“You ain’t solid, ain’t valid, you ain’t Malice. Been quiet, ain’t riot, you ain’t Paris. Blow money, you owe money, we ain’t balanced. You ain’t believe, God did, you ain’t Khaled.” If I didn’t know any better… First, if you believe that “darknesses” deux ever sold cocaine, you’re smoking crack! Second, again, I’m not a rapper, I’m a revolutionary. Last, y’all got me fucked up! If y’all can’t say my name, shut the fuck up about me, period! The country’s most crooked cops are craving to cover up this conspiracy, and every consenting co-conspirator is complicit. Yes, that means you mealy-ass, meddling-ass motherfuckers. What are the Satanists saying? Is it that they’re violating my rights and pushing me near the verge of violence to give me a voice? Or that they’re trying to break me down to build me up? I’m curious about what would cause complete strangers to conjure the courage to come for someone who couldn’t care less about them. Feel free to fill me in, but I’ll get to that in another post. Anyhoo, I’m being spammed with subliminal snubs and slights throughout social media. And if I weren’t built differently, this “death magic” would definitely have had the desired effect. The Feds have been following and fucking with me forever—long enough for their lingering to have a lasting effect on my life. With that, it happened again. I went to CVS, and another orchestrated operation occurred. I’ll spare y’all the details, but I was just letting them know that I know. One of the tired terrible tactics that they’re using to trigger me is perpetuating the preposterous idea that by being powerful and prolific, I’m pretending to be this punk-ass, pea-brained, puerile, pathetic person from my past. Again, I can’t even browse social media without being bombarded with bullshit that’s devised to distract, disturb, and derange me. To give you a picture of this procedure to provoke a psychotic break, picture the definition of insanity incarnate, as they’re doing the same stupid shit over and over and expecting me to stop being smart. So, since the sadistic shit show starters and their sideshow acts are still stuck on stupid shit, I’ll make sure to show the spectators how sane I am by substantiating everything I’ve been saying. Now, this stupid-ass nigga is lucky that I let go of the fully-loaded cache of clips I was conserving from this crazed confrontation over exclamation points. Maturity will make you move on, but it is what it is at this point. Long story short, this rude and ridiculous relative moved into the residence where I regularly rested my head and didn’t respect me. By the way, the Feds were already “secretly” surveilling me even then, and they know that I’m telling the truth. This guy is ignorant, institutionalized, insecure, and only intelligent in his imagination. Honestly, this isn’t hatred, it’s honesty. What’s more, I’ve never known a dude who’s more delusional and destructive. Truth be told, I had my car parked in the garage, and he had his raggedy-ass car was parked right outside the garage—blocking me from exiting it. The day before the blow-up, I told this toxic temper-tantrum thrower that I missed an appointment because his busted, broken down beater was blocking me in. I politely requested for him to leave the key so I could move his car, pull my car out, and move his car back when I returned. Having dealt with this degenerate before, I know that he’s the type to not respond rightfully to requests because being told what to do makes him feel like a bitch—regardless of how respectful the requester is. When I saw that his car was still in the way, I admit that I felt some type of way before I texted him this. Remember, the underlined words are links—mostly to Google Drive. Now, if you know me, if I’m not paying attention to punctuation and grammar, or just letting the auto-correct do its thing, I’m annoyed as a motherfucker. Still, I was calm, collected, and cool. He pulled up, parked, and began storming toward the door. The Ring camera went off, and when I saw him frowning, I met him at the door trying not to laugh. The first thing that this always-angry asshole said was, “nigga, don’t text me no damn exclamation points!” He went on and on, talking all kinds of shit, and I told him that I was armed (because I ain’t got time for no bullshit). In response, he said this! Y’all, those people are crazy as hell! My pathologically lying aunt acts the same way—bipolar and belligerent. I’ve been surrounded by dummies and deadbeat dads all my life. With that, nobody taught me to be who I am—my mind and maturity are intrinsic to me as an individual. Now, get y’all court clothes ready! There’s still time to have some custom shit made if you want…
Omniscience