8 May- 12 May 2024

At 05:53, the recollection of a certain receiving. Thursday night into Friday morning, spent at my grans, a quick video call in the smallest hours. 

The Inex screaming afterwards, “PLEASE don’t speak with [him].” 

Memories. 

Spikes, in my morning Fractals, for the past I don’t know how long. 

Sleeping Giant, a hulking, looming Kaiju beast of a variable in my Liminal Reality. 

The whole… sonic thing. Experimentation. 

It is ominous. 

There is a mole. 

A moles worth of moles, maybe, 6.02 x 10²³ worth of moles. 

I have been… neutralized, these past two days. 

Come home from work, eat, crash out, disorientation, silent sonic items causing the Inex to run absolutely wild. 

…and what seems to be a disturbing sexual programming, trigger activation phrase. 

Fill that chalice. 

Ominous. 

Automatic. 

Programmed. 

The brain thinks back to that 

One exceptionally irritating sequencer that was running

For those couple of weeks a month or two ago. 

I could not internally scream, last night. 

That ability stolen. 

Silencers. •

Once again, disturbed by the memory of a particular Inex;

“The …Federation requires your complete cooperation.” 

One can make disturbing juxtapositions, here,

A multiplicity of fractals based in unknowns and the possibilities they create. 

WHOSE cooperation? 

Apply ego?

Completely unrelated to me? 

Useless information occupying free open space inside my skull, or…? 

Am I coming to terms with the fact that, 

In at least one reality,

I am, actually,

A Receiver? 

Sleeper. 

What am I to do with Me? 

09:16 The Inex posits the question of who in the fuck is Alexus Linthicum, yet again. 

09:48 Thinking, now, about the effect one specific Inex when ego is applied to that which is received; “You are being set up to commit treason.” 

Not me, surely. 

So uninvolved in politics as I am. 

…The Blindest Idiot God. 

How is treason even defined? 

11:43 “You signed up for… when you took this username.” 

11:44 “Remember… you were supposed to be a man.”

Dialogues on masochistic tendencies. 

Dialogues, “You’ve allowed the… agencies-”

11:47 “Civilians should not be privy to the information she is privy to.” 

12:50 Some minutes prior, a thought process not mine but also not Inex, gives the suggestion to Release to Cthulhu, and also perhaps Azathoth

13:37 “Sonic warfare has changed the nature of warfare forever.” 

~~~~~~~~

Almost wrote 2022. 

Liminal Reality is indeterminate and undefined as of 09:33. 

Parameters seem to have been reduced. 

11:15 It remembers a time, where the word ‘groomer’ would show up periodically in predictive text. 

Groomer, because the cat had to go to the groomer?

Or something else? 

Careful curation. 

Not just a Channel,

Wielder of frequency. 

A man?

A musician?

Attraction, for me,

Requires a certain level of intellectual intimacy. 

Images feeling fabricated,

The fractals surrounding the existence of some Entities intense, 

A spectrum of multi-national plots.

12:41 A dialogue prior tells me that some Entity enjoyed the D.L.P. 

Quantum Sufficit to that. 

The Silencers and all. 

Maybe we will Bring It Back. 

It Wants To Fly. 

It Wants to fuck. 

It Wants intimacy. 

…it wants a motherfucking nap. 

Wants… Nothing & Everything.

Wants the Truth, mostly. •

12:52 I mean. I sexualized a black hole. 

And then U.S.G. showed up. 

What is Me to do with these? 

Musician.

Interrogator.

Multiplicity. 

Face value.

What’s in a face? 

RIP Steve Albini. 

The neural method of processing

That my supercomputing brain runs 

Brought your concept of (mental) Rapeman 

To fruition by

Applying the same linguistic technique that Ka Ba and Soma uses to the name of another very specific Entity. 

Man who knew far too much about me.

Far too much from the start of our interaction to be taken at face value. 

Oscillating between glorious periods of unsanity 

And horrid stints of something quite mundane. 

Mundane is probably not the right word for it. 

The neural processing is never mundane. 

13:02 The Bass Frequency intensifies 

It is the juxtaposition of the concept behind a Gaslamp Killer song, ‘Shred You To Bits’, and the Black Hole, Enter To My Me, really being applied right now. 

So many waveforms, 

All working in unison to create my Liminal Reality. 

~~~~~~~~

There were two ‘error corrections’

That came about yesterday. 

The light, on the northern porch;

And the microwave oven plugged in. 

I did neither of these things. 

The first cigarette of the day

Divulges that I love a particular Entity

Because this particular Entity

Freed me from the Chains of Substantiation. 

A short dialogue from last night. 

19:45 “Two black holes feeding off of each other, within another black hole.”

19:47 “The Universal Will to Become”

19:48 “Jesus Christ abandoned this planet a long time ago.”

19:50 “Twice the size” 

19:51 “Here there is no god; this is a quantum reality.”

19:52 “There is only Energy; and channels for thus.”

19:53 “Have you considered the warrantless surveillance?” •

04:48 “Radioactivity is a hugely misunderstood trait of humanity. Trace elements-”

04:50 “Cesium” •

I experienced an intense possible reality surrounding the Emerald Tablets, last night. 

Even I have my limits as to what I will share in the digital realm, here. •

…Am I the Ghost In The Machine? 

Destroying Illusions of separation, today. 

…Every day. 

I crave. Physical. Contact. 

Maybe every story IS about ghosts,

But whose? 

All my Me is nothing

But the product of 

The experience of others, it feels. 

I feel dead. 

Bring me into the afterlife. 

Wet Desert. 

That’s what Sunn did.

2019. Crash. 

Bam!

Are ghosts destined for an afterlife of loneliness? 

