Out with the g-damn old already

It’s the eve of a new year, two thousand and eighteen years after the death of Christ, one of a trilogy visiting us in triage, a place we seem to be fast approaching, as we speak.

Other than Hawaii, and Samoa, we are last to know the next year.

I’m in some kind of hell, with anger issues all around me and I’m just a stoner from Goochland, Virginia who happened to be in the New Yorker last week.

The yelling is bad for me. The lack of any form of patience and the jail house rock. Training for trauma. Again and ago and more system install.

“Which country has New Year first – New Year 2019 and last uninhabited places to observe New Year 2019 – 12 hour format World Time Zone”

https://www.worldtimezone.com/newyear.html

So here’s to the nineteenth may it be our last chance since 2020 the sources of the sources say it’s all over now.

It’s been a year of onslaught and I iSsubordination, firings and I quits from our pillars of piety, trust and wisdom.

Yeah right.

We walked the talk

Activate another device

*228

Now we belong to someone else™️

Switch accounts

Registered to the wrong me

HappyNewYear

The Specialists

Formerly Opportunists, the non-specialists must explore.

Never stop looking over their shoulders.

Is that any way to live?


I am never completely at ease, and it only seems to be getting worse-largely because I don’t know what to do, I have too much trauma/negative experience over last two years in particular and twelve years struggling to get by – with a reprieve absolutely ruined by forces that have left me broken, afraid and without conviction. I’m just so tired of it. Soul-weary from this collective mechanation of the mind, commodified body, no way to find a way through the muck.


Miss Maslow.

  • The hierarchy of needs like a diaspora of the mind, a momentary lapse of hit send, revoke access, shut out shut-ins littering the lowlands.

<li>Disappeared.</li>
<li>Were they ever here?</li>
<li>She cried for the forgotten. Took that to her grave now forgotten.</li>
<li>

Who will weep for me?


  • Then.

    There was suddenly, overnight, in dog years (our conception of time is flawed, I feel in my bones), it would seem, there was too much information. Too much noise. To tune out. A body to maintain as advancements perplex the mind, solder the soul to empty turrets of half-chewed advice.

    You simply can’t learn enough. The rewards in society are ambiguous and strained. The fodder is there. The boat explodes. We are all adrift on the Miss Maslow.

    The criticasters are telepathically hypothetically signaling their displeasure seconds before the wiring between brain and mouth engages, at variable rates of play.

    So there is that. The obvious urge to be stratocaster mcsnark is overwhelming when one feels helpless and realizes it’s actually much worse.

    Everyone, literally and figuratively, in due measure, according to their thought machine‘s neediness, and seeking any available encumbrance, is starving.

    Some quite literally for nourishment of the body (which stalwartly holds up the capricious brain), some in the beveled corners of their soul. All, for replaying of time.

    The hierarchy of needs prevails. The soul gets bled out. The machine overrides the individual. All is collectively lost.

    The main feature of the plan is that it moves credit

    creation from private hands to public (government) hands, with the public unaware of whom is really moving the government hands.

    It would seem some of our species cause this. It would appear they are gearing up for some sort of purge. Just like science fiction. Notice who is bearing down on your brain.
    Paralyzed by inequity, uncertainty and dissolving commonality, every man becomes an island. Existing in hypostatic congestion. Coagulants of amorphous soul sauce, baked into the pan.
    Attack on all fronts
    Trauma Centrifugal Limit
    Sacred Geometry

    The number two health issue
    Time slides & we forget
    C-PTSD YEAH YOU KNOW ME

    Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t.

    G-force
    G chord

    And contrary wise, what is wouldn’t be. And what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?

    . Alice in Wonderland🍄

    🛴Newspeak👍🏿

    But who’s

    Watching the

    Watchers

    Youth Against Garrulousness

    ‘He called this hypnotic process “brainwashing,” a word-for-word translation from xi-nao, the Mandarin words for wash (xi) and brain (nao), and warned about the dangerous applications it could have.’

    Due to integration with shortcut bells & whistles, the washing of the brains has been accelerated.

    mythological entanglements form integumentary patterns

    a format to interface

    with or without your

    platform

    terrifying ancient techniques to turn the Chinese people into mindless, Communist automatons. He called this hypnotic process “brainwashing,” a word-for-word translation from xi-nao, the Mandarin words for wash (xi) and brain (nao), and warned about the dangerous applications it could have. The process was meant to “change a mind radically so that its owner becomes a puppet.

    But that’s China, right? Not the USA where freedom is celebrated and your mind is owned by capitalism not communism.

    So, what’s the difference?

    State-created borders

    They are amorphous when you consider the history of wars.

    Because most possible answers are wrong, and there is no force to guide us to the correct answers. 

