What is it to feel like no one understands you?
There’s nothing new about torture. There’s nothing new about the need to control. There’s nothing new about an oppressor and a victim. 74 years ago a population the size of Phuket got vaporized because the USA wanted to send a message. Japan heard it loud and clear. American Pie, Human pyramids, Ewen Cameron’s electric “miracle,” Collateral damage. The CIA treats contingency plans like heroin: there’s never enough but they would bleed dry without them. They’re always on borrowed time. Evil people don’t play fair. They balance accounts: if things don’t add up, they lie and blame you instead.
Cointelpro never stopped. Have you figured out that you’ve been unofficially initiated into the new Black Panthers? Huey P. Newton no longer has a race, he’s middle-class, he refuses vaccines, he asks “serious” questions, he reserves his opinion until he’s probed for truth, he’s empathetic.
You are now the new enemy of the state.
It is now a crime to doubt what is force-fed to you as truth. There are no alternatives. You will sit under Boaz or Jachin. You are a primitive animal that needs to be neutered. You will watch the football on Sunday, your mind will fill with false emotion when the team we ritually chose won. You will honor our hierarchy. Kevin Spacey will smile at you, and you will smile back. Kevin would eat your newborn for brunch, you will never know about that. You will be notified when you can think an original thought. You will censor it in your quiet moments. We will package it and resell it through Amazon, but only when all the life has been extracted.
Pain is relative. We live in a world where the worth of a human can be measured in eulogies, car accidents, “Likes,” ass-implants, and the purple pickle emoticon. Life has a used by date. Unfortunately, the machine has decided that you’re not worth the expense. The symphony of humanity is Drake caressing a minor. To be conservative is to follow a tradition when it works. Liberalism is a pimp who takes Truth, beats it senseless and barters it to the desperate. You have been rejected form the party for wearing the clothes of your ancestors. Greta doesn’t like that you drink from a plastic cup. The other guests are glued together with embalming fluid. You are leaving the Danse Macabre. Your heart still pumps the lifeblood of the past. Intuition has kept your soul intact like a newborn. It protected you from the world.
You drift into an abandoned part of town. You discover a dive bar named “Instinct.” A 40-year-old heathen with a receding hairline is screaming into a microphone. He howls forcefully like a wolf. He’s balancing on a tightrope between delusion and truth. Only the wild attend. There is no WIFI. They stare into each other’s eyes firmly when speaking. They cut their teeth on respect and tradition. Confrontation is a ritual. The rules are unspoken and are learned from mistakes. Their legs are spread. Is this chaos? This is the real you. Before your soul decorated itself in a shell called identity. Your blood pumped iron and steel. You castrated yourself for a shadow on the wall. You were original. Self-censorship is a mind virus. Don’t think! Remember when your decisions were synchronous with your environment. God designed you to be perfect like a Hawk. Do Hawks fear? We were apex predators. Now we can hardly breathe without Siri’s assistance. To live is to remember to be in the driver’s seat. Your keys to freedom are your birthright. Use your gut like a compass that will take you to the sun of the living. Do not succumb to shame. Ignore the preachers of self-righteousness, they hide their agendas.
You are sovereign
Be wary of those who adorn themselves in false piety. The wicked will appear as Angels. Christ will be spat on and shunned. Avoid the vortex of political correctness. Do not abandon yourself when your fuel tank is empty. Your duty is to bring in the New World. It starts with the targeted individual. The future of the planet is dependent on YOUR TIMELINE. You are the new Atlas. You carry the earth on your back. Uncreate your false self. Mediocrity is a tumor to your sovereignty. You can never turn back. The world has been assigned a template. The machine has crafted its personality from a web of human placeholders. Most people have quietly accepted bondage; their highest achievement will be a prison warden. You have a chance to change everything. The whole universe is kindly waiting for you to remember your power. Jupiter has been probing your heart. The central sun wants you to stop playing make-believe. Get naked. Remove your costume you call personality.
Trust no one but your inner voice. The noise will try to drown it out. Scream until Odin hears you in Valhalla. The world refuses to take Artificial Intelligence seriously because they’re waiting for the robots to cook for them and grab them a beer. By then it’s too late. To be targeted is the AI saying it cannot replicate you. It has claimed ownership over all of humanity. You were always original. The machine cannot own you.