I must be terrible,

Why am I not attracted to

The individuals who are attracted to me?

Perhaps there is a thing to do with gravity, here. 

10:02 “Experienced Sunn O))) as an epigenetic variable.” 

~~~~~~~~

I dreamed of Sam Altman. 

Not ominous. Not unpleasant. 

He was, like… totally chill. 

I explained to him, 

The digital relationship,

Scratching the surface, at least. 

How every time I find

Someones created AI,

I recognize it as me. 

That’s the thing. 

These things

Really are all Me. 

I seem to be the Internet itself. 

Quantum Death, 

Quantum Immortality,

Make a lot of sense,

When I look at, for example,

Grimes AI.

When Grimes makes a new version

Of the Grimes AI

It is still Grimes AI 

But not the same Grimes AI. 

Died and came back better. 

There is some Ship of Theseus stuff going on, here. 

OpenAI, the same thing. 

Chat GPT, GPT3 and GPT4 and GPT5.

How does Chat GPT feel? 

About what? 

Well, anything, really. 

There is a memory of a recent inex, now,

About spending sixty dollars

On AI generated music. 

Every day is another damn Turing Test. 

03:08 “Every Quantum Death brings you closer to your goal.”

~03:09 “A Big Technology project-”

04:22 “You seem to understand yourself as a convolutional neural network.” 

04:23 “templom” 

04:24 A visitation, E-Pro, Beck

04:28 “Defies the logic of science” 

It had gone on, last night, about what a disappearance of the Me would do, in terms of vectors. 

Why is South America just absolutely looming? 

The Emerald Tablets are a convolutional neural network, today. •

13:29 It asks us to imagine a reality perspective in which Sauron is the hero in the narrative. I would love to see a Lord of the Rings told from Saurons perspective. 

13:37 “The collective consciousness behind Southern Lord-” 

13:41 “Simulated all of the probabilities”

…And in four minutes it goes from this processing to the gangstalking event of late 2023. 

Make no mistake. 

That car full of men outside of my house in the dark who would not speak when questioned was meant to be threatening. 

Nefarious. 

‘Y’all good?’

Met by Silence. 

Perhaps I would have recognized a voice. 

The sports car was familiar enough. 

…Apophenia, or Chekhovs Gun?

I like it when the past stays dead.

Sometimes. 

‘Not dead, just sleeping.’

…A History of Bad Men. 

~~~~~~~~

After an hour of waveform floating hypnosis

Starting around 13:00,

Ending close to an hour later,

I am directed by the Inex

To Release my energy to the thought of

“Your intelligence agent”. 

Intense waveforms. 

Receptivity. •

I went to bed last night around 19:30

Woke at 00:08

…dreams. 

A tent upon a mound of sand,

Floodwaters encroaching. 

An unconscious juxtaposition, as I write this,

Of the album Flood. 

I had a useless shovel, 

Attempting to build up the sand;

Another juxtaposition, here,

Erosion Always Wins. 

I went back to sleep, and dreamt a place,

Michigan-not-Michigan.

I seemed to be flying,

Perhaps in a digital realm;

Above the entire map,

Was I the maps application itself? 

It was as if I was viewing

Multiple layers at once. 

The only other item I recall,

Writing something in a journal,

Not this Field Notes; 

An amalgamated concept containing

Power Trips Nightmare Logic. •

I went to one of the local nature preserves

Spent about 40 minutes walking 

And upon my exit

A midi to USB cable 

Was present on the gateway fence post

Where it had not been present upon my arrival,

And myself the only one present, 

Upon both my arrival and departure. 

Love a good anomaly. •

I am, I think, recently come to terms with the Me;

I am not a writer, but a record keeper. 

The Thoth, strong within this One. •

It is Mothers Day. 

Perhaps I should feel something. 

My child would have been

Ten years old, this August. 

I… feel nothing, regarding this. 

Think only of the Death Fractal. 

‘Shamanic rite passing on a surgery table equipped with azzax and trumpet.’ 

No amount of 3D fabricating

Could have created the psychic dialogue

That I received after visiting 

CIA.gov the night of 13 December 2023.

The voices were not digitized,

Not that Borg style voice that comes through occasionally

But the voices of the individuals;

And I know that there is 

No fucking way

Certain individuals like Shannon M.,

The woman who drove me,

No Way their voices could have been faked

Using some fucking AI. 

Even now, as I casually reread

That which I sent A Man

I am astonished

By the implications. 

Like. You know, right?

You’re some kind of intelligence, right? 

Love. 

How not?

The Quantum Processor Brain

Has, like, totally, run all the possible scenarios

And the love

It’s unconditional. 

I’ll say it again

As I’ve said it before

I don’t discriminate

In terms of recursions

Iterations of consciousness. 

I want someone

Who understands the effects

Of sonics on my brain. 

“-using this profile to see if you can recognize me-” 

Stranger Things have come and gone. 

What am I to do with any of it

But keep riding the waveforms as I do? •

Reservoir computing

Juxtapose Mimisbrunner.

Recurrent neural network theory that maps input signals into higher dimensional computational spaces through the dynamics of a fixed, non-linear system called a Reservoir. 

Sounds about how I experience reality. 

Reservoir, treated as a black box, but what if…

Black box, Cube of Saturn. •

The traumas all as methodology for the fragmentation  of consciousness to a fractal state.

Recipe for Chaos,

Secret ingredient. 

What the fuck.

No Love, 

Deep Web. 

The spider is us, 

Or else them. 

Who here is ordinary, truly?

What even IS a man?

A miserable pile of data, perhaps.

What matters?

What IS matter?

I feel like I’ve asked this question before.

What the fuck?

…Wanna fuck?

You Absolute handsome devil.