An Angry Apology

As always, what is written in this blog is either fact, fiction, or a glitch in the Matrix, which I guess would be considered fact too.

I love comics. Why? Because I understand Stan Lee and because I'm angry. In my life right now I'm angry. I'm angry for a lot of reasons. One reason is the kind of meditation I have been going through on the preparation for my Buddhist course next year is trodding up lots of old memories. Combined with the new memories that are happening right now, angry that someone I want away from my life is still pulling the marionette strings of my life. I recently left a place, a place where I had a lot of friends. I lied to them about why I was leaving. I lied to protect someone that I knew I had to walk away from, but loved anyways. In the end, even though I did so to protect them, I got proverbial fucked in the end anyways. To my friends out there, you know who you are--I'm sorry I lied, but it was an agreement with someone else. Why do I love comics so much though, you ask? Because right now I'm tearing up into The Punisher on Netflix. It is giving me comfort because as I go deeper into myself on the path I'm taking, I'm slowly alleviating all of this anger and stress. I'm watching The Hulk smash, I'm watching Batman punch and kick, I'm watching the bad guys destroy. And then I'm watching The Punisher have a sentimental moment, I'm watching Hulk turn back into Bruce Banner (David? no?), I'm watching Batman teach Robin a valuable lesson. And then I'm calm. And I'm laughing. The Punisher had me laughing today at Frank's face when he was denied a sandwich in the van. I'm proud to say that I'm in my 40's and I love comics. I now make comics. I'm very proud about my comic love. It does help me want to be a better person.

They still know how to make LSD

As always, what you read in this blog is probably fiction, maybe fact, don't remember what it was occifer.

Q-94

A digital relic was discovered in a cave outside the New Territories. It had a chemical structure never seen before. Before The Hack erased all files across the world I'm sure that it was named.

We brought the digital relic back to our lab. A day away and crawnies had taken it over. They were everywhere. Legs shed in all corners of the room and a smell that took over a week to vent, and multiple rituals of green before it was sanctified.

We didn't have the tools to start, so we had to make them. That took some time. Digital relics that date before The Hack had to be turned in to Amen outposts at any Quadrant pass, so you can imagine what it was like sneaking in the tools and chemicals we needed. 

I ventured to the city on a lave jumper. I ate a decent dinner, and I took it on Broadway, where everyone but a pure Halfling goes. I didn't know what it was at first, but during my morning mediation, The Life Force, The Energy instructed me to continue with the feelings I had inside. It instructed me to put it under my tongue. It didn't take long for it to take effect. 

My body felt floating, but I felt connected to everything, like the roots of the earth to the ground, like I do when I speak to The Life Force, The Energy. But it got to be overwhelming. It got to be where I felt everything, all at once. The music was blaring, the beings were dancing and the energy I felt in the room felt like a tidal wave over my heart. I felt only happiness in the room, and I questioned that, and it made me sad. I went outside, paused on the street that had just been raised. Wheel buses were allowed on them now and I sat and stared at something that I was still getting used to. No one could still figure out how to stop the Earth from shifting under us. They even built a noise reverberator to muffle the quake noises, so I sat there watching the being pass, still avoidant to make eye contact or talk for fear of being reported. 

I watched a beggar on the street. The Z chromosome had bent his pliable bones into a curve and left him permanently helpless to run. He looked like the last brain helmet had done him in. He ate food out of box that was already half eaten by another being that had either given it to him or left it. No way that he could run a ploy on any being in that condition. A being that plays that con can only hold their bones in place for 30 seconds in that position before they start to shake. No, it was the brain helmet that crippled him. Probably malfunctioned when he was in that position and fried him. A common problem not worthy of being fixed by the Amen. 

I sat there and watched him out of the corner of my eye. Even he could turn me in for a profit and I wasn't willing to get caught with a digital file's chemistry in my brain. I closed my eyes and connected myself to him without a mind link. I never thought that was possible. 

The 428 won't stop. I waited for a wheel taxi that had a 4.28 rating to pick me up, but my console froze in the frequency burst from the opening doors from one of the only places we could still speak in the city. He never called to see where I was, only sat there hoping to make the 3000 rallods if I didn't show. I was going further away and the moment was surging, so he missed out on bigger payout. My account was charged, and registered in the data base. Too many no shows on simple things like will get Acommanders knocking on your door, but I didn't care. I was free in my body and in my mind, able to set up a mind link without any response from any other being. 

