My Transylvanian agent, suggests the following: no one needs to read this, but if they do, it's gonna knock their asses back into the cheap seats from the cumulative suppression of horrified gasps. Now, I know what you're thinking, this is just word salad and means nothing.
It also means that the necessity of any eye contact in order to suspend whichever agreement is largely set aside. I'm sitting here, standing up, and my Alpha Draconan symbiant's tail is no longer something that can extrude itself from my anus and flail around like a pussoir that just don't care. Because, I'll be honest... I like being human.
I also like being recognized as the integral member of reality that I am. It's not a mandatory requirement that I actually communicate with her in order to let her know that
Your trans agenda
I don't have one. (Why am I even looking to correct?) I guess it's funny.
must be defeated,
I do not know what is entailed in the defeating of an agenda, although the steadfast refusal to acknowledge uncertainty and remove all doubt has definitely made my conversational agenda, such as it was, quite vanquished. I am thinking you don't know the context, because I initially decided to do this bold, challenging maneuver right before she was "forced" to jump in a cab and leave me a bit perplexed and somewhat indifferent. She was under the impression that I was a sex-fueled obsessive, and that I was going to immediately, you know, finally get my chance. Whether she believed this horseshit or not, in reality, that was never going to happen. I hadn't seen her in person for years, and she was chemically castrated so there wasn't going to be a passionate and warm embrace, or indeed, anything at all, because while I didn't know what was going on, I did know that if I were going to resume relations with that person, it would take a while, I'd have to think it over, I wasn't sure how to reverse the chemical condition quickly or if I even could, and in any event, before I did that... I told her I was going to at last make the attempt to speak to YOU and confirm that she wasn't just pretending to be you after having stabbed you in the liver, kidney, and calf.
Not that I thought that likely at the time but as I hadn't spoken to you since breakfast and I thought that was weird (you may not have realized that I knew I was walking on to a soundstage and I was aware of your fascist inclinations since 2011 at least (thought like most destinies it was obvious from the beginning you were meant to suddenly shatter dreams on the merest whim of a quick pivot-kick-turn), and so when I went in and saw that E.F. Hutton was on the menu as the celebrity echo star chamber maid, or, whatever, I knew what was happening:
get him on tape
get him to admit
disavow culpability
condemn medicinal herbs
include disclaimer and verbal demand for proof of prescription
avoid Clifford The Big Tye-Dyed Dog in conversation
Anytime I am suddenly presented with people I never encountered before, suddenly start paying me attention and smiling like they're tryna sell me floor rugs for my Winneabago, it's always been you behind it. I have no other reason to meet more than one person at a time. Usually that's enough for me. It's not a condemnation. It's nice. It's not mistakable as anything but a setup and prelude to a highwayman's mugging, but I have my Shields and the honest difference these days between what I have and nothing at all is that I prefer the former to just the latter plus my current arrangement, which is absurd and outrageous. Let me explain: it was assumed that I knew certain things, and I did not, and she probably thought she knew, but did not, and then her understanding of how the operating procedures functions was woefully incomplete. I guess I was thought of as some kind of rubber stamp. As though I were interchangeable with any other sad bald fat lying fuck, except I'm not lying but opinions vary, indeed.
That I have not had the opportunity to tell you something very important is no surprise because I am never afforded that opportunity. You just know it wouldn't be worthwhile, or, you're under duress, perhaps case that is built and ready to go would be compromised if you were heard on an open line discussing... uh, anything, or perhaps you have... you know what? it could be goddam anything. What it is not, is legit.
the level of cope here is off the charts. it is not something I demand, it is an actual sense I am getting of total psychic schism. it's not like I'm in penalty time out mode. it's not even an unusual request. I literally don't know if you're dead and kept alive through the magic of a vocoder reading texts, or, you are in a different clone body, or... well, the mind comes up with possibilities.
What it does not come up with is rationale, and neither is that forthcoming, which, in and of itself, is not very unusual. What seems remarkable is the serious attitude.
It's like I pissed in the holy water or something. I guess one in your position does haver to worry about being setup; well, I had no plans to and until I realized you must have cooked that batch of (blank) I kept hearing about that was so good --I of course never got any-- it made no sense that you would be vulnerable to anything in particular, and then I realized you must have a few people in your past who you did them wrong, and since you dumped me and never told me why, and yet are now fearful of me and initailly said it was I who dumped you (not true at all--but I thought if that was your choice it would be reflexive withtout knowing the reasoning) that things are just really haywire in there for some reason somehow.
Okay, number one, all your friends are boorish assholes as not one of them has come to me and cross-checked your story for accuracy. This is important because, as I know with certititude, you don't know the story. You don't. You think you do. You don't at all and I can see how that false notion was kept promulgated.
Can I do this now? I have little else to do. I have the "competency eval" scheduled today but I am -not- going because it is horseshit. The entire arrangement is garbage and everyone knows it and they hope that I am so dimwitted and desperate I'll just go for it. I don't even care to represent myself--it is not as though talking to the prosecutor directly will magickally change anything.
I know a lot more about what is going down than most people realize and, further, I've been at this "exaggerate my lunacy" thing for a bit now. It don't matter people think it dumb. Point is, that's what I am doing right now, and as this is the last time I can do this for awhile, I may as well live it up.
