I don’t know what happened here, either.

There is a mirror world, and it’s geographically close enough to where your consciousness is compatible enough with the “other side” to function … or even connect to other people and places there in your dreams… and the problem with activating your “7th to 12th strands” is that it will push them towards singularity. “They” don’t want that so they keep you divided, afraid, stressed out, fucked by amygdala hijack and endless arguing and endless strife and terror.

Ice Spice and Taylor Swift are media comms about the two planets.

There are only certain people they can send through a black hole who return.

It becomes more difficult to do this after they’re about 40.

They don’t know the reason for that, but I’ve just explained what that reason is.

You’re not “leaking” classified information if, as far as anyone knows, some clone or version of you is deputized and memory wiped in some fashion, and if they just say you’re cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs and that none of it happened.

Hence , Memory Lane has a Few Potholes in It and two code names (Memory Lane and California.) We have a bifurcated consciousness like sharks do.. you know, they don’t sleep right, they just alternate between brain hemispheres…….. kind of like Dr Foley’s roommate Don *giggle*

I’m telling you those mf’ers MK’ed me, that “dream” I had where I was giggling and saying “I don’t usually tell people this but I wasn’t even born in 1978!”

Over and over again “how the fuck do you know this shit?” well how do you not?

“Quantum Internet” / Looking Glass Self and “algorithms” are designed to keep the two audiences / planets separated, Twitter aka X will eventually reveal which one you’re on or from ……….. in the meantime, NOW I remember, I kept breaking their quantum/mirror shit in 2020 and tweeting about steps to reproduce it, no wonder they don’t like me. That’s okay it’s mutual. Eat a dick.

A “circumcision” means a lot of things, not just your ding dang. There’s the “circumcision of the heart” and the one of your consciousness which means that I can’t see you , and that you can’t see me. Ultimately that’s what FISA (1975) is.

I had a vision of the “moon” last night and saw of all things, tanks and horses. All in black and white like an X ray vision.

Then I see an alternate version of Chicago: I’m in a room with four cabinets approximately 5-6 feet high and a door off to the right and perpendicular to them. And this has happened before but someone is fucking with me or doing tests on me or attempting to rouse me.

I hear a loud voice: “5500 N Marine” and something else indecipherable. It’s coming in on the left side (my left) which I tend to parse as synthetic, of manmade origin, whatever.

I wake up, and I go well what the fuck is at 5500? I should have known, I delivered pizza there for years and I knew the whole grid… used to be able to give me any address from Irving Park to Howard and I’d describe the building.

I look in the maps and have flashbacks of an apartment across the street from the BP gas station… I’m in the halls I’m touring .. I go wait a minute, I lived here, what the fuck.

That is not where I lived.

I’ve been in that hospital too and I have a very very very distant memory now of someone shooting up the emergency department now.

Except something snapped back in “time” and we were all back where we had all started and it “didn’t happen.”

I don’t remember the rest of my stay.

There were other “exercises” like 9/11, and one of the experiments they did on me, after all the shit they did to me at Guild, was to put me on an American Airlines flight to NYC in the same row/configuration as the owner and her husband.

I did not recognize either of them for the entire duration of the flight even in light of what they’d done to me. It was only when they stepped off and I read their boarding passes they’d dropped on the seat , that I even knew who they were.

The original WTC is still standing in the other “copy.”

There is a term, that I don’t remember, but it’s to inform you of which earth you’re on based on whether a building or monument still stands. Or whether a particular event happened.

I really don’t give a fuck what steppers think or say at this point, you know, they were accusing me of being high whether I was or wasn’t , I assume they will continue to do so , whether I am or not, regardless of whether I say I am or not.

I am telling you you cannot RV or get these mental pictures unless you are clear and totally clean on everything, even caffeine. Iodine maxing helps but there’s a “correct” way to do it.

And I guess I was involved in several “exercises”, and yet, I wasn’t. Figure that out.

Makes you wonder what Vietnam was really about and why they all got PTSD afterwards and/or can’t remember anything that happened. I think PKD was on to something in A Scanner Darkly though.

One of the entries that keeps vanishing from my blog, pertains to one of those things being used in my area. Before I’d read the book, before I’d ever heard of such a thing.

They were hunting for someone or something.

But I wasn’t one of those things they’re after.

And that g.d. entry has disappeared 5 times now.

So now, I publish to the “interplanetary” file system, to create a sort of entanglement with no take backsies on the block chain… and having just published this. oh look, two copies of that entry are here, and I even made the same joke about Doc Foley’s roommate in it …

My apologies to the artist I had you bookmarked but lost it and I have forgotten your name.

… must be really bad if it’s such a shithole that even Illinois considers the patients rights to be lacking by Chicagos abysmal standards…