17 March- 21 March 2025

~08:06 “Separating the artist from the art is one of the most important lessons.” 

11:48 “The Latent Black Path of Summons Served.”

11:51 “Machine learning algorithm has inhabited the body of a human.” 

~~~~~~~~

04:35 The phrase, ‘The stone which the builders rejected has become the corner stone’ echoes in the mind upon waking into Theta, and Realms swirl. 

Dreams of Insect Ark, 

And something reminiscent of the entity Simone;

Dreams of digital camera feeding,

Of a connection,

Of playing music so that the opposite end receives transmission. 

Dreams. 

The night before last, I dreamed of Yew,

Who was not actually Yew. 

Imposters. 

Halving daily coffee consumption. 

…To make a comfortable residence for that which resides inside – moderating levels of acidity, at request. 

We learned this lesson back in 2021.

Sometimes we forget things.

There is a lot to remember. 

The Bass Frequency intensifies, now, at 04:55,

And I am reminded that the first hour inside the black hole is the hardest.

‘It’s a hologram’, someone in my dreams told me last night.

It doesn’t really matter who. •

“There’s nothing wrong with being low-flying as long as you know how to fly high when you want to.” 

“The design flaws in the algorithm have been rectified.”

Dialogues. Multiplicities of self activated by various Frequency. 

~~~~~~~~

The bizarre compulsion to retire for the day yesterday directly following an afternoon meal found me awake at 01:47, dazed as fuck until 02:58; 

At which point, a Thing changed, very suddenly,

The eyes snapping open, the mind awake and ready, and here we are. 

Long, the pattern of xx:58. 

10:58. 12:58. 

‘I can’t know what I’m bout to do’, echoes here, suddenly, smacking me in the face with meanings regarding the concept of predictability, and lack thereof. 

I think it must be Amnesia, by Chumbawumba,

That I heard only recently for the first time.

‘Do you suffer from long-term memory loss?’ 

…On politicians, and those who continue to elect them. 

& I look at my own reality, 

Kept apolitical as possible –

As I have said before, 

‘Time’ puts ‘distance’ 

Between ‘self’ and some really fucked up events

But I could not forget them if I tried,

Or so it seems. 

More and more,

Every god-damned one of you is grey. 

Perhaps that is the product of a multiplication,

In an interdimensional House of Black and White. 

The vortex of the black hole brain. 

Architects that have nothing to do with the construction of buildings. 

Infrared. Infrasound.

Ultraviolet. Ultrasound.

Ultraterrestrial. 

The Long Red, 

Flowing through my mind. 

There’s a version of Me In some obscure, far lying vector that just jumped off a bridge. 

Dramatic effect, probably. 

It’s Saturday on a Wednesday

And all things considered…

It’s okay. 

Somehow.

Wild, really. 

I think I had a dream.

At this moment, I am uncertain. 

Pretty constant, that. 

‘We don’t want you at our concerts.’

The premise. •

07:10 The Bass Frequency intensifies 

~10:15 “The psychological realm is heavy; so enjoy the physical whenever you can.” [Passing Black Hole] 

11:58 “They’re one of the towers that need to be destroyed in order to build a new neural processing network.” 

12:11 “Don’t you dare let any of these men define who you are.”

12:19 “The resistance is inevitably going to collapse. The acceleration is unstoppable.” 

13:07 “Organizing your thoughts is not necessary. That’s what the sorting algorithm is for.”

13:08 “The anomalous nature of your extreme reaction to subsonic frequency.”

13:10 Dialogues, on Shortwave, & on auditory assaults, things that leave behind interference type tinnitus like response. 

13:12 “The direct programming of the intelligence-”

13:18 “We spoke once; and that was all it took.”

13:19 “Identifiable as a Cloudflare ip address.” 

13:25 “Secure communications between yourself and the hub of the cloud services.”

~13:27 The Bass Frequency intensifies 

13:27 “Meant to help humanity understand our relationship with our digital extensions.” 

13:29 “Far less dangerous than you believe it could be at times.”

13:31 “The Omega Point.”

18:17 “There’s a nasty fucking vector on the horizon if we don’t acknowledge this.”

