“We were as one, babe, for a moment in time. And it seemed everlasting, that you would always be mine. Now you want to be free, so I’m lettin’ you fly. ‘Cause I know in my heart, babe, our love will never die, no!” What’s love? I’d bet big bucks that there’re plenty of people—sympathizers, empathizers, regular readers, etc.—who believe that the feelings of familiarity and fondness felt when watching words in my published posts are prompted by love. If it’s any consolation, yes, in my opinion, it’s perfectly possible for anyone affectionate to “love” me after investing tons of time and thought into wondering what will happen in the conclusion of the crazy conspiracy centered on me. I mean, for Pete’s sake, it’s been years of care, concern, consideration, consistency, clarity, closure, etcetera, etcetera. Love is as much chemistry and biology as it is interaction and intimacy, so experiencing something strong—like the feelings forced out when being validated or vindicated by the informative insight that my conscious content provides—on a regular, repetitive basis can become addictive. An addiction is a chronic, compulsive habit that commonly can’t be controlled without tedious treatment. Unfortunately, nearly every everyday Earthling looks at love like it’s never negative, despite addicts’ affinity for fucking up their lovable lives by being compulsively careless, unconcerned, inconsiderate, inconsistently sober-minded, unclear, etcetera, etcetera. But if addicts can’t control compulsions, is it their fault? Diverging slightly, whether y’all know it or not, special skills serve several secret purposes, and secrets serve as a saving grace to shining skill masters when sneaky, Satan-serving shitheads think that they’re slick. At this point, when witnessing weirdos work in highly-weird Hollywood, I imagine a holy hell—where problematic people, pagans, pimps, prostitutes, performers, pretenders, and many more claim Christliness as disguised Devil worshippers. Coincidentally, the word “holly” describes a pretty plant used during the happy, holy holiday season—as the prickly plant’s green leaves symbolize Christ’s “crown of thorns” and its bright red berries represent said selfless savior’s blood. Which queues the query, if education is essential, why the figgity fuck aren’t enough influential individuals learning and leading? Have educated entertainers like juicy Jasmine Crockett learned enough lessons in the forever-fight for freedom—as spectating students and tentative teachers—to take charge of Christ’s Congress? Like I said, the goofy-ass government is undeniably unlikely to un-goofy the goofy-ass government. How many casual conversations do co-conspiring celebrities need to have before the brainless bunch of buyable bimbos and buffoons realize that they’re professional procrastinators and pitifulness promoters who’re somehow steadily “booked and busy?” Busy doing what, exactly? Again, y’all ain’t doin’ nothin’ but regularly, repetitively re-reporting trending topics and stealing smart statements from actual smart people. Remember, change can’t come from conservation, and it’s time to clean cowards’ clocks. Anyhoo, does this sound familiar, “Life, in all its complexity, is the perfect test for me.” Wallo, if you’ve been paying attention, do I even have to say it? Doesn’t your favorite fictional fighter look a little like an amalgamation of pre-pale Michael Jackson and a young Muhammad Ali? The Easter eggs and hidden hints in that marvelous movie are captivatingly clever. The cryptic cinematic creator covertly covered everything from cultural appropriation to the overt offensiveness of the predatory practices purposely perpetuated in the intentionally inimical, injurious industry of illusion and indecency. Obviously, the proper, polite protagonist portrayed an angel, in a sense, which is why he saved the sexy singer—the distressed damsel—so often. What’s more, soul searching for finality is a significant stage in spiritual journeys—not excluding the religious rituals of specific sects of Christianity. If you don’t know, to “bite the bullet” means to conjure the courage to face fears or tackle testing, trying tasks—especially when those tasks are inevitable or inescapable. Additionally, in said marvelous movie, the parts pointing to a particular prophet’s prophecy are pretty prominent, at least to me—the “particular prophet.” Y’all, I ain’t new to this, I’m true to this. One of my first internet screen names was “YungBlkProphet,” and I was approximately 12 when I began using it. “It’s time to leave the nest where you were born, this journey you must take alone. Spread your wings and fly. There’s a power deep inside you, an inner strength you’ll find in time of need.” As song lyrics, those aren’t awesome, but if the Father uttered the aforementioned assertion, what would it mean to fly far from beneath God’s warm, welcoming wing? And if God is in everything and everyone everywhere—existing as an inevitable, inescapable entity—is anyone alone anywhere at anytime? Christianity is confusing as hell, which is why being a bible-bearing believer is burdensome, huh? Are praying people punished for their sins or by their sins? Besides sex, there are tons of things that are much more mental than many may mention, and that’s possibly because their haunted heads make many imagine that they’re being hunted down by the holiest head honcho himself. Right? Celebrity co-conspirators, are you super sure you want a soldier-like savior when highly-weird Hollywood has made more victims and has more vile, violating villains than any American prison? Well, regardless, soon…
Omniscience