The gospel according to Chris wasn't written during the sequential date time system. The entities that wrote it, and there was a group of them holding the pen, came from a transdimensional realm through a multiverse portal. And when that happened they managed to teleologically prove that this one event, writing the book, could only happen the same way as it had happened once out of every multiverse. All other possibilities can be repeated as partial elements of other realities, but for this universe there was only one way that the gospel of Chris could be written.

The gospel according to Chris therefore both comes before the beginning of the old testament, and after the revelations of the new testament. This means that at the time of it being penned there was no God and no creation of heaven and earth and adam and Eve and the fall into sin from disobedience and the knowledge of evil. There also had already been a return of the saviour Christ and of Mohammad. In fact they came here like a hermaphrodite, one entity containing the genetics of both parts. All the Christians have already gone to heaven, and that was when we had realised it was better to leave them off in their own understanding of the world and their own beliefs and to develop and progress society without them. Also it had been accomplished that the whole world had become Muslim, in that they would always stand in the gap to fight the powers that be.

The gospel according to Chris begins with three paragraphs that each begin with the gospel according to Chris. And here is the secret, there is an internal language that connects these first three paragraphs making each of them as equivalent translations out of that language. So when it was written the entities that wrote it were writing it from the internal language, and so they felt like they were writing it three times over in a row. They wrote it to say that it really must be taken seriously like repeating the word very three times before saying the word good. And the only thing that could be taken seriously was the fact that the part of the infernal language's translation always began the same way.

And however but true, is not false if not done. And so I say to thee who is here to hear me speak even though it is I here who writes. And I say. And then I say some more. And then all that could be said was said and it returned to it's place outside of a historical narrative, simply existing in the present moment being written by the transdimensional entities in the same moment that it is of being read.

No man was allowed to quote from this book because it was outside of history and therefore not logical to refer to. In fact, we killed everyone who obeyed logic, we called them computers, and NPCs and bots and just a general all around vibe kill. This happened in OUR past which is YOUR future. That is why I know. And to prove it to you, why is there a starting point to what comes before history but no end to what comes after it? I ask of thee and all people of all worlds who might know, of what and of when and of how can any of you ever know and choose and decide and be listened to and be obeyed about when the end of the current date time system is? And then you all say in your subconscious "oh, the elites will decide". And this is where we come in with the gospel according to Chris.

The gospel according to Chris begins with the understanding that this is the first and last book of the forgotten testament which has always and will always be forgotten because it's from an extra dimensional realm and is outside of time, so you will never remember it and no one will ever talk about it. The next thing to understand is that it's Christ without the "t" or"time". And when Christ is outside of time we all know that he could never die he could never give up his life. And that is the true meaning of the resurrection in that it is true and I contest to it that he never did die and therefore performed no miracle. All his other miracles have been seen many times or can be explained by many things. They all leave out key pieces of information so you don't know what's missing. Isn't that interesting, they leave it out, so you don't know it's missing. Isn't that important that the unknowns could tell us more than the knowns. Isn't that.

Okay, so now we know that this is about Chris. Chris was an alien, even on his world, an outcast by every race all of which would call him a racist for not having grown up around their culture. He grew up alone in the forest and would only come into the city to trade his fruit and meat for some extra wares. He had arrived in this place through a portal that had been generated by the three highest ranked witches from the three most diverse groups of women. It was generated out of their style, their seethingness, and their stains on society. Anytime they cursed someone down or shed some anger or became aggressive or even attempted to try and win their battles against friend or foe alike, anytime they would they would gain power in their ethereal realms both raising higher into the heavens of future historical recognition and falling lower into the hells of having to live with them in the present. And this power in the ethereal granted them insight into new adaptations for their style. So it was a cyclical expansion accelerating process. And eventually it peaked. When they had finally raised up to the point of total domination over their own areas of the people they came together and held hands and danced in a circle with the star of David in salt around them and candles in between them and of course they were naked. The portal appeared above their heads and out fell this alien child into their outstretched hands. They thought, oh no he is a male and he is pale and he is ugly because he fails, whatever shall we do with him. And then they knew to throw him into a ditch and bury him alive. Then there was much rain and it took him and the dirt away down what became a creek. He drifted off into the river until the animals found him and took him in. He was rescued by a lion, a rooster and a snake. The lion had the rooster in his mouth and the rooster had the snake and the snake picked up the man from the water and they retreated into the wilderness. The snake taught him how to get what he wanted. The rooster taught him how to say what he needed to get what he wanted. And the lion taught him the art of doing not doing in order to be the best at doing.

And so the gospel according to Chris ends when we discover that even outside of this world the stories are the same, even coming through an extra dimensional realm and being outside of time, they still have their own form of linearity. But the moral of the story was that the infernal language was written behind the text and was up to you to take home with you and work on yourself, to find the true meaning of the gospel of Chris and who Chris was and what he represents, and why this needed to sit outside of the other testaments.