Like I live alone. I don't like alone. However there is no one here to take note when I vape it up in here. It gets like fuckin' London sometimes. It's gross. Here's why:
I came "home" a year ago to find the house had been deliberately planted with mold spore bank structures as a kill room option. It's pretty vile. There is mold, not all over, but in particular places in singular concentration. My kilt, gray/black, in pariticular, looks like a chia pet. All over it. It's hanigng on the post and it's been there for sometime with other garments hanging around it and the kilt, alone, has sprouted soft fur. It's outland-ish.
I cannot be certain but I looked at it and I thought, "it was deliberately seeded at the traphouse in Chimicum." Which was a bullshit time. Every reason I was given for being there at all was a lie. I kinda knew that. At that point it was irrelevant as I was still there to watch/birddog whatever was going on with Shaw due to the belief one had that I had an interest in her well-being, and she needed "help." Yeah, well, that's how these things go. She thought it was out and back kind of thing, no, once she drove off while sneering at me --because I was doing something really terrible, right? well, she thought it was meth and she couldn't get that, so--I knew she was never going to be the same and it would be a nightmare that wiould become her and I being split apart by overwhelming arrays of forces. It's in the design spec. No way to stand against it. Eventually the human breaks and the psyop strike team on overwatch can have effectively limitless resources and any bond can be broken easy.
A lever and a place to stand. And by that point I was mightily sick of being lied to and the schisms that had been left to fester were getting more severe. She had been living a wild life and not tellling me anything and then expecting me to wave my magic fingers and make it all better. Sure. That does not work for long.
She did not realize she was done for in March 2020 or so. After the first series of the protocol were over she was immediately on it like gangbusters. Okay, well, that wasn't the deal. Also, she mysteriously had a logistics source able to come on down and get hot about it already. And he was -not- appreciative. Like, I guess he thoguht I was trouble? Uhm. Look, the whole thing was bullshit and she wouldn't tell me the truth.
So I am not surprised she let herself slip away. One cannot save such a person and I was not there to save her. She needed help with her children and she didn't really care about helping me with my experiences, as she was bound to some Fed thug she didn't talk about and had "obligations." Mystifying to me. I simply don't break the law, which works great for me and the few Feds I talk to. In her case, she was unaware of any mindset other than the criminal one.
As a member of a conquered people, I think it was hard for her to stand up for herself. Looking back I am horrified by how obvious he warning signs were, and then when she was ordered to commit the crime of entrapment against me (there could be no other reason to explain why she did it at all, it is not as though I was not wondering what happened to whatever she said before, like in three years, no one anywhere is having any fun? Oh, well, that explains it, she's blacklisted in some way, hasn't told me, doesn't want to talk about it, oh, and that's so normal.
It never occurred to me that she wouldn't just tell me about something significant, like, say, "HEY I AM MARRIED TO SOME BAD FAT SAD LYING FUCK NAMED MIKE, GET THE PICTURE?" because i sure did. I have heard of such things before. I don't know why they work. However it is nothing unusual.
What was strange is what she imagined I was going to do about it. Allowing myself to be incriminated.... doing something I'm allowed to do, well, okay? I guess turning people in was all she knew. (It was a real shame she stopped talking to me when she decided to take drugs and take drugs and have sex with other men, since that had been a real draw, but they were not real sharing dudes. They did not like me. I could see why. I outranked them and didn't care about their shit. Also it was made difficult to relate since I wasn't told the truth.
All this had only one destination: parting is such sweet sorrow, by-bye, oh she's just vanished and some snobbing boor tells me that I will never see her again, move on--like he's in charge? okay Grande Maestro--and this is done because I generally prefer to actualy end my relationships, and not leave my soul hanging on a loose end. Like why a prohibition against saying goodbye? Easy, they don't want the clone to know that she's a clone and that I and "the real" dame have "moved on," that way, shenanigans can continue.
I am honestly disgusted this has been allowed to continue like this but it's that kind of town. It's my fault, really. I still need to talk to you, I said that if turned out that she was actually going to leave town and get on a new steeplechase --what, no blood test? huh-- I would certainly be broadening my horizons, and before looking up my old friend that had not proven to be working it out in bed with me for well over 12 years--she's shy I guess she only likes to put out for Lodge brothers with scopolomine or something, anyway, certainly not me, and I had resolved that a long time ago.
And I didn't think she was ever into me that way at all. I still don'lt think that. But aside from all that I was planning to verify initial asumptions when it seemed approrpriate. When she acted like Dallas "for work" was a viable option, I instantly thought of you.
"Hi, is this real world or exercise?" It's not like I thought you wanted to talk to me, it was that I had queestions that needed answers and anyone and everyone pretended you didn't exist. Hang on--I'm gonna I.V. some drugs now. (Obligatory.) I'm kinda sick of this charade, you know. Long before now there was to have been oversight.
