Poems makes soul connect here
Wherever the words do I so steer
Forever in Akashic records I read
I make my “self” what I shall feed
Make wavelength whatll become
Sharin’ the highest of all wisdom
Much akin the ways of days yore
Receive same on yur own shore!
Fisher of men is the honest man
Such b the majesty of Gods plan
Red rocket the fucker into therapy
I can vouch from personal experience, Terk is fair game as far as Tarzan is concerned. They do lean together, which apparently makes him last longer.
My ass is though, and in some dialects, that can be considered an animal. He’s more of a dick, though, the jackass.
Yes, it was like takeout boxes from a restaurant
Wait, you guys DON’T take the ducks? What do you do after you shoot them?
Ah good, I had a positive impact on the world. Now I can proceed on my plan of wreckless self-endangerment, so I can die on a high note, and ethically! My life partner likes climbing. I’ve tried it before, on a rock wall at a museum, but I appreciate the challenge of having to find a route up. The dexterity you need for advance climbs is impressive!
If you have trouble getting the “feel” of a pattern, you can use tissue paper to slow it down and develop the connections. I used the library of juggling website that has moving stick figure diagrams to figure put how my hands n arms should move. Consistency is more important than brute force effort. Integrating it into a sets within a routine begets the best way to learn patterns and solidify with them.
Also, I’m a dude now, but I’ve transcended gender.
I’m supposed to make my own podcast. The aliens told me I was Alex Jones’ replacement, but I think I might also be Jordan Peterson’s. But either way, I’m Victorious Phoenix, and I am not nearly as good of a vocal communicator as a written one, so you’re gunna get batshit crazy right out the bat. Old videos show how far I have come, which my one handler said would inspire people.
I’m not able to get a good doctor or therapist cuz I’m poor and in Arizona and my medical record has “meth” in it, so I get shuffled to the worst doctors who don’t believe me and my insane life story.
I moved to Arizona two years ago and they treat me like shot because I have a strange story and they think I’m still on meth, so naturally everything that I say to them is a lie. No chance to being believed or understood.
That they care
I want to be on the regiment I’m supposed to be on, which is 1mg RisperiDONE in the morning (just saw they labeled it funny), and 2mg at night and 1000mg deprakote, but I’m only on 1mg of risperidone a day because it takes forever to see a doctor and they all lie to me and I don’t trust them, and these Arizona docs, with the shape I was in while in Portland, don’t believe anything I say, and the cops are setting us up, as I have to believe is planned, because I faked schizophrenia to get outta ROTC, but it’s ok, cuz I’m actually a schizoautismo doorigard of profound retardation.
Do new word. Sexual. Ah fuck! I don’t like being sexual because it evokes all these feelings of fear, but therein, I like being sexual because sex is fucking sex. I don’t like coming on to someone at all. I’ve done performance art before, guided by God, to be awkward or cringe or unsettling in a variety of ways, and I did so in the awareness it would heal me, choosing to overcome my fear, while believing I was a cop, which I believe now was done out of love and compassion.
But I like to joke about sex like Beethoven joked about poop. Autism! Aspergers? A rare form of ADHD that often gets misdiagnosed as schizophrenia? That’s what God told me, and I don’t get a euphoria from amphetamines, which I’m genuinely not on. I have a small amount of DXM in me because my life partner is financially abusing me and I cannot fight in the vacuum of my soul against the whelling feeling of being alone and fucked with and doom n gloom n all.
Censorship. Expression. I hear the announcement from the middle school I love next to. God knows what His ass is doing, and I think I do too. This, I am really starting to see how everything works out, despite y’know, 653k charges being thrown at me, for reasons that I worry about literally zero percent of the time because I’m not who I once was.
Thus, I am good being Victorious.
Oh that’s a typo?! I thought all meaning hinged on that! Now I’m soft, having been deceived and let down, once again!
I have the source code for the original autism. It involves a lot of updates to the attention coordination that led to the fall of man in the agricultural revolution, where we exploded in number in permanent settlements and no longer could function in Joint Synchronized Attention, which is what a flock of birds or a school of fish is in. But, the more the world changes to revolve around screen-dependent dopamine processing, autism is going to keep growing as we as a global society go througg another axial shift in consciousness.
I don’t want to defend my past self because while I wasn’t evil, I was garbage, and while it objectively wasn’t my fault that I entered college broken n shitty, I let it get worse until I realized I was going over a cliff with the help of a friend and I started working on myself, then acid happened, and juggling, and more acid, and MKULTRA, and a cult, and homelessness. Oh! I was a woman for a few years. Can’t forget that. I stayed at the women’s homeless shelter in Portland; I wasn’t the only one with a beard there! And that’s all going to factor in to how much the hate-fueled peoples are going to fuck themselves for it was my one handler that told me that it was my recovery and transformation that would inspire people.
I also get stiff thinking about the chthaoctardriam of my schizophrenia.
I am levels of weapons grade neurodivergent and I have been weaponized by the military industrial complex to start the memeplexic fusion reaction because I accidentally told my ROTC cadre that my (nonexistent) sister got me pregnant over the course of weeks, and then I had the Craigslist incident, which only helped me be so counterintelligent. Can’t stare at enough goats, y’know?
It’s the fucking bat man, I swear! I just many funny comments on the internet.