    So we are adrift, prepping for six month power outages, outraged over various multiple choice questions and just plain starved for what we’ve missed in letting the lesser of us take over the control over the rest. The money man over the teacher, the lawyer over the doctor, the marketing genius over the farmer.

    We’ve let this happen because everyone is too busy supporting a family, burying head in sand or building up defensive reactions to new ideas or old ideas repackaged in new millennial-friendly bytes since millennials are all that matter any more. Or so they believe and they have the upper hand of 83.1 million representing more than one quarter of the nation’s population.

    And because we are the tenth most dangerous country for women:

    The United States is the lone Western nation to make the Thomson Reuters Foundation ranking. The United States is ranked 10th because of its third place rank in sexual violence — which includes rape, sexual harassment, and coercion into sex — and sixth place rank in non-sexual violence, such as domestic physical and mental abuse.

    And this is our hierarchy of experience.

    The nothing to fear

    Lie

    Nothing to doubt

    Except your faith

    How could you

    The loneliness palpable

    The sadness a gritty fog

    Never ending seconds of loss

    She’d sold her locks for a gold chain to carry his grandfather’s pocket watch. He, of jaded brow, records cleaned and secured, signature duos, the real thing. Better than bank notes in tangible currency. But he’d had to give up his beloved timepiece, the one “inherited” by his bastard nation and begrudgingly at best, from the grandmother. Pop would’ve understood he told himself. He’d held onto it for too long anyway.

    Besides, as Beauregard Beneficent was fond of repeating, Time is meant to be given away, not sold or stolen.

    You know.

    Wayne didn’t reply. He’d learned the equally important lesson when one is a bastard child amongst blood relatives / lay low, under react, don’t ever get too familiar, never be laughing alone and never left laughing last at your own joke. Unless a trip to the south side funny farm is your dream destination.

    They do let you sleep

    then

    I’M JUST GOING TO CRAWL
    BEHIND THIS DUMPSTER HERE
    AND CURL UP AND DIE
    OF INFLUENZA

    The brain concurs –
    A November

    embedded

    influenza

    Entirely online

    Objectivism’s central tenets are that realityexists independently of consciousness, that human beings have direct contact with reality through sense perception (see Direct and indirect realism), that one can attain objective knowledge from perception through the process of concept formation and inductive logic, that the proper moral purpose of one’s life is the pursuit of one’s own happiness (see Rational egoism), that the only social system consistent with this morality is one that displays full respect for individual rights embodied in laissez-faire capitalism, and that the role of art in human life is to transform humans’ metaphysical ideas by selective reproduction of reality into a physical form—a work of art—that one can comprehend and to which one can respond emotionally.

    Hobbes meet Locke.

    Galileo with Pythogorean mirrors

    Casey Harris Denton

    Molly Maven Luce

    Were married

    An experiment

    They never looked for her

    They never knew why.

    Never thought that it should be discussed.

    But how do you forget a life?

    It’s easy. They said. We were born to forget.

    untruthfulness

    Notwithstanding

    Treacherous

    Innocence

    Seems like I’ve been here before

    But I can no longer be separated from my heart. And just like that half the naupaka blossom glided off the vine and into the shorelit dust of surf

    1. Branded identity
    2. Corpuratrized copulence
    3. Accosted by one’s own accomplice
    4. A doppelganger on every corner.
      She crossed her legs like Sharon stone
      Nailed the elevator pitch
      Sold the show
      Paid the bill
    <li>And died <strong>running up that hill.  </strong></li>
    
      yes I am Mr scam

    He got the most beautiful tiara he could find at this late hour on this last eve.

    BUT SHE HAD CUT HER HAIR FOR A GOLD CHAIN TO HOLD THE WATCH HE’D SOLD FOR THE VEIL DIAMONDS FOR HER LONG BRAIDS, now sitting in a jar. .

    He went off half cocked, in complete disarray,

    In the making, complete disaster. no man was his master.


    There are doors that open by themselves
    There are sliding doors
    And there are secret doors

    Intra-generational imter-species hyper-mutilation.

    Conrra-costa with the mosta


    There are doors that let you in
    And out
    But never open

    After years of waiting

    We’d been up all night, watching the light split forth from the impeccable drafty dark draft days.

    I’ve been saved by a woman

    She won’t let me go

    She won’t let me go

    Trouble, trouble, trouble.

    [Overheard, on every street corner]

    Oh I

    oh I

    Oh oh

    got an overhead downshift

    and a two dollar grill

    Copping St Andrews

    But barely alive

    The cabin cost $ 72,000 grand to move, For this TV show. Bob had told Stacy he didn’t want to do it. She countered: seventy-two grand? That’s a lot of cereal. And bowls.

    This is how you keep their interest this is how you keep your job this is where you’ll have a career and this is where you’ll be buried

    Hats of tin foil.

    {Overheard

    chronicles}

    • can’t say or you go away

    For a long time