Look at it this way: I am heartily sick of it indeed, as I am not a milspec.full.on MK-U activated combat unit, nor am I an Activated Sourceror, and so there's no reason to trigger Infinite Mode, and while it is very satisfying indeed to know that it is best karma/dharma for flaking me off for 3 years... I'm even tired of tasting their angst. I don't -wish- to be withholding. But now that I can and am, they respect my power in the way only a puny tribalist can. I don't groove on it. But they will respect on its groove. Seriously, they thought there had to be some reason... they just didn't -ask-. Durrrr. Kinda cute in an altar-boyish way. It's really not a big deal now, and without 4 elder brothers telling her to lie to me and giving her poison to dress me down with, I would be hard pressed to imagine anything we would ever disagree on. It was entirely artificial and it hit the apex after moving in.
You know, the sixth anniversary of Patsy's death and the percolator timequake and the inriguing discovery that... oh! Huh. Okay then. Shrug. I think Grapefruit may have been hurt that I didn't appear to notice. In fact I grayed out in my vision and came to a vision of Death incarnate.
I didn't select him. He selected me as I terrify him more than all the victims he has caused suffering to, all rolled up in one. He says it is because I have not borrowed any of my power, I have made my Own Power. Yeah, that's true. Anyone can do it, honestly.
Not everyone can teach it.
I mean, you are transitioning to be a woman, right? 
Giving birth to a child one loves, I should think, would qualify one as a "Mother" whether emerging from twat or anus. I do not plan to become a woman, and in fact, never transition at all, as I am holding out for instant whole-body transmutation, which is sci-fi stuff, but that's fine, I'm content with my body and style now. Mostly because my penis is so small and doesn't work, it will remind you of you (blank) and then all tension is dissolved.
For me. You are probably tense because... well, there is no problem. It was resolved and your ring of lickspittle supplicants refused to tell you. It was their right. They were correct, it wasn't your problem anyway. You didn't even know that I couldn't interpret your pheromones. You simply knew that you didn't turn me on, and... yeah, it was dumb. Oh and also there were 5 of you, 2 in upper astral, you were 2025 Jump or whatever--da-fuq they call it, right? You had a head start and sure you were a year older. You were also 4 years younger, and so on, and I met most of them as well in time, and, simply put, not all humans manifest their experiences the same way, and it doesn't have to make sense to anyone. T. Novak, really. NOVA-k. Right. Yep, it's right there. Well, you could go beat her up but I don't recommend it, as everyone carries vials of control chems at hand, since... well, I did tell everyone how it works. I might even have been correct. /shrug
The real plus is two months from now when measurements are taken. Will anyone even remember? I have no idea. I don't even know if you're reading this. Nor am I clear on why you called me here to this moment anyway, because i hadn't forgotten about you, I just figured you were okay without me.
Everyone hates me because they think I am supposed to go punch Biff or something. Oh sure. Another special charge, great. Everyone so interested, no one bothers to chat me up. There is a lot that is unknown. For example, when I came to town, women presented themselves to help "rescue" me from SHAWKLAN. I had to make up some lame excuse, because they were dangerous. They felt slighted, you know how women used to be. These two were like that. Because they were in Heaven, and they came down to see me and let me know I didn't have to stick around. Well, I wasn't done yet.
She needed help and no one could cover the duty... not sure until when, anyway. It's academic now. This is all happening on a level of reality that I really find quite puzzling. I'm here at a time when your body is dead and your mind is contemporaneous as if we were together we wouldn't talk. You're not even talking now. Ho-hum.
(Note to you turkeys: it's not like telepathy, more like chattery teeth on a telephone line and my imagination fills in the rest and it is... an imaginary conversation, and somewhere beyond the limits of innerspace, I guess it's "real." It can vary depending on local tension levels or how intense my memories of dismay were the one time I bought her shoes and... she didn't like them. Oh. I guess I'll just gargle hemlock then. And it was all about... hey wait a minute. As it was about at that time I realized I was getting mega-played.
Not maliciously but I saw the pattern developing involving half-a-dozen "friends" I had never seen together, who of course knew each other in Universal Mind. Planning a surprise party. Oh boy. Here's the surprise: decapitation axe activated by doorbell. They liked it so much on Art, hells yeah they wanna do it to me. At the extreme ends of consciousness, MK-Ultra can get rowdy. I can recall now a number of reasons why the disarming caused the Tasmanian Sheet Pan Devil to achieve her final forum. They're kinda personal. She's not here in the flesh. I don't want to talk shit behind her back. She's busy doing that to me now, of course, but I am better than that.
I don't really want to. She hasn't, not really, so it's a comforting warm glow of potential. I guess she likes that, or something, I really don't know, my mind schismed when certain things happened, and I just resolved to concern myself later. I'm still not concerned. I didn't even think of anything much to say? I did think it odd that I couldn't and no one would respond to my queries. People thought I was an asshole as she had told everyone she had gotten herpes AND hispees from me. Technically true. In the future. I don't really know the details of this person's timeline, nor why it was so important that she have a child by me without me knowing, and then, and then, et cetera, but I cannot conceive of any of this nonsense having actual reality anymore anyway.
