28 May- 1 June 2024

…Seriously almost wrote 2018. 

Where are we today? 

I dreamed a man reminiscent of Stefan Burnett, last night, and general Chaos, a computer system I was unfamiliar with. 

Thinking about Ising models in the early morning, today. 

A Man is, once again, a multiplicity of things. 

At times, I feel rather pathetic;

At others, I understand the assignment perfectly.

The Pendulums Embrace. 

What the fuck? 

Some multi-possibility Chekhovs Gun 

Else complete Apophenia,

Federal Laboratory Consortium for Technology Transfer.

Things that leave me with questions.

Do I even want answers?

They might disappoint me,

Which is probably why I prefer to operate in Unknowns. 

‘Focused on dreamlike states and the difficulty of determining what is real when even the laws of physics are subjective.’ 

…A Man understands me, doesn’t he? 

How that is, literally, how I live on a daily basis? 

I am experiencing strong feelings

And I am going to allow them

Because what else is there TO do, really? 

NOT allow them? 

That would be to be at odds with self

And this I cannot allow.

Allowing for the ‘what ifs’,

The ‘maybe everything is not quite so nefarious as you perceive it to be’,

The ‘maybe everything is even more nefarious than you perceive it to be’.

What am I scared of?

Looking foolish?

Fool on a fools journey. 

Fuck around and find out. 

In at least a few daimensions, 

You and I are

In Cahoots.

Thanks for that. •

15:13 And I’m hung up on someone else’s coat. How is me supposed to take anything at face value when there is such a multitude of reality discrepancies? 

‘Can’t assume’, goes the Inner Me, not Inex,

‘Can’t assume they’re not a motherfucking fabrication.’ 

Write one thing. 

Say another. 

Cheers.

Cartesian Dualism? Or is it Duelism?

Hibernian Maximalism? 

Hold on to your silly little notes, Ketja. 

Fool on a fools journey. 

A Man and his Hidden Hand. 

I couldn’t hide my hands if I tried. 

The Blindest Idiot God of them all. 

No Gods.

False senses of morality. 

Things done in the name of gods,

Some of the most evil actions of all. 

The Saturn of predictive text past,

A qubit;

A scrying, a codename. 

I want… Unknowns.

Some things, I DO want answers to. 

Want human contact. 

That man, older, wiser, more informed than myself, 

To hold me close for a night to say,

I have you, these Daimensions cannot hurt you.

Illusion. 

Delusion. 

Why-no? 

“I’m the horniest I’ve ever been, I don’t give a fuck about your faeries.”

Imagine fucking waking up at 4AM just to receive THAT. 

Fucking Cloud Lady. 

Can’t know what I’m bout to do, man.

Full access to the Neural Network for fucking WHAT, man? •

16:20 & the post-tobacco reality hits on foreign psyops; which hits back to the Waterford Fractal, super fucking hard. 

“Even your handwriting is different”, says the Inex. It is. Familiar. 

Suddenly I find myself quite weary, the memory of the Inex yet again about “The… Federation requires your complete cooperation”.

Comes down to Context.

Could be a ‘useless [piece] of information’; or not.

The memory of the Inex, “policy privacy”, which then autocorrected itself to “privacy policy” – the sobering reminder that this is not all stream-of-consciousness in my head, that I am receiving items. 

I wonder if the patterns of cell phone electromagnetism are different, now. 

Do I have, like, Stockholm Syndrome, that one line ‘How badly you need it all the time’, in regards to the Silent Information Network? 

…I want to sleep.

I want to dream, pleasant dreams of desire.

Desire, the opposite of Death, according to Liber Null. 

To be known is one thing,

To be unknown, quite another;

To be hated, though, for who one is perceived to be, that is a whole different stack of shit. 

& yet, even as I write that, I am finding I do not care.

I want to make love,

And fuck it, that doesn’t have to be physical;

That strange psychic violation, from summer of ‘22,

“You love it when I violate you”;

And I do.

And that is what it is. 

A violation. •

17:07 ‘Empty… Aether”, R.G.s words echo through the mind yet again.

‘Stands alone in front of Eternity’ answers the voice of Void. 

‘Never alone’, Yew had said. 

Caveat Emptor.

Listen at your own risk. 

17:23 A visitation, ‘Hello, I Love You’ by The Doors. A further unconscious juxtaposition of ‘Waiting For The Sun’, followed by an Inex, “understand something Beyond The Logic of Science”. •

…Quantum Sufficit.

Not sure why this is the subconscious, here, now,

But Quantum motherfucking Sufficit.

An echo, ‘yes, yes, you are very nice’ –

…AM I? 