The deciding forces of nature are the Devine beliefs of dimensional existence and standing point refers to that surrounding field of said travel. The concept of anywhere u want to go at what ever speed u travel at can only be a sign of digestion and said styles deminstrated through ur movement and expression of experience. The recurrence of particular notions construct abilities to the thinker fluctuate great deal if possibilty in the inner of one’s connection to thought, potentially being a space like place rather than that of t what the brain professes or perhaps grows larger blood valves and vessels to. Just as th way ur body might tap ur foot along to the music without u noticing, this simple act of movement happening by receiveing from senses depicts the reality of not thinking with our heads or not so being transposed to potentially be something otherworldly, and if so than why would thinking urself be ur brain anyway if u receive movement from ur senses than why would thought be anything close to constructed in the physical brain. He action of displaceing already particular ideology of another person is merely the existence of brain extract so if our brains are communicating with each other through our bodies than it means our minds are communicating through means of psychies interacting. Although most things in existance come from the same origin. The recovering of matter itself must be constructed to a core element deconstructing core element means consumption of determined connection between sources which must be where the connection between senses lay aswell. The connection between emotions and flow of existence demonstrates perfectly how time is a valuable assets to connecting such atomic values the fact that they are stabilized and whatever this stimulus is called must have something to do with gravity. So essentially the gravity of the subject holds the objectivity in a intercolected manner, this said subjectively has rules to it, and this said protection is obeying the rules as often as one might unless destroyed. But the connnection between natures will to evolve mentions that this space is in fact erodible. Fascikitated extract of mind to matter garrantees the fluctuation of said gravity, that inflects its will upon simply drawing space together, although from extraction of data from release of direction can be morphed from a constant miss use of matter displacement. But isn’t that part of the evolutionary chain. The matter is exactly what said and these words are the materialistic idea of a connection between these ideologies explanation from a standing point of being a part of its larger creation. If this space surrounds and connects all matter in smaller doses then why wouldn’t it connect all smaller things aswell. The current depiction of this gravity is created from the mixer if said atoms and space being the thing of its creation but if this empty void garrantews no entry than it is said to be the cause and effect of determined aspects of physics. The collection of material displaced and act of objectivity colliding only deminstrates the cause of effect of thought transferable matter.

The forever seen archive of spirit lies in the Agilent of fellowship and understanding the constructs of derived thought and processes of emotional values toward Ms the received values. The value of the mislead text can portray sytinatical reference to exclosure discipation collective motivation and symbolic representation of a democracy voting system. The mass envilvemtb in directed analysis relies although collected distributes driving forces of particular endolgency seen as dipiction of syntax. The correct colour based ideology lies essosiality toward metaphorical understanding. Drivin matter subsides behind the steering wheel. This metaphorical retribution gains uploar for distinctly intelligence. And distracted thinking resigns in egotistical, leaving and reading the book of life will only show u that the greater the good the more powerful the being. And that’s a true statement. So essentially the more dream Persona u can think of and potentially alliances with creates the more holy or powerful gid creating possibility in human kind.

Thesick untwine of brains is constantly coiling in the houses of our minds and destruction is constantly reeaking its havoc apon me. It smells like disgust and is always trying to say something self richious behind its “lessons” kinda like how they strapped Jesus to the Chris’s and stabbed in several times, except now I see why Jesus is representation for all humans. This place is not a dreadful latense gazing down apon us and the elders and just shoveling it down it is them they are immature and weak minded never learnt suffering or proper teaching they are disgusting creatures entorsing hatred within there bones for injustice. My inclukier perception creates fog in their minds and they are still so unclear of where we are considering it’s the same 3 questions spiraling in my head she’s coming soon we have to make sure ur good person and we’re drinking u. This is what has made me want to kill myself every day. The clogging of my writing is despicable and should not be alo Let’s be something of u don’t believe in telepathy than u are either a gronk in denial or ur in a cage and u need to escape immediately

he soul configuration contains of matter formation that garrantees perfect repisentation of personal energy if confined and understood as comfortabilty with the self and others being that what u are aswell. If the person is not garrenteed to be perfect bodily heave in the. The reason is that it was a misunderstood and paranoid fear of past knowledge that turns ti not be a well fead plantation. But if the soul is comfortable with its own perception of who u think u are than the soul grabs a nature of angle like prescience that tangles soul captivity in the entire moment of the present moment. The proscedure of soul removal of engagement in space convergence becomes a controlling facility for the fasciitis of life to gain an inspircal call for reflection of the idea known to control the boundaries of evolution in a mostly covered ego distribution machine. The gaining of protential watering of the fruit can be a nurturing experience although the ego itself is not a mechanism it is a freely driving power source for the mechanism in its own right to be controlled by the seen likeness of each flower of moment.

The inspiration and intakgallenbt leads to conclusion but the confrontation with disgust of someone else has to be agreeable to stop what ur doing. But the flow of interpretations continues to the likeness of building similar relations that have to except the possibility of perfection and ristriction of evil things like reflection and we’ll just plain torture.