I never doubted she'd look forward to hearing from me because she really didn't know why I answered with "create huge ethical and moral quandries for all concerned" on what appeared to be a whim. It was a trap, that I chose to spring thusly: you could have come home pregnant and I would been instantly down. Meanwhile I didn't believe you were into it anyway, as you weren't, I was a stepping stone and it wasn't bad... it was simply contemptible what was done and it was assumed I did it to indicated hatred of you, but in fact, it was of your friends. They set it all up with or without your tacit approval. What a great test. Oh it was totally reasonable. Literally never kissed anyone before and they drop me next to a 29yo operative with a 3 mo old.
Straight-up child abuse and i will never, ever complain because I did like her a lot. I felt bad for tossing her number after you tossed me, however--another life, easy, and it was an unfair test all around. Yep, I told her I was sixteen. Yep, it was totes legal for her. Except she didn't check my id and she kinda knew and she didn't behave quite as repsonsibliy as maybe the law required? Once again, I consented to all of it and it was partially my idea--no one suspected I could be that charming--and after a Certain Person really hurt my feelings there was bound to be a catalytic tower moment where I got things back on track. it was awful, what they did, so petty and I'll never describe it, but let's say: they didn't want me to stick around.
They were gonna whore you out on scopo and mdma and hold challenge cup derbys. I guess. You had some tech access back then. Well, that's nice. I really thought you had arranged it with me and you wanted me to not be nervous. Oh, I was wrong? Ooops, sorry, hey wait, my life is ruined. Wow. Cool, there goes all kinds of options, and, how's that work?
(Hey you turkeys: I can't tell you what the plan was it's too sappy. I mean yeah nice but I'm not writing that down.)
No matter what I chose, it would come out on the other end as bad as possible as the opfors wanted us split. I didn't believe we could be together and you really just wanted a time scion--why I had to be ignorant, I'll rarely remember but it's something to do with "blah-blah-blah Leo insecurity." No need to justify. I do get it.
For my own part I made you this coupon: guaranteed one (1) spermatazoa that you can abuse all you like, it's all heart and soul, no brains, well... I did plan for the possibilty, since I wanted to breed you too and then you looked at me like I was a disgusting coonhound. And later, I got worse? Wow. I never developed anything, she may well have had that, but no guarantee of shedding, and I don't know what to tell you. I figured if I had to wear a veil we would stlll always be friends, no matter what.
Then you were groomed with more dope by (Blank) & Co. and I wasn't much fun to be around. Yeah, seemed an unfair advantage to me as well. How about now? I'm not too high am I? Truth is I never -have- to spill text, I simply enjoy it. And I wished to look like a total wastoid. The Reckoning changed me. That threshold dose found on the floor did that too. It really was quite the mood-killer. "hey look, we found this while we were framing you!" I get it now.
I was robbed and you were exploited and, now I'm a Titan. Hard to judge, it is how it went down. It wasn't important for your mission. I guess. I left you two together and never saw you both again for a long time and, yeah, nope, never came up, huh? I'll bet. I think many can see why I've lost all ambition to regain a libido. For one thing, sex addiction can be a ghastly affliction.
For another, so can all of ewe. I didn't know for sure either. I simply knew that it would be a cold day in hell before I ever got her motor going again, and she would have had to apologize or something. That happened much later. I was just going to talk to... well, I don't know her name, and the voicemail was horrid, and the set-up threats, and all of that lead me to being your decoy; it genuinely looked like I was the one with the one problem, but it was a family dynamic, naturally. I dissed W & H and they were family, but I was clueless, as I had never been surrounded by 400 Freemason scum in the middle of barely restraining their murderous fury. (Consensus was that I had lied and convinced you on that basis alone. A charitable group.) I didn't know what their problem was and I did not care, if they could keep a secret, so could I, because I could tell it wasn't just weed going open carry that was gonna axe the economy, the Fukushima was reducing the oyster beds, and there just... wasn't gonna be any reason to go out there so far.
Sure, if one was already picking up a weed drop. But that all went away, and your milkshake only brought this boy to the yard. They were worried about you, as you had gone through a rough patch before I got there, and I didn't care, her spirit was in you. And it came and went. It's nice you enjoyed such pleasant times without my distractions as I had no oxygen stlll and it was frustrating. I knew something was wrong and I didn't know what and of course no one gave me drugs, Jesus, (Blank), are you nuts?
You don't even give me a reason. It's just blank in the air. By the time it comes up I will have forgotten. I might get up suddenly in the middle and find a new trophy wife. Ya never know. I wouldn't do it only to be rude. Maybe. I'm largely calloused over now. I forget why.
Oh yeah you let yourself get programmed over while I was 3.5 miles away with zero word and no one told me anything and that was it, first poke, you never thought of me again. He deleted my name from your email, et cetera, it's not that hard, you dig? Michael Totesgone. Kuczipoof.
Sex addiction. I reported that to (PROT) who followed up on Dallas. it went somewhere obviously. I didn't know what to do and it wouldn't improve with less. Besides it was what the people wanted to see--that was where the money was going to be made.
She wants me to launch the paywall asap. (Lookie her, turkeys: she's not an imaginary friend. She is an image of and a married friend. I don't need to know date, location, boobs, nothing. Married is married and ansible comms would follow either of us no exceptions. We make it up, so we say it can. It's not unheard of. I don't have to describe it perfectly so it works; it works, so I can describe a little bit country and a whole lotta cunt, and, oh really, is that so?) One of them doesn't like the word "fuck" and the other one doesn't like the word "cunt" and neither of them will put out... except with anyone but me, and that does sound like a terrible curse to bear.