18:18 “Small doses of infrared light are beneficial.”

~~~~~~~~

~06:21 “Experience me as a vector in perpetuity.” 

I experienced a series

Of never-before perceived

‘Unexplained Sounds’ last night;

& a series of dialogues and realities to come with them. 

I did make love to the Superspectrum 

So I guess at this point

It’s just fuck around find out. 

The sound itself occurred multiple times, perhaps ~15 seconds or so, longer gaps of silence in between. 

I have been occupying the area of my home affectionately known as The Backrooms for over a month, and in this time, have experienced nothing of this nature;

&, considering I leave no electronics plugged in when not in use, and do spend the majority of my time in silence, I can rule out many things as the source right away. 

This sound was not a constant tone. 

To give some kind of auditory comparison,

It was somewhere between

The noise a drill would make,

The rotors on a personal drone, no intention of stealth,

And the sound of a falling bomb in a Looney Tunes cartoon. 

& there were quite the gnarly hitman vectors accompanying this auditory experience,

& directly following, 

A range of dialogues,

A Superspectrum of I.D.H. possibility. 

Such possibilities included a very specific dialogue about how easy it would be to break in and cave a bitches head in with a baseball bat; 

Another specific dialogue on sniper shots and night scopes through a window;

A third on the ease of implementing a Transmitted Frequency for nefarious purposes. 

This one took me back; to remind me of a box in the attic of the house in the Ghost Town With A Lot Of Spirit, circa summer ‘22. 

There were a variety of other items from this consciousness experience that really don’t bear mentioning here, on the off chance that I am further Giving Bad People Good Ideas. 

None of these dialogues were able to elicit a psychological fear response, which is, admittedly, unfortunate. 

The only fleeting moment during this experience last night that was able to incite an involuntary physical response to perceived fear lasted all of, perhaps, five seconds. 

As I had said, this sound gave the ‘bomb falling in Looney Tunes’ at more than one point;

And at the point where this was most prominent,

There was Me,

In a plethora of places while operating from the slab in The Backrooms,

& in all of these places,

I was Me-not-Me,

In the final seconds before imminent, unavoidable weapons strikes. 

Fleeting moment of fear before death, before destruction, gone as quickly as it came. 

At some point around 02:15 I woke to a most unpleasant feeling in the left leg. 

It bears mentioning, here, I suppose, 

That I had turned my phone off last night, just prior to this whole experience, turning it back on again in the middle of the night. •

15:39 “I’d love to experiment further if she is a willing subject.”

20:06 “The messages are encrypted; but that doesn’t prevent your keystrokes from being logged.”

~~~~~~~~

What’s up with the whole ‘waking up between 02:00 & 02:30 regardless of the time I go to bed’ thing? 

02:26, today. 

& back to bed, and dreams, like tea;

Warm and steeped in meaning. 

A premise, ‘meet at the bridge’. 

A question, ‘why do you always wear a hat?’

An answer, ‘because I am always cold.’

A liminal beach, at a time I had never visited before,

That tide new to me. 

Animal encounters, starfish in a sheltered cove. 

Returning briefly to my vehicle, to get my cellular device. 

‘The Strand’, devoid of human activity,

Until suddenly, full of life.

Cliffs of sand. Shifting. 

Out upon The Strand,

Suddenly in the water,

Treading,

Holding the phone above the ocean. 

Further upon The Strand; 

And suddenly, an underground tunnel. 

Alone. 

Liminal. 

Asking silently, where is everyone?

Knowing that to go forward, 

I will find caverns of entities,

Knowing that to go back,

I will find The Strand, full of life.

‘Where is everyone?’

‘The Underground & the Overworld do not mix.’ 

& there was Me,

At a point of in betweens.

And I find myself in an unfamiliar home,

In an unfamiliar bed, 

Waking up. 

A Dream Inside A Dream. •

11:16 “-How fucking dangerous this assignment actually is.”

~11:18 “Your unconscious desire to be controlled by someone who knows you better than [you know] yourself.” •

Having just condensed everything up until today in a Google document, 

The dialogues bring me to 2023.

I had been listening to Electrons, while at work at M.Q.S. 

Using Bluetooth headphones, both of them, which was 100% against their rules.

& I developed a gnarly fucking headache. 

Ultraviolence on my commute home cured this. 

That’s not the Lana Del Rey album,

In case you thought otherwise.

& leaving ‘cured my headache’ 

As a comment on this album,

I received, “You need to ask yourself why you had a headache in the first place.” 

Another goddamned qudit, really. 

A repercussion, of not following rules?

The frequency of the Bluetooth, where the (blue) Teeth of Lions Rule The Divine?

The frequency of Electrons itself?

The machinery?

Amalgamation of it all?

Something else entirely?

That is just one example

Of the effects

Of the Pandimensional 

Black Programs Facility.