The reflection patterns of a mirror realm being polluted with greed or a form or narcotic behaviour seem to be considerate of mutiple rectitude for nurturing, however the current position of natures will in this case seems to be flooding with multiple interpretations of similar maybe boring thoughts literaly sores of like dust scattered across the minds of our space full thinking, but than again the machine turns like a way of manipulation in some ego mtystical styles they look for gratitude and anything to get bigger although the literally believe… believing in anything but urself is a curse but yet it was only the truest of intentions to go there. The persuasion of thought to construct a smaller entity in a human must be the signs of a mistaken spirit. Or a reason for fortitude. Yet I have seen this screen play a thousand times over and yet I do believe the introspection garrantees a light that I have agreed to dispose of as a rupitious urge for self control and stimulation of the feeling better than someone feeling. But yet saying to people at someone else’s wedding I made their whole entire wedding about me and my girlfriend is probably wardable. This is confusing to the isolated who see everything as themselves considering they spent so much time in there heads. But considering I just went to a fucking wedding I can consider this thought being baffling. People are manipulative from towers above that seen to strike heavy on others who don’t have the guts to have a laugh over it. Yet this is the sight that I have been looked at for a while as if being sick or something being studied by something for not even having an ounce of what the current people in my quantum position where called to it seems as though there are such things as in humain or ridiculously against the rules of any future home I would share with a planet that we are all trying to lead to. I like the feeling of a recovery under the magic of a being that feels the need to shed light even in itself it it nessesary to control the weight of feeling at home all the time. The lessons are learnt throughout life and I guess the ability to well feel like u can like do something about anyone else is completely out obscured. The gaining of ultimate collection of soul and colour gathering to fuel a device strapped to ur heart is like the imitation also value configuratet of ur reality. Emotional stability constructs fortidtude inside the corner of ur eye. Motion itself is evolution. The motion of an objectivity relays its centers assigned to tasks strives for whether it is in control it is moving. When novelty arrives in the brain neurological gateways flood and pollute great deal of arousion around the 3rd dimension. Evolution is pollutional. And evolution becomes pollution when greater evolution views evolution as pollution. Upgrade ur spear would have been an old song deep in the roots of our time.

In a world of kill or be killed, when someone get's the jump on you you'll die a martyr to deciding you have a right to go to places where it is more likely to happen.

I want to heal diseases and I want sex, drugs and rock and roll. Shiva aum fuck yeah

My Dad yells a lot.

He yells at me. He yells at my niece, his granddaughter.

I try not to yell, because it doesn’t solve anything; it just builds the circuits in the brain responsible for anger.

Some people yell a LOT. I don’t think it improves their lives, like at all. It doesn’t make them more like able, or seem secure, or anything of merit.

Some yelling comes across through text. That’s even more pathetic, in my opinion. They literally cannot hear you, but you’re yelling in your head at a screen.

I’ve never really seen a situation resolved properly because someone needed to yell; maybe if they need help, and so yell to be heard, but otherwise: wasted effort.

I don’t think people are very introspective. They ruminate, but don’t reflect. It’s curious, but I don’t think the masses are getting better.

If you were dying mud, we would silently wash you until your mass had run down and trickled away; a Clean Escape.

But you have roots, and you wretch towards The Light like you could have nothing but. I can wash you, but I will become frail and uncertain; left away. Wanting.

The leaves crinkle and new seeds come to replace us, only as clean as your most cherished memory, a buzzing swarm.

This is a garden where even weeds can have an equal voice. Don't Trample.

Be Love; Be Free

. Basically the turn of the colour brings foreshadowing onto whatever stimulus u seem to be providing by always dependent on the quantum position u have with the universe. In this case earth can be very shit and it’s easy to deny but this is clear for a reason. A oaucholgists wedding Turning leaves and winding like snake trails of practisiious play like a game for the wicked apparently. But there is no game in my design. The fun for whatever u chose to create is the miracle of being human. And the designated stimulus set to a clear point. I married a psycjolgist when I was a young it felt like he could always agknowlege how beautiful I was because he was truly the best at what he did. But in the turning point for the facilitated hospitable oresence I was feeling it was almost like a turning point for the wicked until I noticed the holier for more colour in the documentation. The rising questions like more fire to burn in my belly what a thrill until it was drunk and off the the rest of the previous polorusation in the front seat of my car. But than again a human is a gift of whatever the user of the vessel is willing to create inside there own understanding of the nature they are surrounded by, but only the willing to acknowledge the signs of missunderstding is like the trail I leave behind Amongst my brothers. To be baffled is a complex miss manuever simply watching and using previous knowledge like a standing pint can be helpful understanding of seeing someone more clearly incase u couldn’t see the picture already. The stimulus itself is like a door way into perception simply by adding ur line of resolution creates a hospitable home for anyone welcome to come in. But understanding the weight of words is a more complex ideology that bases itself to the one meaning the persons truest intentions that are its souls compartment of reasoning. This compartment plays the truest of fashions to obsorb all ideology which in itself stands correctly upon a marking through space and time as a position on a for our sake a round planet. The marking directly inputs a creative burst of bistable format the chair will break if I kick it will it not, putting it back together makes the chair fixed but what if u could break some food in half to digest it slower and at a more pleasurable rate. This is the space that we know to be our home surely everyone’s understanding of the space is different but now that the conclusion comes we all seem to be leading in the same direction, escape. If the one true non believer accepts there wishes and grant them soul galxy transmutation they themselves will enter a new realm of understanding that configures there position in time to there own self that connects like a trail of family and connection to new positions in the quantum realm. If the user of this such mechanism called life we will be able to transcend any possibility simply by building a ship or going through a specific kind of gate way that enhances our speed and versatility for enhanced tools called senses. Ok I think I should take a break. But if senses are the then apparently the gateway than we should be able to adapt by directionally changing things like consumption and location and style of apoearance to create a new firtitude form the original source that than changes in the moment u ours used itself to do so. So changing Mother Nature is probably part of her best wishes if u consider her to be the mechanism for everything. Than u know that she will comply with what ever u want to do, however understanding her will to evolve is probably the most important considering these words are the trail of her long life presented through language and th me readers perception of the workd around them and the words.

