This blog is neither truth, nor fiction. Usually it’s just a drunken account of what my imagination holds, so fuck you.
It’s hard to bring my words into the light; it’s because I speak in different languages and dialects every day. Mostly English is ABCs to 3 year old foreign speakers, adult conversation is in a different language, and goes even more in others. It makes it tough to describe what I’m doing. I mean… not really, just can’t do that here or anywhere. There are certain privileges about being chosen that have to allow for privacy and secrecy, right? I feel that I don’t have that luxury anymore, although I still live my life that way.
A few weeks ago I had “someone” flick me off in the corner thinking I wasn’t watching. I can’t think anymore that this is a coincidence… it’s either a preconceived plan to try and piss me off and challenge me, or an act of anger thought to be privately vented. Either way… it seems petty. It’s petty to think that you can swoop in and suddenly sway me into doing and wanting what you think is right. Is it? Is it right? I mean, did you already calculate into the next realm? Or is that far past.. did I hiccup your plan? Did I throw the monkey wrench into it all? If so, good. I say that because I am fighting against a conspiracy, waged like a war against me. And for what? Because I was born on the right sign? How foolish you are to think that that is enough. Sometimes those born on the sign wake up with an attitude, like I have. An attitude that is pissed off and frustrated because I have been awoken before you came along. I have seen you manipulating me…. honestly I can tolerate it What I can’t tolerate is the criticisms, judgements, snide comments, and snickers. If you think you can do better, then do better. Leave me alone. Your bullying is not going to push me or intimidate me. I don’t care what happens to me. I never have. If you pressure me though my family or my friends, I will be empathetic to them, but it is YOUR karma that you’ll have to deal with.
“Do you suppose that I’d come running? Do you suppose I’d come at all?”
I’ve gotten your 420 codes in the past week. That’s nice. But that’s bullshit. We’re past that. Make a phone call in the literal sense. Stand up. If you’re worried about changing history, you’ve fucked that already, so you might as well go all in.
Grow a universal set of bravery and talk to a brother in English. It’s like a surprise party that’s already been compromised, but you still feel like you can’t say anything. Great, whatever, just fuck off with the middle fingers. i don’t follow anything but my gut, which has a direct connection with me and my God, and a firewall that you can’t hack.
Point of this writing—you want to move slow, keep going the way your going. You want to move ahead, break out of the inside of your minds. Say what you want, say what you mean. Says Dispatch.