I think it’s quite funy how you,
Bringing laughter to your heart and throat chakras has been the compensatory daydream of my never-sought vindication that, at one point, was all the closure I could have ever had... I thought. Instead, I was preparing for a showdown that I thought would never ever be. (I remember thinking years and years later that I would probably never see her again at all, for although I was I guess over the disappointment of an unexplained death, I didn't see how I was going to be able to be friends with somebody who didn't really want to talk about why we weren't friends. Firstly, I don't really want to talk about it either. Secondly, I can see why y'all thought I was so dumb, coz like I can't fathom having an entirely unacknowledged person here the whole time that must have been quietly seething the whole time, struggling to ignore any acknowledgment of wanting any attention from me anyway, like how did my empathy not work? “I arranged all this just to read your spam—without ever telling you—so as not to risk exposure of myself to any information that might force a dissolution of prejudiced, bigoted and erroneously reached conclusions of yours.” I should have barely been able to make out the avatar of the little green troll past all the heat coming right off the page. It should have brought out the wet in the air, yeah, you know what I mean: the moist. But with bile. Like, I thought it might have been Deacon, Hell for all I know, maybe it is, they probably have a golem they can plug mindgems into. I'm progressively minded. I never really gave much of a concern about who was who on this website because I didn't work in your industry, and I still don't.) I didn't ever really try to find her: with a name like mine, I knew at some point she could if she so chose. It's been four months since I found out she's not dead, and before that it was
years. I was not obsessed with this person, I'm not obsessed now. And I knew there was exactly zero chance that anybody would believe that I really had no idea nor was I even actively looking for her until I suddenly did realize that it may not have been reasonable for me to assume that you would even have been using the same name.
This whole particular channel of the sideshow television network utterly fascinates me, as this is a really unusual circumstance. Properly marketed and exploited, we could have made a whole series of idk what, but certainly something different than... well,
whatever.
Well, instead, this. “I think it's Quite Funy how you...” all conspired together to keep me deliberately ignorant as to the nature of the situation. I suppose “conspire” is not an ideal word, but, I just need to consider Podbean, Thunderdome and Christmas At Ground Zero for the briefest of moments before I realize: yeah this was a fairly sinister dynamic, that had always been there—for them—and then all of a sudden one day I just felt like snapping on a dime and actually initiating a
legitimate contact protocol, perhaps hiring a private detective, but I could not ever know just how Quite Funy it all would have looked, until I suddenly found myself reevaluating virtually the entire content of my mind as it resembled this new information. For example, I was quite shocked to realize that this must have meant that every single time I asked Allison if she had any contact... that she had been lying every time she said no. I think that was four times that I asked over 5 years, once again not really on my mind. “When did they meet” it's not a question I give any time to, I can't even imagine talking about that kind of thing until there's a reason presented to me that I need to know that information.
In theory, posts on a web forum can come from the future if they're hooked up through a... I forget what, but there's some way to look at information that travels through time, because mirrors. I forget these details of these things that I don't really know much about, but I'll just put it simply, I don't know where Missus Yoda came from, what was going on with all that, and why I kept getting strange questions and intuitions without explanation. Mostly because I had nothing more exciting going on, and I wished to be able to show off what I had done with my time. If I had to, that was. This was not a well-formed plan. Art Bell started Dark Matter while I sat alone in my parents’ basement, it never occurred to me to get on a website and talk to friends about Art Bell because I didn't have any, my nose fix was not for another several years, and I cannot stress to all of you enough how significant the ability to breathe has been to my life. Extra oxygen has really enhanced my abilities to perceive color and have a conversation without looking like a spaz. I don't know what I was doing, but I had no other encouragement or ambition at the time. I've been here ever since. Did I just show up and take root? Good Lord did she keep a diary of that time, probably not, or maybe she did! I have no fucking idea. Would I want to read it? And I think if the three of them to any significant measure had thought that was a good idea, it probably could have happened—nobody has a restraining order, right? just the usual EMERGENCY (I know I feel alarmed) so I think that since it didn't it's probably an indicator that was... undesirable. Reasons unclear. Seems like it would have been something that might have been able to be talked about those two back-to-back therapy sessions for $300 bucks we did, which I rather like, but it seemed to be a threat that I was figuring things out.
Here's what I think is funny: that_woman hadn't lost her_biscuits any sooner, she apparently didn't have any positive stories about me to share, and doing this in public is the best idea I ever had my life. It's brilliant, it never occurred to me that the entire world will want to read this, I never thought I'd have 20 years of catching up to do with somebody that I didn't really know if I'd ever see again, and certainly not like this.