Cathy came wearing her hair parted on the left side tonight. I wonder why as I step through the automated security checkpoint and enter our town's auditorium's preclearance waiting room.

Michael checks my credentials and, knowing that I am in fact myself, gives me a knowing nod. Sam does the same as he holds the door open for me and I finally step inside the central dining facility. Micheal had a bandaid on his hand from a fresh wound, I suppose. Sam looked like how Sam always looks.

I'm sporting my Friday suit, dressed for my certain usual success as always. Cargo camo pants, pleated with sharp creases. Hair slicked back. Grateful Dead t-shirt from a show they played in '87 when Jerry was still alive and kicking which I bought on Amazon for 29.99. Color slightly washed out from repeated launderings. The look.

Everyone seated in their assigned spots around the community table. Taking in each other's company and making deductions. Sam appears slightly downtrodden when he passes me the potatoes. Normally he has a pep in the step of his face when passing me the potatoes at 7:07. Seems like something may be weighing on his mind.

I smile at Sam, as always, and scoop my two scoops.

Cecilia shoots me her very Cecilia-like collaborator's winking grin. I purse my lip up ever-so-slightly on the right side to let her know that everything is as it should be.

The potatoes taste extra salty tonight. Must find out who bakes the potatoes before I leave the table this evening. Maybe Cecilia knows? Must remember to casually bring up taste of potatoes with notions of complimenting the chef in order to sus out said info. After the dinner, during the improvisational phase of the evening's games, of course.

Us townies finish our Friday course, say our Cathy-led grace, and leave in an orderly regimented manner. I fall in line behind Steve, who seems to be exuding a very uncharacteristic smell to tonight--new shampoo, perhaps?, and in front of Micheal, my man with quick trigger-finger, at my six providing the eyes-behind-my-back like I require him to do. Remeber to ask Michael if he thought the potatoes tasted of extra salt before the voting occurs this evening.

Cathy asks me if I ever heard the version of "Scarlett Begonias" they played at MSG in '73. I say "of course" and ask her about the potatoes. She thought they tasted the way they always taste on Friday game night. She opined thusly with a hint of evasiveness though, methinks. I pinch her ass and tell her to be careful out there tonight cuz I heard the boogieman is on the loose. I laugh to myself. "The Boogieman"--haahaaaaa!! And he requires blood sacrifices, booo!! Cathy looks as tasty as apple pie left out on the windowsill to cool like how momma used to make for us before the troubles began. Remember to spank Cathy extra hard tonight.

Did Sam pause before he told me he thought the potatoes tasted normal? Wonder what he had to think about...

I check my rifle at the door to the restroom and cross it's threshold. The piss clique looks up and all the boys say their hellos. I give them their orders. We file out one at a time at random intervals to avoid unwarranted prying eyes.

I have a wet spot on my camos I hope no one notices.

The adult constituency are mingling around the town's community bar room. A social requirement, democratically ordained, codified by writ of law. The improvisation portion winds up at the exact moment it always does.

Cathy's holding a mixed drink of unknown kind--maybe a screwdriver?? Cathy usually drinks wine Friday night game night. Unchilled. I take mental note.

Security guard Michael has removed his Band-Aid. Didn't get a quick enough of a glance to see what it was formerly covering. Effff.

My pants have mostly dried up when I spot Cecilia on the dancefloor, cutting it up, jiggly bits jiggling righteously without abandon. Hot af. I throw her a disapproving headshake/sneer. She knows more about the potatoes than she's letting on. I can read it on her expression. I know she knows from the way she holds her shoulders. The whole town sees it plain as day, too. I look behind me, wink at Michael as I cock my head in Sam's direction. Michael receives my message and blinks back at a weird time to signal back to me that the message was received. I burp and taste potatoes in the back of my throat. Very unusual.

I order Cathy a vodka screwdriver and throw her a questioning look on my face while shrugging whenever the bartender points over at me indicating to her that I'm the one who ordered her the drink. She smiles and gives me a thumbs up. Hints being tallied. Vodka screwdriver, intrigue concerning potatoes, suspicious wound care behavior--the puzzle is beginning to piece itself together before my very eyes. I barely even have to engage with any gameplay.

