noontime stream of consciousness

I woke up, WIDE AWAKE, at 2 am, but even that seemed too early for me.

I'm wide awake. Mind so woke cause my brain never pushed the brakes.

If you know this Parquet Court song, then you know this song and rhythm is probably not the best thing to lull you back to sleep. There are horns and whistles in this song. You know, for someone whose brain is pretty empty most of the time, the moment I wake up it sure is like "WHY WERE YOU SLEEPING SO LONG! (like four hours in a row is asking too much.) I HAVE SO MUCH TO CATCH YOU UP ON."

Anyway.... up at 2 am would make for a very, very long day. I flopped back and forth for at least thirty minutes, but I must have briefly gone back to sleep because I had a very vivid dream that Elon Musk died. I saw his dead, gigantic body in a humongous coffin (he was larger than normal in my dream) being hoisted up and literally crowd surfed through his funeral of his mourning and distraught fans.

I was somewhere with lots of TVs, because everyone was watching it. I was telling people to just wait, he was going to come back to life and this is how he would convince everyone to use his neuralink. Then I woke up. It honestly didn't even feel like I had gone back to sleep, but when I woke up for a minute I really thought Elon Musk was dead.

Back when we lived in a neighborhood, like 14 years ago, we had an elderly neighbor named Mary who was super into holistic stuff. One day we were talking about migraine cures and she suddenly went off on the importance of names. To be honest with you, before then I had never really given much thought to meaning behind names, but now if someone in a public position is suspicious to me, I look up the meaning of their name.

Elon (Elyon means supreme/oak tree) Reeve (means both sheriff/jailer or dream) Musk (means testicle, or I think of a musk ox, which is in the goat family.) So if you want to get really schizo-ish, you can say his name basically means that he's the chief root for this simulation. He's our sheriff for this fake Westworld of a life. Howdy Sheriff Testicle, everything you say and do is an absolute lie. 

Here is something cool and random I learned. The word mouse comes from mushk (little testicle) because a mouse resembled the scrotum of a deer. Words, how fun!

Yeah, yeah, yeah a dream is usually just a dream, but then I had this instant thought of the Economist cover from the beginning of this year. The internet of bodies' monster brain appears to coincide with the meaningless and empty ballots. 

This could be you, for only one low payment of your soul. This lifetime guarantee. Void after death.

I have also noticed the moon pulsating many times. I did some googling and there are various theories on a throbbing moon, but apparently it does happen. Did anyone know that? I sure didn't. Initially I thought it was a camera focus problem, but supposedly this happens in conjunction with alignment to certain planets. I couldn't get a video of it because it didn't seem to happen with any pattern. 

Try it yourself and I think you'll easily be able to discern this is not a focus issue. Everyone has access to look at the sky, and my cellphone is at least eight years old and still shows me so much more than I can see with my naked eye.

None of this is science. Everything is spiritual. 

The political committees are trying to shame people into voting, threatening that voter status is public information. Not who you voted for, but if you voted. Shame away. I don't care. I'll gladly tell anyone that I've been convicted since I was a small child to not believe or trust in any of these governmental lies. I intuitively knew it as a child, and now I understand why. I have registered to vote one single time in my life, and that was only because it was part of our grade for a sociology class in college. I am not ashamed of this at all.

Voting is a right, not a law. It doesn't matter who you vote for because all the paths lead to the same finish line, and you aren't going to find Christ in any political side. I will render to Caesar what is Casear's but I'm just a pilgrim in search of my homeland. I'm not even from here. These customs and traditions appear foreign to my kind.

I acknowledge this might be hard if you hadn't spent every moment of your entire life already feeling awkward and like an outcast anyway, so you accepted yourself and never cared what anyone thought of you. It does take courage to go against the grain if that is not the way you were inherently made. Some of us seem to have been born with some oppositional genes that naturally fight against societal norms. Take for instance, something simple, but I haven't shaved my legs in about 6 months and it's been fantastic. (Ask Peppy if he cares. I think he likes it because I'm like a wild woman.) What a horrible burden to have ever been placed on women. Viva la leg hair!