The end of bitterness
See also Food poisoning
The end of Bitterness, another part.
Here is the sort of eplilepsy I've gotten:
1) Two thousand and six, somewhere around the end of february to the start of mars. I was burnt out, got a bloodclot (majorly, i felt it pumping blood there) because of a Nietzsche quote I had snöat in på:
"Cpurageous untroubled mocking violent - thus wisdom wants us. But she is a woman who loves only a warrior".
I also couldn't eat or drink (except for water) for about 3 weeks.
2) At tullinge. I smoked indoors. When the truxal had stopped working, I eventually got to where I couldn't close my eyes, sort of like that movie Clockwork Orange. I also didn't clean my sheets often. There was surely a build-up of mould in the sheets, as I used to shower without using a towel and just lay in bed directly.
3) Now I'm getting it sort of like before. The spirits yesterday said it would just be an fractal iteration, worse than ever before. I was still saved by another positive polarity spirit.
About 1½ month ago I got to where I didn't need to eat, drink, take pills or injections, I seemingly called this "Cancer Frequency" before. Now I understand more of the lengths of it, during the Metamorphosis.
I still survive, because there are people on my side. There were before as well, I just didn't realize it.
Now I'm wondering about this site - will it eventually break down completely? Will all my work here be lost? What then matters? Ree ree, they live on, or lived on, for 1000 billions of years, until I ruined it for them? But they told me later how it were.
The Star Wars saga will continue for a long time. And there will be a mono-rail between Stockholm, Göteborg and Malmö. I don't know how long in time, but it will happen. 6g is already being built out. People will get sicker from it, and some can handle it, like my mothers stalker. Can I handle it? Yes, by not using smartphones.
Now I don't have an alarm button. I could complain to the staff about it, but some things are futile. The more you complain the worse it gets.
I don't and can't crosspost this to the dozen of sites I frequent almost every day. But it sort of gets better... and worse. It's just how it works for me. This is my story, and only mine?
What am I listening to? A scythian song, my roots.
av Gabriel Fauci (ris och ros)
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