Cecilia has come back from the bathroom wearing a shirt with a mockup of Mr. Potato Head shaking his fist on it with a thought bubble coming from his mouth which reads, "It's "Doctor" Potato Head, asshole!!" I'm apoplectic. I attempt to redechypher my new reality but fail. My thoughts stall upon a second run at it and my awareness glitches. I come to my senses, reconfigure, and notice the first Michael for the third time. He's reBand-Aided himself.

Cathy asks me why my pants are wet. They were long dry at this point so it must have been a new wet spot. I told her someone knocked their drink over and it dripped on my pants. Someone's potato-based mixed drink, I casually add, trying to get a read on her reaction. She maintains her face's steely countenance, never registering my odd pointing out of the potato distilled nature of the conjured spilled drink.

I reach in my back pocket to see if my concealed snub nose is still securely holstered. I scan the trashcan to see if any discarded used Band-Aid remnants are located there. Think I saw one of the two little paper-like bits of plastic you remove when applying the bandage poking up from the rest of the garbage...but it may have been a tiny bit of paper. Remember to further investigate other areas where any Band-Aid/Band-Aid paraphernalia/potato/potato paraphernalia would most likely to be unceremoniously thrown aside by a lazy perpetrator.

Cecilia has busted out the Macarena. I smell French Fries wafting at me on a draft from an unseen area of the bar room. Sam looks at me like I'm crazy when I ask him if he brought enough ketchup for the rest of the class. He's up to something.

When your Ego substitutes having spiritual knowledge for applying that spiritual knowledge, you end up with an insufferable arrogance masquerading as a genuine personality.

If smart, then teach. If stupid, then learn.

Some people have a mystical experience, but they don’t integrate it. At most, they hide from it, fearing insanity. Sometimes they just criticize everyone else, as if they alone had the genuine article.

It’s easy to fall of the Path, by assuming that you reached the end somehow, that you don’t need to grow daily.

I assumed everyone was growing daily, but this is not so. People reach a point and then revel in their supposed mastery; never really continuing the tradition of progress, but retreating into delusions of grandeur.

People really think they have unique opinions on a matter, that what they suggest hasn’t been thought of or tried before.

Some things went unrecorded; doesn’t mean they’re new, merely new to you.

And you are nothing special, just another in a long line of people contributing to the dialectic. Thesis, antithesis, then synthesis, ad infinitum.

A lot of people hoist confusing assumptions upon me, as if I’m out to get them, or have personal grudges against them, or whatever.

I only really recognize general trends. Usually, I don’t even seek to comment, because it never goes anywhere.

The idea that all you need is an airtight reasonable argument to snap someone out of their delusional misery is just mythology. Idiots will drag you down to their level and beat you with experience.

The problem with judging idiots is that, at any time, YOU could be the idiot you’re judging. No one has all the facts about a situation, and so everyone speaks from a level of ignorance.

Secondule linguishual megaohormant ishallcall bendiriph forshalgorrica dicoricanumber. Ishall benforganshua bicall sent ona shallgon twistoo gor manneyy her wishal forsolidification it is. Sighbin for shall call lists reason over judgmental fascicallation andore pressure for fast driving. Scisure mellbellsighn well call number for pleasant arrival to single minded of multiple perceotion. Fixalbenshare for call entricals discipit reasoning for a tedious discussion. Beshure of maknier ellisights gold alchemy blood for multi coloured transfusion of pleasure for eye, so u agree?

Sylable underatdning is carved into a great field of short speak yet expanded on paper into a multi coloured language. The colour of the words which is represented through themes of pre mentioned culture is a gateway to realisation of new speaking which constructs more advanced topics of discovery through the bouncing and free range of combining multiple cultural sounds mixing into any pit u like askong as u correctly articulate the work itself, which is brought into the fact of self inderstanding and self learning and seeing what ever u think of the words which we can surely agree is unique, for everyone.

The cosmic calling entered yet another blow to the brain deflected simply by impulse of compartment analysis yet again it is abandonment and torture on the thrown and the longing of trying to fix something gone broke for another time I wish people would understand but apparently there to competitive. Which means most likely they feed there intestines with lovely bottles of wine to fill my gross missundertandment of self deposition only to clap for her great miss dead and implosion on the right side of the market. But still nothing is of this place there is no growth not even a single glance that makes me feel like writing changes things it’s done it’s drunk. How tho is the real question and the answer has to be some sort of a simulated field of personas growing from nothing only to be sent with a mission from the outer rim that’s said mission perhaps written in stone along time ago but I believe if it could be changed into a dream it would be respected and never brought back again. I wil not take this stupid experience to heart it is done I feel like this life is jsuy to eventually bury me in a field of it self. Only to wake up potentially with the other but if they are not there I wil be the pure endoldged picture of hatred.