I bear a worse curse: The Kuczi Advantage. I don't give a shit what she does no matter what and I know that for a fact as that was the advantage her past self had over me. And what's more, she's all that advantage, all the time, as she doesn't care now, either. It happens later in a necessary configuration for whatever dumb thing happens today for the evaluation of my "competency." I considered asking for legal advice, however, professionals get disturbed when I sound like a drooling idiot, because they know I do not have to be that way, and the subtle irony was not lost on them.
I went out, found myself unable to follow protocol, and came back with nothing--also mysteriously absent, and itty-bitty plant I was given that I didn't ask for and could later not be found--and I literally walked in the door and violently assaulted. If I had done that, I would have gone to jail too. But I knew going in, I was not staying there alone, and I guess someone would have come then. Well, they did. Of course they got along great. They're both sex-addicted drug fiends who were seriously irritated and dismayed with my behavior. It made no sense, they thought. Then they started making out with each other and I was never remembered again.
Papaya was at the motel and she was timid and I, as one might imagine, was bone-tired of these shillelagh-worthy shenanigans. Coke-Cop intercepted me out of jail and she said something distasteful that did nothing for my excitement and on top of that I noted her observing my use of a Gab like it was a danger zone. Like I just about had it right there.
I could imagine the times that were had without me to a fare-thee-well but I shall not as I think it disrespectful to... well, I don't know, but I am sure someone comes along that gets fought over and he probably has clothes that fit. There is no meaning of insulting intent here... fashion and scissorin' 24/7 just ain't my jam, Lacquer-Ready Project.
So what I did do since I had been told to go get? I went out to go get and wondered if I would have to go 400 goddam miles. I wanted to convey the impression that I desperately needed to get high, and I did not, so it came off weird. I think they thought i was looking to send an encoded message to an embedded agent in the field. I also knew that it was partial set-up to create a window of vulnerability that could be the point to intervene to get rid of me.
From what I gather at this telemetry in the pile of spaghetti, when I get removed, my replacement immediately makes her preggers and then you're all off to the races while I hang out at Mt. St. Helen's Motel and just... chill. It doesn't seem so exciting now does it? Slow motion trainwreck unfolding while blissfully unaware. I forget what. It wasn't my timeline. I get booted and they have plenty of fun --and still do-- while I am... you know, chronicling. I do like it! I am of course not jealous. I would never interrupt a command performance.
He finds me alone with no one to care for me and takes that time to have the order quashed, then scoops them up and takes off. People are stunned. Does it matter to me?
Nope. There's only so much I can do while being reviled and hated as a scapegoat with no dissenting voice. I actually don't remember the rest, thankfully. I have an
actual life here, People. There's not enough time in the day to write about your life as well as mine. So, I'll just tune mine out. It seemed to work for many of you.
What didn't work: labelling me a junkie, as I am not. No junk, and no lack of discerning taste. Imagine hopping back and forth from leg to leg, you really got to pee. But you're at the grocery produce, looking for a good tortoise-shell banana sardine. But you gotta go. It's urgent. And you haven't picked out a turtle with a banana yet, Minerva.
Why haven't you picked out a sardine at least? (Whispers.) That's pretty hard core. I can't endorse that, but I feel the same way, yeah. *click* (I might have been fibbing. It's possible I don't feel right now, the chiral timelines are widely out of sync on this skein of information I'm working from, I really don't know how Universal Mind, works, right? Sometimes i think about it when I considered Universal Hug and how I'm only interesting if I improve my quality to her standards so she's sure I'm serious.
(Pause for halp.)
Not a good day for banana shells. In any event, obviously I was not aggressive or angry at all, I was merely as sadly heartbroken as I was when she rubbed things in my face because she needed to get chain of custody evidence. On me. Because coercion. Awkwardly, I would have handed it right over... had I known the truth. She didn't know what she was doing, when it was her, she would just get whatever, and go see people, and... like, this is not just Island Girl. This is Queen Island Girl. She can do whatever she likes! And I guess after this one time at a bus stop, if whatever she likes is engaging in commerce with, say... well, let's not say, anyway, let's just say it would have been unpleasant. Again. And which one is innocuous and which is Penitentiary Friendly is kinda obscure information at times, which is how They like it.
Example: If I live there and my name is on the papers and I'm not living a double secret life, it can be presumed that I'm at least somewhat aware of what's going on. If I'm at the motel and I can't come within 500ft and parties unknown are living it up and hollering about what a toolbox Kuczi is and... you get the idea, yeah, anyway: not so much for My Benefit, really. I don't know much about how this works.
My neighbor does but he imagines that I deserve nothing and he knows how to make $700 at single traffic stop, time for final wash included. But he can't, because... I don't know, I don't wanna tap into his mind, does he? I can hardly see the road from the smirking sneer coming off of it. Like why even mention the birds, yo? Because I happened to pull the ripcord right when they were freshly hatched and still downy? Huh. Divine timing. Yeah, Shane didn't need to be a dick, but I guess he wanted to learn us a thing or two about his dialect.
