08.09 So that’s why they (Baddies) give me pain… Cause they “have” no Time. But.. But.. Time has no problem to be “mine” issue after issue… So… Fuck the hell off!

? Notawoman (EMperoar)


Making thunder Golden not

The elders know

Lab coat

Long black hair

Imparateasa viselor sparte pretuita ca si cum ar fi “a cerurilor” desi nu are nici macar pamant (timp)… Hmmm… O aripa franta de avion si o Laura care n-are ce face. Deseneaza prostii dupa ce-si aminteste din Biserica si blabberings. #prophecies from a REAL PSY~Chic grrrl…

I was thinking somehow about what happens Backstage in the Tarot IV – V & The lies that should’ve been (will be?) XXI… So 4, 5, 21(!) All Tarot is fun 4 Plutonians like me (joke)

Pana si compasul e cu cracii in sus (Joker laughter)


Cine e?

Cand simt furnicaturi ~ intense in dreptul fundului? ~ Ma simt ciudat ~ tot felul de idei. Dar parca nimic nu are rost. Romanescul IDEI rimeaza doar cu Englezescul DELAY (?) ~ nu cu viata sau cel putin ce simt eu ca inseamna sa traiesti. Viziuni ciudate dar vad despletirea lor in prezent; si daca ma gandesc mai bine, nu difera f. mult de trecutul pe care am invatat sa il vad cumva cu alti ochi. Deci… Ce se intampla? Cum? De ce? Risipa… Nimic cu adevarat concret. Concretul e ceva despre care mai multe tabere * (genetix) au ceva de spus; Dar; inca visez, visul altcuiva; chiar si daca are elemente din presupusa mea realitate… Deci, inca nu stiu ce e concret cu adevarat dar multi din * gresesc / se inseala. Si nu imi place [I do not consent] sa fac parte din schemele lor ciudate, oricat de interesante ar fi unele chestii de digerat ({! Thanks 4 teh books!}). Ma simt (prea) singura ~ prea NEsingura d.p.d.v. al ~ minte internet idei ziduri manipulare furt “Dans”? Nu. Cacofonie.

Why do I do what I do? ” [quotation marks] ~ interesting concept; but I feel as if I’m moving farther & farther away from myself. Oh. Venting: Close nearby; Hell calculus is making my (perceived reality through) senses grow bitter (sweet sour pain) every day. Smirk smirk *pukes*. I have no one to really talk to – looks at toes. Oh my. What they did to us lately… My monkey self jumps to the ceiling and morphs into a gecko~like reptile then becomes invisible ~ can’t catch me ~ won’t touch me. Not you, dear Journal; the weirdos who keep on reloading us into these weird ways ~ I feel as if no genuine play possible ~ SUPERvised {visor, visier, dreams, dust} by freacko’s. Smh.

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