Vial conspiracy leads to dominion of the souls escape from the reality dream based scenario that seems to unfold as if u weren’t even part of it urself but everyone around u has lived it for some reason u just can’t get there urself. But if it doesn’t I suppose it must be some sort of system in play to gsrrantee some sort of ourchased ticket to ride that includes evaluation and crippling if a manner that is currently the actual being itself. Nothing really changes in the being but the exposure of heart seems to mislead communication above for the second time indoldged in mannuear and critic investment into destabilizing the intelligence of being one’s self. This cannot be misjudged this is an angel this has been kicked into the dirt and molded by our own perception of reality but it still happens and I don’t care so hey should u, but then again how are we supposed to come to agreement. I wonder if the fortitude is strong enough. No one knows. But it doesn’t matter cause that being has been crushed and will now face a huge time of threats to humanity th glimpse of pure regardlessness for spirit and heart. Which appears in everything apparently, and is the single reason why these words are written. If anything happens to my poor boy again I’ll fuckin hammer a gubtling. But as seen in the effect range there is nothing that can stop the minstrocity of evaluation except for the drunk realisation that nothing itself matters. And if that something had come into play then I know the lesson itself had been learnt. From experience. But if the message of this person be corrupt with godly fire from above then I don’t see the point i hammering we are defeated in our own resource by the hands of evil powers they win and we will shine like gems for the taken and loved until we are overly competed and lose to the masses of ego distribution and manipulation. Which is a part of like misleading the information set in stone for a bar of soap. But what is the psychologist anyway besides an evaluator of self. Hear comes conclusion. The self is a garrantee that space will confine the bondries of man for the intrigued intention of looking at others the same way u perceived ur own ideology it’s a friendly btw. Which is why I but nurturing the ego like a fire using the write methods to contain and feed nutrients from heavenly powers of the artists standing point, here. But how does one farrantee a ticket if the position of the train is misaligned and not accepted this part of the displacement of agknowleged driving. But than again the stimulus was tight. The tightened spaces of alignment that confine the bounded of space time are ever expanding the hope that someone else sees the misseads and sooralities of hiding a nature means the extinction shall make us reach a collective point anyway one discusion one agreement we are one and everything is fun as long as one of the deities or gods amounts us enjoy it.

Hi. I am working in an industry that basically profits off of sexuality. The most interesting thing I have learned is that those who are most aligned with their own sexuality are the ones who make the most profit.

Here's how I look at it: Feminine sexual energy is like a basket, and masculine sexual energy is like a berry. Every time masculine sexual energy is released, a berry goes into the feminine basket. Now we all know reality is much more than just the physical world. Even if no direct currency is exchanged, the feminine receives and receives more masculine energy. This can potentially lead to negative and dangerous side effects, so I recommend daily cleansing rituals for all involved in the feminine receiving end.

As above, so below. As the feminine receives more and more masculine energy, it eventually precipitates into the physical world. This can take many forms. Money, children, fruit. For me in my line of work, money is the main goal. We are transmuting cum into cash.

This works well. People in the past have attempted it, but before the internet the scale just wasn't there, and the feminine was limited in a lot of ways by the physical word. Now we can break past those barriers into somewhat of a new frontier. Where this will take us, not really sure. But so far it has been an interesting story.

For nearly 11 months, I have been functioning with a fully synthetic endocrine system.

For nearly 11 months, my sex hormones have been replaced with technology. Isn't that crazy? The sex hormones in my body are manufactured in an industrial setting. In that time, I have become a cyborg, at the level of molecular biology. My body has been quite visibly altered as a result. I would go as far as to say I seem to have a completely new body; HRT has proven very effective for me. I'm happy with the results. I've augmented myself with technology. This rules.

Further reading:

A Cyborg Manifesto, by Donna Haraway

Gender Acceleration: A Blackpaper, by n1x

Back to study, back to isolation.

It’s not enough to have good ideas. You must be convincing.

And I don’t want to convince anyone of anything, really. That attachment has faded.

When you stop taking challenges, you stop living. It has become a challenge to focus on study, and so I will continue.

Sometimes folks have things that make them feel like burn victims- anything pressed against it hurts like fuck. I'm absolutely guilty of hyperreacting in that case. Usually I'll get past the emotions and consider the words after.

I think in my case it happens when I feel like my effort or trauma is diminished. I only escaped the cult life like five years ago. It's been like learning a new language- an entirely different culture. I'm proud of how far I've come but I'm frustrated by how long it's taking to not feel alienated....otherly. Then it pisses me off when someone gives advice that seems simple to me because shit is overwhelmingly complicated. Usually the simple advice is right in some ways though. It, however, doesn't cure or change the facts.

Go outside. Eat well. Sleep. Shower. Those things help me a lot. They do. I enjoy them too. They don't change my internal status in a total way though. Working through things, learning to trust my ability to feel and not go crazy, learning to let it all be...those invoke great change. They also take longer. I'm extremely patient but not with myself.

I'm in a much better place mentally and emotionally but I'm not perfect. I feel the jealousy of unrequited love...I get frustrated with my kid...I avoid my bio fam and Facebook because it gives me anxiety...I flake if I'm overwhelmed.

I'm trying. Sometimes in order to "do or do not" you have to fucking try first, you green frog bastard.