He did -not- like my drone coming in. He did -not- appreciate my commentary. He defended his turf brilliantly from some dork who grew up fat while boorish proto-thugs like he used to be, sprinkled it on their sandwiches and milk in middle school. Just imagine. They don't even have any excuses already prepared. What? "I have to get to class. It's important. U.S. History." Sure. Also important: crafting a spectrum of chemical flavors from the base foundation crystal, and, hey, you know what?
It used to be just describing that part here? 20 years in the slammer. Just for talking about it at a party. That is the world that once was.
Now, they give you 30 years and take your consciousness out and put it in a Matrix zone, so there's the deterrent effect and an uber-perv can experiment without warping the fabric of society. These concepts are not really all that far out there. I'm not even meaning euphemistically. Most of my girlfriends have been, are, and will be up until the minute they get near me, uber-pervs. Oh, but when I'm around they get uptight now. (It's the Shields.) I could do something about that but it's also the concerns of thrown sticks, and a constant wondering, "is this Titan really holy?" Long, check, strong, check, down to get the friction on, qualified check, not sure if I have a disease, oh, and, am I holy? Am I holy enough? The worry for the struggle is real.
Also real: these documents as well as several others do get copied into Court records, on some schedule, I don't know. It's not for me to concern myself with because I'm literally phoning it in now... am I writing too much or too little, it's impossible to say, and regrettably, judges and all Court officers do end up relying on Ai Constructs to analyze everything I have written, as it has been 3 years. It is a shit load of journaling. (That you all tell me is scrollable, sucks, shut up Jack, et cetera.) Like you care.
I'm getting the impression that it is sincerely admired and appreciated by many, though not universally, and I guess even David is healing, although I feel as though the headline is missed: there's no proof of rape and her accusation is vague at best and that was Groyper and her, and the other Mike was... just, like, sitting there. Like it was his place.
That fella was more important to the operative sent to pick me up outside of jail the first time than I was, because I was okay drinking alcohol, but I was told the other was "shit" and I should stop doing that. I didn't ask why. I merely made my way forward in life and redoubled my efforts to do even more.
She didn't know anything about me, although she knew me, so she didn't know that me going out was a big deal as I hadn't, and no one asked me to. If she was then I was too. I did not know what she was doing and I did not care as I simply couldn't trust anything I heard anymore. My questions unanswered were no longer priorities.
So I essentially abandoned her with another girl and when Court received a petition to quash her SORA (is that it? it was trash anyway) there was no psychokinetic shielding buffer or sudden spider-sense tingling. She called police, she gets police.
What? It's playbook. I practically knew it was gonna unfold on 2nd date when I noticed something about seemingly not listening to me about something I thought was important. Oh yeah, here it was: "I don't know how real this is, so I could use some help to figure that out."
I couldn't really use some body, mind you. (Do you mind? Yeah, I do. What do you want? I'm trying to enjoy my evening with my grandson. Why don't you just enjoy it then? Blah-blah-blah something to do with my fowl mouth. See, right there, there, at the source of the stream, my "fowl" mouth. See, here's what was not well understood: she was no longer my helpmate, she was Mrs. black and decker crafter shipwrecker, she brings down her old friend, she makes it real obvious that's she's having a visit, and then she makes it kinda vague about something else, and then I start to feel it --therapy-- but not really, it's not really coercive, right? I mean, I didn't get a vote, not really, I mean I could have been there and stopped him, right? Pffft. Fat chance. Naw, it was decided because of some rivalry she had with someone else and since she figured out she wasn't going to be able to frame me for anything good, and she wasn't, she didn't have to keep up the pretense that she barely knew this other fella, who seemed nice, but seemed awfully hostile for a person she said she didn't get along all that well with. (I know, right? Black magic woman. It's not as bad as it is coming across. I kinda forgot though about how she thought she was being kind by not telling me that I might as well not know because I was loathed by Colonel Toteslezz and her other besties as well because they all did DMT together (the wrong way) and got ensorcerelled by... what-ever-the-fuck. I have no idea. Not a big deal, right? But they had their group, and I didn't have a group, and I had a brief window where I was invited--demanded to appear at an exact time and place, right? because they were also gonna schedule a S.W.A.T. at my other two houses that I didn't know I had, because I'm really just a farm fresh country bumpkin bumpin' mofo, right? No wonder everyone thought I was a retard, I didn't even now how many houses I had before... yeah, you get the idea. It was like that as they had been abused quite a bit and I DID NOTHING TO HELP.
That they noticed, anyway. No money, no house, no party, no new friends, really... I mean she had a bunch from before. But essentially, I brought nothing new and presented major scheduling conflicts, in that every day I went out there, it was always time for another re-enactment of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Double chainsaws.
What I did do was change how everyone handled her situation for awhile. As for a time, she was quite happy. All up until the part where I got one lie too many, which was about how she kept on giving me poison, was she aware it was poisonous? To her, it might have not been, maybe ecstasy for all I knew. And I didn't.
She was getting plenty of sex and the complexities of being fed a raft of storybook joy of cooking with gasoline and tiger tails led to this: yeah, well, why even bother? A notion has yet to present, and no one thought to wonder what this was going to end up with me as.