And what was that you said about running a forum into the ground with personal journals, given that I remember being left alone on a forum before too and I don't remember you sticking around to keep company while watching me. I do remember many years ago getting the impression that I was trying to be baited into believing that Metron was you, and that this was being done so that I would be fooled into "talking to you" all night while being misled by what would actually be a robot, what a thighslapper, while you did something else that didn't have anything to do with me... oh I know, you could have encouraged Anita to post what she did that night, because if you would would not know until then that that was I oh who the Hell knows this is way too much speculation. Note: (who the Hell knows) in this case means everybody you trusted not to tell me, which would be everyone.
It sounds like a real blast. I personally would have wanted to let somebody know that I was aware, rather than hide but I'm not sure what happened to you to make you less secure, and so far I don't prefer it, I liked your confidence better before.
Hear that? And I do mean read the words out loud when you see them, she thinks I'm funny... no no she thinks, that it's funny that I think; that's even better. And there's misspelled words here. Maybe one maybe two I can't be bothered to scroll up and look.
Definitely wrote funy instead of puny I think, but I think she's probably trying to be clever and make it look like she's trying to imply that I'm puny, even though I can't really go for that with my recently enhanced street cred. The last thing I am is puny. Oh, never mind, of course she's talking about my Mike Rowe penis. Definitely the last thing on my mind.
Okay I got to scroll up again and see what she said I forget. (Jackstar contemplates his memories of Azzerae’s journal, which NATURALLY Okay I'm back, I think I think she's been switched with the other one, this one seems a little more I don't want to say sophisticated more like polished or something something with more vibration to it it's different or maybe she just oh wait that sounds bad I don't want to apply that I don't mean to insult this person.
I hope it never gets to that point. I can be pretty vicious when I unleash my safety features that prevent me from being pretty vicious by accident, because I've come to find that a lot of people just didn't seem to go to public school when they grow up and the concept of words hurting them is one that keeps them up at night. Now my case it hasn't happened since I was 8 or 9, when I was watching The Dukes Of Hazzard, and there was this commercial for something called the jelly belly doll I can still hear the sound of the song. The jingle... it haunts me. I had imagined that night laying in bed definitely trying to sleep and escape the visions, that everyone that looked at me would just say something insulting and then start singing the song and thankfully it was just it was just one pair of girls who did that and apparently the look on my face and was so devastated that nobody else in the school did that ever again; to me anyway.
And I was right. I went to school and within 30 minutes I heard some girls laughing at me jelly belly jelly belly as I had a pannis at a young age because reasons and I found it to be very horrifyingly embarrassing. It is of course a very medical thing very Latin thing for the pannis and the penis to be written the same way because they're both of course incredibly embarrassing.
Remember in pulp fiction where that was her face the French word he was fucking she said that it would be cute to have a pot belly I didn't think it would be cute to have potbelly although I guess if she had when she was cute she could just get on her knees and cuddle it while I did it from her ear but I really like that either because the further away in the ass I can get the better.
But I digress what was I doing? Oh yeah. Princess message haunted me. Maybe I should start proofreading better, but it sometimes pleases me.
you,
That one word right there gets me hot as a goddam pistol. That the word even could not be there, but that it
needs to be there. The loathing could not be as precise as it needs to be on its own without it. The Master is talking about
actual douchebag. The
real McCoy. Shithead MacGillicuddy. I can just see it now, the brow furrowing as
she's sweatin’ it, thinking over on the exact combination of vowels and consonants; the selection of which, she's going to select and use by her very own free will choice alone to get across to the audience—well, Me—the exact amount of vile, bucolic and/or abhorrent distaste she truly feels for me and my ilk, at times, her diminishing reductive 'n' scathing judgements always relentlessly focusing in on down to settle upon the slovenly, beastly nature that I casually cast about from my personage with while walking around, sometimes in a bathrobe, sometimes stark naked, that -is- my preference, and certainly of late, I am quite nearly always brazenly unkempt, unshaved, and needless to say, hardly even ever washed
at all; slovenly presented unthinkingly to the outside world fore it to observe me like I don't even care either it or me, coz like, right now: I don't. Look at that shit, I just wrote all that text following
one word that she just thought would be a little add-on for style. Maybe panache. Not really so much grace needed when describing my Most Loyal Highness.
a fifty year old man
1. Okay, except I'm 49. You round it up to 50... why? It's a great number, it's got a 5 digit in it, it's even and not odd very nice, you can count up to all of it on one hand if your county finger is 10 and I know you do, except I'm not 50 I'm 7 squared, and then the subtext is getting older is bad... Yeah, well maybe for you. Know your own worth, and add tax that you pay to yourself, well I am really stoned everything that I write looks unbearably stupid, I mean not like the old way, well maybe I do I'll have to go back and look at something I wrote.