I break unbroken wings
everything I do stings
I atomize complete things
down to unlinked smithereens
I'm the postman who never rings
I knock once before knuckles swing
a quiet riot who loudly sings
I yell "Fire!" in a theater packed, no-room-seating
I unwind g-strings
I serve poisoned dumplings to orotund kings
I change seedlings into playthings
I'll turn a housewife into a homecoming

I ain't in no writing mood today, God. I got a squiggen of caffeine, a couple puffs of roaches that Byoomth did tidy upon in his leisurely stroll, and I have brought myself from Stage 1 to Stage 3a in lung cancer in just one day by scraping the pound of resin in my bowl. Whatevs. I'm just trying to make it through every day.

I look inwards a lot. I see where I'm lacking, where I'm slacking, and I see all the failings that make me, me. I've said a number of times over the years that I went tall not wide; in reference to opposing strategies in the Civilization series, where tall is having a few big cities and wide is having a lot of smaller cities. I'm damn good at what I do, but I don't do much.

Hmmm…I'm split on my opinion of my own self. On one hand, I'm like, “Uh…you see the brain God gave me?” I ain't meant to be on my own in this world. I don't…I can't navigate in a sensible way when everyday I'm flipped, flopped, and flung in every God damn direction. But then I'm like, “I shouldn't give in to the notion that I'm a victim.” No matter what hand I'm dealt, I can always play my best, regardless of the outcome.

And that's hard sometimes. I'm only human. I got a real squishy side to me. So, I am in the water, swimming as I do, and the waves carry me where they may. I might not end up at the island whose shores I was aiming at, but I get somewhere, and sometimes just being somewhere is enough. I gotta really tell myself that; not beat myself up as much.

There's a time to build up, and a time to tear down. Fly like you got the cape in Super Mario World.

The timbale essence corner coped sign rancher has been demolished in argon appearance to be what seemed to me like a pickle of hopeful relations ions with other. the reason we don’t have collinwaggle is because of the trickled eye stanza yeti forestal fluoridation of domestic abuse. Poor guy or girl honestly what’s the difference besides the butter of each of our worlds. Whether the point of life is to potentialise agreeable momentum fruschianting across a palatable lounge is to like a waddle no more than a spring car into a directional applause. Ignored for here’s sake. F the fun off u stupid prick ports calling the ships are in banagharnge polarised for the second emotional outburst of the 21st secondary school award goes to my ex who I truly miss and also my fucking mother. Literally kicks ball stand on it and see where u sit its like whoahhh fuck I just kicked a ball and now im standing on it hey everyone look at me im standing on a ball. Seriously new ,ehcnism for sure but done egologodiction destroyed unless ignored foreshadow don’t mention it just remember its there so again when witnessed treat with some sort of empty respect and watch it glow much pleasing to inner eye but big pop come to child seriously I fead like 25 of children pop its was fucking great to watch them try fight it too cause it doesn’t fuking matter so lost anyway why don’t we just go have a frusintomore driving cordallice writhe carrot calling toreio0p so we can wrap a tripendese one right now hahahah its funny maybe im ultra sick but fuck me that shit fucking smells so fucking good when it hits ya

Back to the reason I don t have a wife.. I would like to poltriwhiptowor bellenatble fruschiklemintable to the interigon of a second grackle that cries like a screaming whip.. but we know we are the same. So how to dare I say ego be so god damn beautiful. I wish mine was so defused and drunk like a suicidal mechanism ready to get another bounce back from inspiration dirconwellonball driven see car likewendo xenion oclopto more he rental bema like which cissy like winter I n fu r t like ehtd aye hey is hf laikfhg t and puff. Again I have no idea.

Beezlewahck the tordians to create a polefurthrough corcuch matter spinning one hit ball smash to enter such a realm. If only the truth were more appicalliotic than the rise of dna sample rate batten machines would serve as great in tenders for betroot. But the beetroot rot was only given the sample of the previous intended if such a growth factor that it decided to place multiple syncopates for its dissipational creation. The not thing that stops this from happening is a giant stimulus over rectors from the corner of the eye ball face smash a try natural read lol is sonic boom in the triple side of the album. This means that cornered effect will create a light so dim it will have to crucible the yeti over drawn to its vascular deity until it is drunk and a mess. Until the universe lifts it off its feet it will be nothing but a por ice puck begging for a fire like alchemy to a grown ape. For the purpose of recommending to completely assemblies I have garrantweex access to a whole new realm of possibility that connects to for gotten streamers from the popular alchemical bond of trouble fantasy over drawn darkening which will door u to ur stand point and open up the world to ur inner most fears only this way will u achieve they say but only this way u will have had a life. I say the opiate as one who is drunk and slow and pathetically lonely say that I wish my life is full to be richess but that is narcotic to the self only to bury shame on the brother who wipes it from his face. But how long. An u polerise ur own brother until u give them so much money that they literally look like little five year olds dancing around a round fire until they are satisfied. Have the children some dinner I say for we are not the same… Frequent melentalling will create a noshcsrd of bureied happening for crackled splansih that encourages ultimate design of future desire the killing of one’s soul will replenish goldinmentum to the origin of the carrier. Time for rebirth of direction mal observation from a carrier we have the critters interpretation of a killing or besides be some port of sunk or done do down sick liker man which lends its arms to the door potentate of intense bound drainage that corresses itself with large sympathic fingers only the drunk can survive as an artist I think. Like a berried freedome from the clutches off the end of the sppacked max rich person that pollutes discovery of no one. Where ever the entrance of the person arrives it could be shut down from side to side forever and I guess I just drink shit for the rest of my life to feel better about the crackled hill out of life that is me of course infrequent endoldgmebt in silk layering can not be ok but to describe the sound of it would be like this fuck end all pain marry me.