So I sat on the street for another hour watching jisquers who were transformed into giants pick on beings who got the small side of the Z chromosome. In this Quadrant beings engaging in such a way still was legal. The human side of me wanted to intervene. The Wanderer in me got a direct line from The Life Force, the Energy. Now that The 420 Woman taught me how to tap in to its direct line, it leads me and on that night I was instructed not to engage. 

I rode out of the city and then switched to a hover taxi when the raised road ended. They were all there waiting in a line like croandas that wait to pounce on zepondias that cross nuprene streams. It was all beautiful. My body radiated in waves of colors I've never seen before on any color chart on any Amen language ever. I felt the colors. 

The lava shimmered as I went across. It was translucent in places, iridescent in others, and at one point, I could see right through it and down it, like a camera in a vein, all the way to the Queen's lair under the ground. It gave me something in that moment. 

I caught a picture in the settlement's community tent. The Knife Runner 2504. It didn't even occur to me that it was A-428 years. I cried in my hammock that night and when I was done it felt as if a weight was lifted from my back. I slept for 10 hours, which I hadn't for weeks. I woke up and felt weightless in my mind. It was then that I knew how I was going to beat them.

Lest, we forget...

Whatever you read in this blog is neither fact or fiction. It is nothing but bullshit that only should be appreciated for entertainment.

Q45 

The writing on the wall. 

He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster... and if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.  ~Mark Twain

We must not forget why we fight. We must capture random moments of joy and hold onto them, no matter how long they last and occupy our minds and our hearts with what there is to lose to Them. That in and of itself is protection. ~The Book of Edgar 

Roger that 421

As always, fact or fiction, I'll never say. Not to decide, just to enjoy.

The signal came in. It was loud and clear, and it came in the moment before HQ radioed down.

"You are in line," crackled out of the earpiece.

"I know. Not next in line, but I'm in line."

"Do you know your assignment?"

"Now it is loud and clear. The signal came in."

"How can you interpret it?"

"I've done this before."

You don't have to be scared

This blog is a combination of fictional stories and real events. You can decide which one is which, or not. 

A-224. Quadrant 69

Out into the village last night. They were all around me and they were whispering. They've been around me all weekend. Whispers of "approaching him in a bar" "We have to tell him" "He can do it". It was nice. I can easily see people now who are in this. I say to all of you, if you are going to come and do it, come and do it. The answer, the reason, does not matter anymore. Obviously, there is a job to do. We have a task. I'm pretty sure you are not hostile towards me anymore or have bad intentions, although I am skeptical of all of this already. 

Whatever the truth is: I'm already a slave, I'm going to die, I'm an alien, I'm an alien experiment, it really doesn't matter any more. I'm giving you the green light. I'm open. I'm here, but I'm not making the first move. You know I can't. I have a list of things I can't do, any of which you ask me, then I will already know that whatever this is, is only in my head. If you ask me certain questions, request me to do some things, or tell me some really big no-no's, then I'll know to check myself in to the clinic. You know what those things are.

There is a first time for everything...

Good morning~! These days, I wake up at 3:30 in the morning to teach Chinese students online! Today I had a student sitting at his desk! The screen went dark, which does occasionally. It came back on and said student had taken his cell phone into the bathroom for a poop and decided to show it to me. Awesome man, but I do have some suggestions on how to wipe your ass better. Now I don't need a cup of coffee to wake up or a bottle of Ipecac to start my bulimia regiment. Thanks bud!

The Grind

Whatever you read here is usually out of a Sci-fi piece... hardly anything written here is real. But you be the judge.

