Lynae Vanee (allegedly), hey! Do you jezebels get jealous when I shout-out separate spectators? Well, I wonder what would make women work against a wise, worthwhile writer? The opps are obviously obsessed with me, and it’s straightforwardly some of the saddest shit I’ve suffered through. Over the years, as I’ve painstakingly pushed to protect my privacy, several sneaky and suspicious skanks have seemingly been sent to seduce, secretly surveil, and somehow stop me from succeeding in shutting shit down. For example, approximately nine years ago, I was standing on a sidewalk somewhere in the sweet streets of Atlanta, and an attractive assumed agent approached me. Honestly, like five different damsels seemed desperate for the dude that day, so I guess I was giving off a vibrant vibe. But the flirty female Fed or flunky fumbled her façade by asking me quirky question. I told this somewhat superficial story a short while back, and a new spiritual speaker showed up on my timeline shortly after. Now, I only had a brief exchange with the pretty presumed police person, but I remember that she resembled this spiritual speaker. That’s either a doppelgänger or the actual agent or acolyte. If you’re empathetic or eagle-eyed, you can see the sadness on her face, right? It seems like she knows something. Again, posing in pink and/or with peace signs—because fuchsia is my favorite color and “peace” was previously a popular part of my posts—is a silent signification of support that some sympathizers show. With that, maybe Mona ain’t mad, huh? Nevertheless, as chaos and confusion are the country’s most crooked cops’ go-to when gaslighting, persuading the petty and puerile participants of their pitiful plot to put on pink and to pose with the peace sign as they allusively attack and subliminally slight me is a perpetuated practice of theirs. For the record, I’ll lose my life before I let you losers and lowlifes lead it. And I’ll let this go as soon as my goals are gained! Imagine imagining that imitating me without my immense intelligence—believing that you could be me without my brain—will send you soaring toward success by simply saying shit that I’ve said. Do you know how I know y’all are stupid? To repeat, it’s because you don’t know that you’re stupid! Offending objectors who operate with the objective to oppress and overrule me isn’t regrettable. And if you kill your motherfuckin’ selves, my affronts won’t affect you. Y’all, I’m normally a nice person. Like I said, I rarely even raise my voice. Still, stupid shit seldom sits right with me, and stupid people shouldn’t see themselves as smart—it’s why the world is withering and wasting away. Moving on, am I fueling the fuck-ass Feds’ giant gaslight by assuming that some of the actresses and artists alluding to me aren’t aware of all that the assholes in authority are aiming to accomplish? Diamond White, Christina Milian, and Sanaa Lathan (allegedly) are among the newest notable names that I’ve noticed have nestled next to the nation’s nuttiest nutjobs. Just so y’all know, your witching and wizardry won’t work, you’re creating witnesses that will work against your aim, my mind is made up and I’m mad as a motherfucker, and saying it again, I won’t stop until I’m satisfied. Janelle Monae (allegedly), I knew your recent raunchy and risqué routine wouldn’t win you a wider audience. And I’m sure that the weak-ass weirdos warned you of what I wrote because this lookalike was one of the first they forced to my feed. As a fan of yours from the beginning, I really respected your boundless beauty because I never saw your booty. Still, I see how suppressing your sexuality for so long seemed stifling. Listen, opinions are like opportunities—they aren’t always awesome. And being berated and bombarded with bullshit by bitch-ass birdbrains and basic-ass bitches substantiates my stance that everybody’s stupid. Personally, I don’t give a fuck about people or their perspectives. And to prove it, I’m about to prove it! Soon…
Omniscience