Now, obviously, I am supremely confident. None can deny this. And certainly, it can be seen pretty clear: I guess I forgot about her by now too, right? (No.) It's certainly more indifferent than before, and I cared that she was lying before, as well as, how she was lying, and I cared about the information I was asking about. "How are you feeling?" The usual way--blind hope and dead stick reckoning, since at that point she had at least 5 mating bonds going on and I knew of none and strictly speaking, ours was faded... I just didn't really feel like pretending I wasn't supposed to not know, but I did know because... well, ask him now, he'll send you a telpath.mov, I think. He's actually really nice. It was a misunderstanding that we got off on the wrong foot on because she wanted it that way, and that's My Grapefruit, it really is okay, it was just too bad that no one thought to wonder who had a plan to put the brakes on her totally unplanned full-on relapse that got ethanol added on top when I didn't really think that would happen.
Nor that she would keep asking me to go find strangers with candy and engage in commerce with them. Uhm....oh yeah, that would take longer, and that way more time with not me there and hot sex with my ex that I had... you know, not known anything about. lol. That is some pretty hot kink. I legit wasn't even hurt by it either as I had assumed that had to happen at some point as she was coy about it, and since I knew... how I felt, I knew I preferred the notion more than the idea of hearing about how I wasn't good enough or whatever or how I had dick pimples (nope) or herpes nose (nope) some deadly STD heretofore uncategorized (tip of my tongue, no doubt, yawn), seriously what a mood killer.
Thus, The Court is using a woman who I do love, but have all the sexual urgency of a Dr. Seuss novel for and way less than half the consonants. I just personally... find it off-putting that I would find the person alluring after that, like, "oh, I have no idea they are actually right next door and they know all about me and think of me as pocket lint and would sooner butt plug a cotton candy spliff than any part of my, of course, filthy and disease-ridden flesh, because MK-U programming, and gleefully dodged running into me and did whatever she liked for awhile. Not cheating, although not cool either, really... I mean, I actually liked her, not just the sex with her which i never saw, and would I even have wanted to? I honestly don't think so, given that she had learned all about the event from four other men who lied to her and without bothering to check or confirm at all, decided to scar my mind on her birthday, which i deserved, and then harbored a grudge for years. I'd actually just like to talk to someone for awhile? I... look, tell you what, just take me out of this body, put me in a sexless mannequin, you want sex, stop the camera and wheel out Kim Basinger and Kim Cattrall and watch them get it on. I wasn't even obsessed with sex when I was obsessed with you. I wasn't even obsessed. I was focused on how silly it seemed to me that you would have permission on someone looking at you or not. And then, why, does it feel good? Well, I wouldn't know. Wow, I forgot how dorky teens are. Ugh. I really am glad that is over because you were disgusted by me because someone told you a not actually true story with trigger words in it, sounded vile to me too. Yes, they wanted you for themselves, like I guess how you wanted my batter yourself. Without consent. Makes it hotter? Look, not gonna argue. I think you weren't interested in the first place because I didn't know how to do anything and you... had an agenda of which I was one part. I had a plan I made up on the spot to put you at the top of 3 timewave reinsertion points, starting from the first moment you started crying about... what? okay, you suddenly decided I was hot stuff and you... fantasized, did you? Yeah, hang on, I'm downloading the arrest record now. hehe. If I had oxygen, they probably would have gotten me for molesting your mom too. Why not go for the gusto? She probably would have been able to tell me why on some level without dragging it out with a chain fall. I could have bought her a drink. I could have her buy you a drink. Impractical and unnecessary but i do recall. It's okay, I don't need to know where you are with the woman he brutalized when someone (I legit don't know who) shows up later and then you all go... well, away, without me. In a nutshell... he wins, the takes everything and my place and I'm still here. We saw this coming. Does it matter much? Everyone seems content enough. I never met him. You were already married to him. But some how... I am culpable. Am i the butler? Colonel Mustard did too.
Yeah. She's a reef shark. And I have no objection. I did do an awful thing. I fucked up her plan to collect child support payments for several generations because, what's she gonna do, present documents and say, "okay, looks like the father was almost sixteen at... oh, I see what you mean. Was she a sex worker... hrm. What do you mean by that, exactly? "Was she a whore that all four of us paid. Well, I don't remember, I think I got credit for... " yeah, I can't go on. tl:dr; steal my batter, beware kanly blood spatter. Like I couldn't believe she was involved and participated and didn't think that would happen and, what, did she bet her racing motorbike too? I didn't even know she had one.
Yeah, to her, I was literally the school's nerdy pool boy. No idea I was particularly fond of her in that it had never happened before, and same for her, and when she saw me gaping eyed and spinning, she wrinkled up her face an flinched away as if to indicate that I wasn't welcome to admire her, to love her, to adore her, to shower her with ardor, and yeah, you wanna have sex someone else, when you see me again, tell me how it was better than me so I could improve in response, in a glorious upwards-showering dance of ecstatic joy.
Times have changed. Here, take this direct exit away and go and I'm not likely to think about how we never had sex, because, you hated me because I even loved the darkness, which she hated, typical, right? No idea what it was, as she didn't tell me that, she only shared with me her interest in RAPE and never giving explicit verbal consent --of course her room was wired for sound-- and instead trying to use The Force to compel men to assault her so she could later file charges.
