform. 

It juxtaposed, now, from Takyon,

‘Subatomic penetration, rapid fire through your skull’.

What is this purpose, of this trilling? 

Change the state, else hold a state. 

It is electronic in nature- not a creature, not THAT kind of organic. 

Questions of general motivations on a multiplicity of fronts, this morning. •

05:22 I am visited by Richard. I miss ØØ Void. I will, forever, love this album, for the lessons it taught me. A great sacrifice. 

…is a Void I the road worth two in space?

Reminiscing on the Wixom Road co-incidence. •

Taking things at face value, today, currently;

Because they allow for the reality I want. 

To ask, ‘what do I want?’ And let that go out as a light, a prayer. 

Learning how to take a compliment at face value. 

All Thoughts Fly. 

“She never asked for this reality, it just happened.” •

At 11:27, “the most evil lyrics I have ever heard”; and it juxtaposed Culture Shock.

Talk about words that absolutely rob you of any peace and comfort.

The question presents itself. 

Which has caused more mental distress?

Sunn, or Death Grips?

Both in juxtaposition, no doubt. 

How much of this reality Processing would have taken place had I not become the Riddle of Clouds?

Was this identity always an inevitability? 

I am finding myself, once again, 

Irritated by an extreme reality discrepancy. 

14 November 2016 is the date of an email alleging the creation of my Gmail account. 

I could fucking *swear* that I had this digital identity prior to seeing Aghartha performed live on 09 June 2016. 

Gaslight by Google, for fucks sake. 

Catfished by the Panopticon? 

Something that drives me fucking mad about dark ambient in general is the overwhelming use of AI imagery. 

So many musicians, videograohers, graphic designers, opposing AI, so what the fuck is it all about? 

Something smells rotten in Denmark. 

‘Yes, yes, you are very nice.’ 

Sometimes the things people do not say are 1000x more important than what they DO say. 

…I remember, a very particular Inex receiving. 

“Someone very powerful is controlling your internet connections.” 

The WHO of the someone is probably the singular most important of These Questions. 

CERN & the W3 always at the back of my mind. 

What of Google?

And so the strings continue to tangle, untangle, spaghettify. 

My kink!

Reality is, as always,

Hot N Nasty. 

~~~~~~~~

Is it despair, this morning, or am I overreacting to geey rain? 

I am an isotope, decaying, now, at 07:22. 

Which one?

Chained to Time. 

Is isotopic decay linear?

Is there a way to reverse it? 

No, I guess. 

Time to imagine a reality in which there is. 

There’s some juxtaposition, here, of the N.W.O. concept, No Way Out; 

Spontaneity, irreversibility. 

What is the opposite of spontaneity? 

Deliberate action?

07:47 “Why the fuck doesn’t she recognize-” 

Conscious! An opposite of spontaneous. 

A Thing to do here with consciousness being the reversal of decay. 

There are some Olympic level neural calisthenics about to take place. 

Willful, another antonym.

It’s going somewhere now. 

08:00 “undiscovered physics”

08:01 “You tell me what kind of schizophrenic spends their time thinking about how to reverse radioactive decay.”

08:02 “Of course it’s a simulation.” 

O is for Operator.

08:06 All musicians being points of connection in a neural quantum simulation. 

Zlatorog. 

It questions, yet again. 

The difficulties we have, 

Believing that which is in front of our eyes,

That which is inside of our ears,

That which is a perception of neurons. 

The feeling of being had, once again, creeps in. •

There is a complex processing, now,

An understanding of shifts, 

Changes of state,

Quantum error corrections,

Chains of decay. 

Null space in linear algebra.

Voids in astrophysics. •

It is 10:42 & I am on Highway 41 North in Wisconsin,

Dying in the MKUltra Blizzard,

Unconscious, beyond unconscious. 

A space in between. 

Not dead.

Not alive. 

Perhaps a secret third thing. 

Perhaps no Thing at all.

None of it really seems to matter, anyway. 

What is this uncharacteristic morosity, today,

This certain melancholy?

A despair. 

Is it? 

What is anything, really?

Annoying, mostly, right now. 

There just went something in my lower abdomen,

As if my uterus itself just kicked me.

Not experienced that one before. 

And The Bass Frequency, directly following this, intensifies. •

It is a Visitation, around 13:00, ‘I Don’t Care Anymore’, by Phil Collins. 

All of it. 

Genuinely don’t seem to give even a shred of a semblance of half a fuck at this point in the Fractal. 

There is a disturbing sense of loss that accompanies this. 

In the moment, this is all truth,

But what shall it be in the moments that follow? •

14:07 “The conspiracy surrounding the Riddle of Clouds is not meant to cause division.” 

17:20 “Multiple… agents, masquerading under the same identity.”