Grind it out. I see many people on facebook and around social media with their hearts out, transparency, honesty. I love it. I love that people are becoming/have become/are being forced to become more emotional and sentient beings. Some people share heart breaking stories about their parents, their jobs, their health. Many people have feelings of suffering, of pain, and heartache. Grind it out. Head down, eyes up, steady pace. Grind it out. Whatever the task, the problem, the suffering, grind it out. Sitting and doing nothing for the moment is OK. We all need a moment to relax, take everything in, and refocus. But the problems we have don't go away. We have to face them eventually. So when they come at you, financial difficulties, health, death, life, suffering, doing nothing does nothing. Being stagnant eventually does worse than nothing. Grind it out. Put one foot in front of the other every day. Keep moving. Don't stand still. Find the 1% silver lining in every bad situation. But keep grinding it out. Never stop. The cycle that you are on will come to an end. The rollercoaster of life that has happiness and suffering will bring you back up again in an arc after you have dipped to a low curve. The sound of the grinding of the coaster's gears remind us of that. For sculptures, the grinding is what shapes rock into chiseled beauty. One day you will see the beauty in why you are suffering at the moment. Until then, head down, eyes up. Grind it out. You're not alone.   #grinditout #buddhism #nonottheappAdamKent

I wrote this the other day, then read Aubrey Marcus' post. Listening to him and thinking of myself, his post is filled with beauty, hardly any suffering in it. My post is just filled with suffering and hardly any beauty in it. It got me to thinking. Even though I am suffering right now, sleeping in my car, sleeping on random couches, having to get hotel rooms, and all through it teaching from whatever wifi I can get. Sometimes even the hotel rooms would drop me on their signal or others (Residence Inn) had none whatsoever and I had to change hotel rooms at 3am so I could be up to teach at 6 am. At the RI I was teaching, sitting on the floor of a dirty stairwell hallway with crack heads and prostitutes walking past me because it was the only place in the hotel with working wifi. I've had to drive to Cincinnati about 3 times in 6 weeks. I had to do some crazy insane schedule that had, like a 3 day plan of teach, sleep for a few hours, get errands done, teach, sleep for 2 hours, teach, sleep for an hour, teach sleep for 1/2 hour, then drive to Cincinnati shaking my head away the whole time, to go right back to teaching, and few hours of sleep. I think about the past 8 months... the path I've been on, the path I chose to take and damn, if there aren't huge fucking speed bumps, pot holes, roadside hazards, patrolling cops, and accidents at the yin/yang, and I think that even though I'm struggling, I look at the positive. I now have two nights off. I haven't had 2 nights off in a row (except for Canada, which was glorious) since I've been in Nashville, which is about 7 weeks. For 7 weeks I have worked everyday teaching, every day that I have a car and that I can, am physically able to, I go out and drive UBER. One day this will be in a book too, whether I write it or someone else does. It's The Grind. I was put into it to keep me here for the time being. Again. 

So, for you guys that are monitoring my "well-being", just checking. Most of what is going to come out of my mouth from here on out is going to be in a video log. There is too much to say, think, and feel right now and I don't want to miss anything. But even though this is The Grind and for a few months it's going to be tiresome and I'm going to be sleepy, I fucking love this. Bring it on, bring more of it on. The more all of this sinks in, the more I'm feeling empowered, like in a way that makes me see the picture in my mind more clearly. The picture was never in doubt, it was always there. But now the visions, the premonitions, and the deja vu are clearer and happening more often.

To that Sentinel

As always, what you read here is either fact or fiction. Someone once wrote and asked which one it was. I wrote back and told him to go fuck himself and if he wanted to hear it in person to take a number and get in the line of "Never Fucking Checked."

I heard lots of cursing from the time after I caught that Sentinel who was standing post near me once. I know what your job was, a diver, and after my eyes snapped open and caught your staring face with gaping eyes I knew exactly what your real job was. Both of you stood up and looked down over The Rock as if you were acting out a training exercise. That was what gave you away, not that you were sloppy, ironically enough it was that you were too good at your jobs. But it was when you went down to my wife that MY training kicked in and I took off after you. You said nothing and played as if you were going for a piss, but that fire in my gut burned hotter than it normally did. I was on to you before you woke up that morning. Don't be too hard on yourself, though. I've had more secrets given to me than you have, different kinds of training. That's why I've been selected for whatever task you're all eventually going to come at me with.

But your eyes told me, just like my eyes told you. 