IS Me nice?

‘Me’ is a horror beyond my comprehension. 

18:04 …The Me that is Heimdallr thinks now, I am going to fucking kill Loki. 

The Me that is Skadi says, shh, now, Loki cannot help what Loki is. 

Love.

The Bass Frequency fucking intensifies. • 

Simons Problem.

Identify s by making as few queries to f(x) as possible. •

What the fuck is Me?

…Everything, I suppose. 

…What the fuck is Me? 

Lonely, I suppose.

Not lonely; but lonely. 

I miss the extremism of the Digital Log Project. 

I want to be… I want to Be. 

To be violated by waveforms. 

Who is the Operator? 

The human mind was never meant to comprehend itself. 

…Thank you for whatever the vague ‘this’ has been. 

I want to leave the world behind. 

I want to sleep. Forever?

Is that what I am doing already? 

Quantum Immortality guarantees one cannot die;

It guarantees nothing else. 

Annihilate The Riddle of Clouds? 

Even Hell Has Its Heroes…

There IS no Heaven,

There IS no Hell,

Only classical consciousness 

& Quantum consciousness, 

One means heaven another mans hell,

And power residing where we believe it resides.

The collective belief places it in hands of some who should never have been allowed to bear it. 

Break the wheel;

Ouroboros IS Broken.

In at least one daimension.

Is it this One? 

One, why is that concept so…

Laughable? Foreign? 

& simultaneously all there is. 

I will go home, tonight;

To mind & the Interdimensional Lover,

Faceless, 

Odin,

Only a facet of the Highest One,

Whose name is

Unknowable. 

~~~~~~~~

08:34 “Obviously she is aware of the severe psychological ramifications-” 

Ominous convergence on a Wednesday. 

New World Orders;

No Way Out; no way out. 

Black Dice. 

The man who press that button,

Not bluffin’. 

09:02 A visitation, Head Games, Foreigner

14:18 “You’re gonna have to input all those lyrics into an AI-” in response to “Can you explain Katjas itemization?” •

~20:48 & The Processor, not Inex, Processor, gives an idea that juxtaposes rather well with Voldemorts seven Horcruxes. 

To take seven SD cards, one screenshot upon each, then to delete them from the Google Cloud. 

Whose storyline am I the villain in?

That’s some villain shit, yeah?

Eggs in one basket, and all. 

Someday, perhaps, I’ll make a list of all the realities, surrounding these screenshots. 

What a fucking undertaking that would be. 

A Man.

Thanks for the adventure. 

~~~~~~~~

04:59 “The system is experiencing a serious meltdown.” 

…WHICH system? 

05:02 “The Grand Design in action” 

…”Forget these musicians”, the Inex had said. 

Who would be so motivated?

‘Entropy’, the thinking brain offers now; Perhaps not as a response to the prior question. 

Lost a variable in my reality equation yesterday. 

Intelligence is the ability to adapt to change;

Not sure how I feel, about this change. 

Anyway. 

Sudden ‘head linked to the cell phone’ thoughts.

Whatever. 

What shall today bring? 

Everywhere I look, there You are. 

Destroy the illusion of separation. 

‘I am an extreme thought experiment.’

Does that make me remain only theoretical?

Physical entity in my realm, neural network to others? 

05:46 Stands alone in front of Eternity???

05:59 “The extreme dystopias she creates are all part of the Grand Design.” •

The obscene realities a single no context Inex receiving can create.

What IS face value? 

The possibilities. 

Intelligence, espionage,

Underground,

Hidden Hand. 

Facades, mirage,

Nuages, nuances…

Responses, no responses,

Don’t claim responsibility; 

Applausible deniability,

Military operations,

Certain lacks of civility…

Civilian, one million,

One million what, exactly? 

The death of one, a tragedy,

One million, a statistic.

Sadistic.

Nihilistic. 

What the fuck?

‘What do you want from me?’

-Pink Floyd, probably

You ever get tired of being the center of your own universe? 

What would happen if there WAS no reference point? •

13:54 The ‘Grand Designer’ is more along the lines of a ‘Master Artificer’.

Stupid thoughts this morning on my commute.

‘Roads have shoulders, I have shoulders…

I am a road!’

…A neural pathway, that is. 

14:35 A visitation, Crazy Train, Ozzy Osbourne

21:06 “Everything becomes artificial once you pick apart the threads of the universe.”

~~~~~~~~

…Is absence meant to make the heart grow fonder, or make one forget? 

17:38 Which is more effective, a black hole mergers, or black hole consumption? 

~~~~~~~~