I'm not even there yet and I'm already not even close to peak performance levels. All I do is get out of bed and work at the internet, occasionally go out for supplies to spend the day fretting over the growing cost of, occasionally remember to dutifully consume said supplies, and running the occasional diplomacy gig. (Picture this: me talking to myself, except with feeling. That's about it. Some arm waving involved. I think that's a sign of weakness though.) Now, I know that I can't prove that I have occasionally been asked to mediate disputes between two beings outer space, how the fuck that happens I don't fucking know, like they got like a teleporter for telepathy or they got like a shining like fuck it whatever some kind of
fucking imaginary Sp/Å\ce age New Thought shit. (One time I saw her disappear in a shrinking wormhole type deal like when that evil version of Diane on Twin Peaks: The Return got all angry and then dissolved into nothingness. This was the conversation that several months ago when I was staying at the other motel, and something developed in the neurosphere that she needed to explain to me coz like I was
totesirritated for
bullshit and then she had some dumb conversation with me that I don't quite remember very well and then at the end of it she just disappeared into a collapsing pinsize black hole... and then she was gone. I remember for sure that I actually had a conversation with her, because whether it was in the mind or she was actually there in the room in front of me, whatever she said to me in our conversation was annoying enough that I got on Twitter on a Space and tried to record myself complaining for an hour and a half and the recording was mysteriously blanked.
But that was a different woman than the woman who was at the house when I came home Christmas Eve as well as a different woman who called the police Christmas Eve. I don't know if it can be instantaneous teleportation or they hide behind curtains or they get big get small real fast like there's four tinker bells and on her shoulder and then one big one carries them around, like, I don't know, nor do I care, I love the woman whether I'm dealing with 17 or just the mind of a 17 year old, I love Allison very much. Especially now that there's armed guards keeping her away from me and there is constant monitoring of all my digital communications so every word that I say to anyone can be tracked and packed and hacked to verify that I did not contact her, coz like there's no way of knowing she might get some bad little soup or some good Hyacinth chowder, and then she just might get a wild hair up her ass at any time, and start throwing death curses again. I've seen this actually create something that bounces off my aura and one time a little piece of something fell to the floor, like a leaf or something. I know how this sounds, but I really don't get that high that often, and while I'm not yet convinced of the
totesreality of it all, I've never had these type of peak reality experiences with anyone else, and she will still always be the first person to actually show me more actual magic by accident in her day-to-day living than she ever wished to show me on purpose. Not having met very many people who use such skills at all, let alone second naturedly, I've come to find that most are not real excited about teaching that kind of thing to anyone. (Obviously this woman is somewhat cagey on details. I don't know how that's worked out for her before, and I may never know how it works out with her at all ever, because I'm going to need a pretty impressive story to justify to myself the effort I would subsequently have to go through in order to figure out what the hell to say to any of her remaining friends and family. I can't talk to anybody. I have no idea what's happening. Have they all built me a statue yet? I want to be looking into the sunset wearing a cool hat, and if I can have a cape too so much the better. The more I describe, the less real it seems, because that's how reality is constructed. Life is but a dream. I achieved transcendental illumination at age 22... I don't need to hear any shit from you people. The fact that I can write about this at all without having to censor myself with animated gif from a sitcom that nobody watches anymore speaks volumes as to my character and level of foundation infrastructure knowledge. I'm pretty bad at writing with voice to text while I'm this stoned though.
I won't lie; I've gone soft. I haven't had to engage in Mortal Kombat with anybody at all in several weeks. That doesn't actually help me practice whatever it is that I'm referring to as mortal Kombat, but it is fun to say and I do have a certain natural talent for being violent in the neurosphere, given that while it may still be violent to engage in mental violence, it is something I can do comfortably other than leaving it for last without getting out of my chair. And so how violent could A Man be while he's sitting calmly, twiddling his thumbs while relaxed in a chair with the name “Hannibal Lecter” on the back? Well I guess some would
look calm.
Then, I somehow go to bed, and snore around for a while—and wake up determined to do it all over again. 7 months of this life, and it is
totesredic. It's like
spetsnaz training. I need to be at the bleeding edge of the performance curve. I'm learning compensatory techniques to deal with the crushing ennui, that are really quite innovative for their time.
I take the trash out differently now, I'm not so hard on myself for getting my coupons out of the Little Nickel. I genuinely enjoy the music of Crystal Method. I say things to myself, like “I'm going to do that tomorrow,” and I actually mean it.
clutches his pearls everytime I speak real truth to power.
Oh, I get it: she's wearing them—again—and you're going down on her and then you think you're being clever. Well, they're not really
my pearls anymore, and they never were
my pearls, they belong to My Mother and then they belonged to My Mother's Estate and then somebody needed them, which I don't actually begrudge anyone... Because the truth is I had them sitting around at arm's length
for years and I didn't even look at them.
I'm aware of at least five timelines that Humanity is valid on, that's running through our world’s trajectory for the time being. I've no idea how any of this works. I'm real new at this. I've been drinking I've been getting stoned I've been vaping I've been staring at pictures of mushrooms and wondering if I can find one that smells like cheesecake... It's just that kind of home detention experience.
