If you mess with the ram, you get the ‘butt! Times tend to take their toll when they’re tough, but being careful, consistent, and concentrating closely only on what you can control eases everything. If all humans have is time, what are you doing wrong with yours? I’m going to keep these thoughts short, sweet, and simple, so the stupidest of you don’t take too much time trying to decode or decipher decidedly dumbed-down dialogue. Like I said, most people don’t do what they want, they do what’s expected of them, what they’ve been manipulated into doing or made to do, what trends and traditions tell them to do, what everyone else is doing, etc. By the same token, if taking time to think things through thoroughly isn’t fashionable or the focus of folks’ fixation with the future, pondering before proceeding and being proactive in preparation of potential problems ain’t gon’ be popular or poppin’. Everybody’s stupid because nearly nobody notices how noxious normalcy is. But bouncing back to the matter with the most meaning, the weirdos and weaklings of this wicked and war-ridden world waste too much time wondering who, why, where, and what everyone else is doing with their time, which is why the weak-ass weirdos and their wonky workers won’t win this war. Misery makes mating mandatory because the discomfort and displeasure deriving from that sad state of suffering is sustained without someone who sides with or shares similar soul-sinking situations, but sometimes seems to subside when comfort comes from correlating company who can confirm a coinciding connection with said state’s cause. Damn, I said I’d keep shit simple, huh? Well, in other words, evenness and equality is encouraging and empowering, even when intentions are ill. To tie this together, think of Mike’s memorable message, “You are not alone. I am here with you.” Nevertheless, the distinctive difference dividing misery-makers from comfort-cravers is the latter’s comprehension of tough times and concern for those troubled and the former’s lack thereof. Misery-makers will fuss and fight to force folks to feel as weak and worthless as them, whereas comfort-cravers will venture and vow to be the support that they seek. Essentially, it’s “Now you know how I feel!” versus “I know how you feel.” So, to the conspirators and co-conspirators meaning to make me miserable, like I keep saying, fuck y’all, kill your motherfuckin’ selves, and I hope all y’all fuckin’ die! We all know for a full fuckin’ fact that mentally ill, miserable, meddlesome motherfuckers sit around all day thinking and talking about what everyone else is doing with their time, like that’s positive, productive, and provides peace of mind. If hatefulness heightens your happiness, nobody needs you—except maybe the endlessly evil eternal enemy. For example, the complete cast and crew of celebrity, casual, and commonplace content-creating co-conspirators are suckers who don’t stand for shit, but the country’s most crooked cops and their conspiratorial commanders commend their cooperation, so they’re being rewarded for being nice niggers or sycophantic servants who’re observably obsequiously obedient. Like they say, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” Speaking of, shout-out to Treasure Wilson, and no, I’m not calling you trash, ma’am. Even if you, Cam, and Ma$e have cooperated with the country’s most crooked cops continually. I get it, it’s trendy to taunt and tease a grown-ass man for being much more mature and intelligent than the average person. Still, get the fuck out of here! Anyhoo, Cesar Chavez’s abuse allegations come at a chaotic and confusing time, and with the admired activist’s name being an alliterative appellative, I assume it’s appropriate to assume that tainting the long-loved leader’s legacy after all this time is a pompous presentation of power. Your Honor, I’m beyond bothered and burdened by the conspirators and co-conspirators’ adamant attempts to scare me into submission. It’s gotten to the point where these tough times have taken their toll on me. And again, a component of the cover-up of this crazy conspiracy is for objective observers to see me as someone who is too soft to survive the stress of everyone else’s stupidity. But they can’t make their misery-making make sense, Your Honor. So, soon…
Omniscience