I just want to let you know, mate, wherever they shoved you off after that, or whatever they stuck to you for what they thought was a fuck up... it wasn't you. I've been on to you guys for some time now. I just wish you'd stop fucking around. "we should tell him" "he knows" "I told you he knows" "I'm gonna stay and see how much he knows"... y'all think I don't have ears and sound doesn't travel, or even worse, you're at the stage where you think whispering things to each other in front of me and talking blatantly is going to last forever and you could give two fucks about what I think about all of this now that the secret is out. I love it when you think you're talking normally but you appear to be whispering or talking normally when you think you're whispering. Hard to keep up with it all isn't it, especially when I'm staring at you right in the face. Hard to appear normal when weird shit is going around all over the place that others can't see, you're surrounded by said people, but you feel like you're in a conversation with one other person, but they're avoiding your questions, your eyes. It's like every single other goddamn person is frozen and you're sitting there with a person that is treating you like you're transparent, yet knows you can hear them. 

You can't even pull off plans to keep me someplace anymore without giving off the obvious odor of a dog taking a shit in a Macy's department store. Just come out with it already. Either you're gonna do it before I die, or I'm going to die soon and the angels are showing themselves to me beforehand and gonna explain everything when I get to Hell's gate. Either, or, I don't think you'd reveal what you have revealed to me already without a 421 behind it and about 10,000 years of syncing up about 100,000,000,000 people that have come and gone since then, or someone who is tweaking the Matrix behind the curtain of the Wizard, without the plan of coming together on Union Street. So bring out the dragon, I'll pull up a chair with all ears and listen to what you've got. Just because I'm destined for something doesn't mean I'm going to do it, especially now with me knowing all of this shit, spies you have blow their cover on the first eye glance on a Saturday night are not making me feel confident about your intentions.

You can't even get current caretakers to lie without flushing their faces pink. Come out with it already. I'm pretty sure nothing is going to surprise me; whether I'm currently living on one of the 75,000 planets where alternate realities of me are running around, yet I'm living on a planet that has been designed to bring myself to consciousness, like, a whole planet. Maybe I'm an A.I. designed from the beginning to be a real person, maybe I'm a future prophet. Maybe I'm all three. The point is, plans change. Change with them to ensure the outcome is the same one you're going to want.

When Looking Back

As always, this blog is either fact or fiction... just enjoy it if you must. Or not. 

I guess it's important to put down what has transpired the last few days. I'm not going to be able to do so in one sitting because I have to start choosing my words very carefully, not because of discretion, but for the purpose of understanding. Mostly to me. I don't know what the fuck happened the past few days really. But I woke up this morning in Nashville, Tennessee and asked, "How the fuck did I get here?" to myself.

Well, I was kicked out of a place I was staying. That sucked. That's never happened to me before. I've been in countless debates, arguments, tiffs, and all out screaming matches with people I know and love in my life; we all have. But I've never had anyone ever kick me out of a place before. I was pissy on a day, well, I think may be I shouldn't of been, but I don't think I did anything so irreputable . I was feeling like no one was wanting to help me on a day that I really needed help, asked for help and made a plan with people to get help, which ultimately led to be being kicked out of the house I had been staying at for 167 years. Maybe I misunderstood the situation, but I don't think so. 

I've had people be completely pissy with me before as I have been pissy to other people before. I think everyone who has ever lived their life around other people has, and if you say you haven't then you're a fuckin' hypocrite.  Yet, the day I was pissy was to a man that had absolutely lost all control over his life. From what I've told about a half dozen people, they interpreted this person as a 'weak and helpless man that that was using some of the only control he had in his life left by enacting it onto you because you were dependent on him.' 

So I had to leave. Honestly, for about a couple of hours I was freaking out thinking what the hell I was going to do. I had to quit a job on the way down, after packing up my room. Now, I'm a Quadrant away, hover taxi in the port, teaching from The Book of Edgar at night and to make the bills.  Hover taxi was taken out by a drunk larnoy. I was driving around the burber melon fields. So I've been out of commision.

Not only that, but training mates are coming down on me after I was displaced from hover jet 421. Kind of synchronistic in a way to my vision and my destiny's path. Their meat is that now I'm walking tall because I have the ability to produce, distribute, and become accustomed to the effects of kibbie. Not only am I studying it's methods, side effects (none but a desire to play music), but also the delivery method is now apparently archaic so I have built a vaporizer in cartridges that can disperse the vapors into the atmosphere. Now it is time to get some work done.

The strangest thing is, that the strangest things keep happening around me, but now they aren't strange, just normal. The numbers follow me still. I am still loyal, I will be triumphant, and then, maybe, I can be truly happy instead of flexing all of the time.