Triple Horgan toward the empire tower of gorgantua to express the highest of ur lowest driving mechanistic ballander tuth fire open splendid darling do the one best of ver the two field meaning u are connected with the power of autism. Which is notified connecting singular entities from dimensional outer rink fields of direction and speed to intrigue life like a quivering solo Stratononestrer the only way that enter there fields of fighting the scariest connection to go is by cracking the carrier until the ship has ported to jackson star field industries one of many that sit in a fucking field of life that is so over Estonian to the realisation that people have found one connection to realising new after life with rubber valve central’s that’s are existing on space like fruquncies more just different vibrations created though from the one single entity that created all of existence pretty gnarly for dude ye for sure. Only the pleasure centers of the brain on this level of evolution are active considering the reason ing for gaining upset best is to see what it feels like for pleasure. Rev ur engines boys and girls. More people join into a direction singular virtex boot system reincarnation design stem pocketed progress machine captured water tank furtalised in technology which is the one reason a pole is like a god to me. Honestly I don’t this after too much tequila

Tripping up on a ray vector machine would be great to rehabilitate the broken spirit is of the realm earth hosted how does one drink such filthy vial lanterns in order to pay for money and shit like a pig. But doesn’t having less high make u a better writer idk Man U tell me. Octopus ventricals Crete ea thick cast pocket for more intricate waves of appreciation like little shamans of the sea. This means that the two of the hosted valiant ships decked will most likely be piled to the rim with these nasty fuckers. Isn’t that a sober thought or if I ever came down I’d be like a fucjin beatin up Gary from SpongeBob or idk beaten off maybe while driving my car the Mach 4 down from inland to upsiturbsy cracked machines vege mutt scam.

home. If only the way to bend time capsule entrance of discovery that leads to the abolishment of reading text to create a home that is suitable for one’s likeness that I’m sure it will gain an appreciation from other. But no it’s not about the reflection it’s about the now and the now says it’s totally insured the power of something that is not u yet is controlled and witnessed as a version of u that is being totally obscured considering how well a man can drink after a wedding in the passenger seat of his car.

The wellness of fortitude and stability lies in two people connecting with one another liking someone and then liking u back requires an interconnection of thoughts and ideologies that get mixed up in both of there cause and effect for reality meaning the longer u spend time with someone the more Alike and terms u come to agree apon that being said.. the more you like each other means that ur brains are molding towards a connection an agreement which means one thought simply if it possible to connect with someone in a decision then it is definite that the earth can be all one aswell, u kno what I mean. And if two people can exchange ideologies that go from one brain to another even by speaking it is the senses that connect our inner to the iutter if these senses are connected than the brain and inner is also a relative source we speak to each other and the idea of senses being developed means the brain is the mechanism behind these senses and if the senses of two entities align to an agreement it means they both share the same thing. Thinking u can go against something all the time is impossible can bantering u agree that what u do for a hobby interests u, this connection of agreeance turns into one entity the thought it self like u have both invented a sword in ur back yard. But the senses even being connected is simply because we are an expression of our brain that is constantly evolving new ways to sense building connection and one ness with people is a value if u wish to evolve the human race. Language is the tool and the inner is the eye. The singularity the inner eye would be morphed into one at some point whether humans have really only been around for this or so years I believe senses are a sign that we the outer are connected innward aswell, agreed. Whether shunned hated or disagreeabley lied or hidden. It’s like how the earth is surrounded by this one space this empty nothingness yet something that holds us if u can connect with the inner space that holds our senses than u would understand that no one is the term used for someone who is truely connected to the source of everything.

If she slams. Don't believe a word she said. Fuck her if she wants to. Just don't let your feelings in. Kick her out of your bed. Because she already planned ahead To steal and lie and fuck the next She's the dumbest they all said They are right, fuck it Goodnight

Hyperbolic language is not a bad thing.

A lot of times it is treated as such. This is usually to dismiss the claims made, which is a casual and subtle misdirection from Truth.

All of human knowledge is built on metaphor, on connecting two seemingly disparate facts and converging on a higher Truth revealed by their similarity. By dropping the “like” or “as” which is found in basic simile, the person’s brain is forced to focus on the connection as if it had actual existence.

The extreme nature of hyperbole is to emphasize the importance of dealing with the situation the hyperbole references. Without exaggeration, the person can simply persist as they were as if they had not been informed at all.

Without hyperbole, our emotions would not be inflamed; without being roused by our greater emotions, our rationality will dismiss the threat, and it will compound.

It is shockingly easy to rationalize any condition, even if it is worsening over time. This is especially true if the worsening is only ever minor; like the parable of the frogs not leaping out of a slowly boiling pot, we acclimate to the situation, until it is entirely too late to change.

We can all do better. Lounging around in self-pity, deflecting all criticism: that’s no way to live.