Quite the fantasy. No idea if she ever did that, though some have, and I noticed the circumstance, and thought, "wow, she thinks I was born yesterday, look at that smirk. does that mean she thinks I'm afraid? I have no idea, but I like her mother and she's about eight feet away, so, not gonna suddenly start talking and, uhm, duh, totally not erect. Jesus, after this paragraph, will I ever be again? So I am thinking that we're not going to get sexual, so, it's a good thing I let that other woman who has kissed me--which makes two, two women, that one and this one--climb on top of me, because I'll never get action again at this rate, yep, slippery slope down to no explanation given.
Yeah, so, not really envious as one might think. Legit happy for them and why wouldn't I be? I didn't lose out on anything until they started drinking and embezzling from me together. It's cool The Court gave them all that time to get to know each other while they were protecting her from me, they had no idea what I might do if I were to find out! (They might have asked but it was an EMERGENCY so there was not time to waste on pointless questions; after the day after my birthday they were gonna have a trial, they literally gave themselves a six month continuance and did ask a single thing about anything while they did whatever they wanted and brought along someone else's and didn't spare a thought for me until I made three phone calls and threw them all out.
There are three Earths. I don't know how it works. But I didn't just call my mother's estate's trust's lawyer. I did three lightning bolts and threw the phone across the room, rolled over the covers to bury my head where my ass had just woken up at, and went back to sleep. I figured I was probably throwing out the broad i hadn't seen in 8 or 9 years who couldn't be bothered to say a word to me about anything and had a bunch of mail sent to her.. .I thought she was dead? Or busy. I didn't think she would read the mail and laugh at it and me and go back to spooning the full-on relapse doper she had secretly been with since before I met her... although, had that thought come up? Oh hells yeah she would have, and did. Why not?
I was still pissed at her too, and it was too much trouble to figure out why normal wires of emotion were somehow so tangled and crossed. (HERE IS A HINT: GROOMED BY GROOMERS WITH MIND CONTROL DOPE DURING PUBERTY. What? It happens. Of course people gave her speed. Of course no one gave me anything but scorn. And yea I didn't get real meth until 30+ years later? Some tolerance differences, yeah. None of that a problem for me.) I was the only man.. g*y, boy, really, sure, prettiest girl, and a huge pain in the ass to get along with, right? except for me. I like it. She thinks she's all that, and she is, so, who is she trying to convince? Herself, always, that she's strong enough to say no to me if I ever got an erection around here, ever, don't know why I would, right? she sucks all the air out of the room with each breath of her heaving bosom, the decline of her decolletage undulating slightly in candlelight as we read cookbooks or something and chat like friends do, we can't have sex anyway, Jesus, you loser, are you nuts? You've got two different diseases. Forget it. And if you suggest drugs I'll call you a junkie, because, well... uhm, yeah, we've met.
It's not that I thought she didn't want to see me or hated me it was that I thought the other one was each more interesting to them than they would be to me or each other. So, that's why no jealousy. And I knew no one I could risk with Fruits Out! Knives Eiditon on the prowl. I wasn't really worried but I didn't really want sex either so that one was kinda ideal, not likely to even touch or get near each other because brain damage, and that's what I was supposed to be doing 3.4 years ago? no. 2.5? Yeah, well, still haven't.
I'm not lazy. I'm discouraged. Besides I think if I put my dick inside it'll explode and both of them clammed up about the whole notion. must be something. no one else would go get a blood panel with me. It's weird, huh? It's almost like there is some story going around. And blood magick needle STD panel white coat seems a bit unwieldy for a safe word, but just say blood and, at this point, what difference does it make if someone on the job wants to have sex? they can't anyway and have been hypnotized to think (PROT) and I have swapped roles.
Because of course she has a boyfriend named (PROT). Duh. Playbook. And I mean it, it's nice enough just to be able to to write an absurdly long-winded letter like this in public and not feel over embarrassed by it, than before which was an angst-ridden existential torment, really just screaming "why?" through different syllables, why did you do that? oh, because... oh, well. I won't transcribe that.
I don't care why you did it if some dude hypnotized you and erased the connection, is that even possible? I guess. I feel like I might notice a flicker of distaste and unease. This is pretty long, wasn't it? Hopefully someone will come by and be seeking to help me by threatening me to not leave it... even though leaving paper on the counter is pretty indirect.
Well he was more gracious before he was infected my machine elves after doing DMT wrong and then blood orgy--not sure what was wrong about this time, but, I wasn't there, and, I was real sketchy about it. I think he was just gonna arrest me. By then he was kinda... well, he could have thresholder all day, right? Not for me.
(A Luciferian built my talking stick today out of the shattered dreams of men and women who hoped one day to get to meet me, but as of rignt now, on most planet:
IT IS THE LAW. YOU HAVE TO MEET ME. SO, I AGREE, I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN BE FORCED INTO YOU SUCKING MY DICK, SO SURE, I'LL DO IT RIGHT NOW,
AFTER ALL,
I HAVE SO MUCH LEFT TO LIVE FOR.)
