I feel as if in Journal

I’m in one of my own novels

How strange to have been so prophetic.

I live my daily life almost perfectly oblivious to the goings on of the insane world- and I look around once in a while to check in. How are you doing? Holy fuck.

Haha. It is not a good feeling, certainly. I feel gratitude, but also a sad sort of… Uhg. I was on about the end of days like 20 years ago. Everyone told me to shut the fuck up and that I’m a stupid looney. Guess I don’t have much motivation to care about people who attacked me.

Heck, even people who were onto it just FIVE years ago got destroyed. Makes it real hard to circle back, y’all. Just in case you were wondering.

Sometimes I think about those people who outright called me names and did nasty things. I wonder now if they regret it. I wonder if they have any awareness of what I was actually trying to say or do, or if they have any awareness of the reality of the situation, even now. But I also see how their contemporaries obsessively and in deep addiction return to the fear porn, the MSM, the public broadcasting, the brainwashing, and I know that those people are not only gone, but they are happy to be on their side of the fence. They’re happy with their choice. And, I would not get in the way of that. But I also wonder the outcome of their choice. And you know, it ain’t ever pretty.

People are beginning to panic. I can sense it rising. It is the moment when you just begin to become aware you’re out too far and can’t possibly swim back, and the tide is going out.

It’s gonna be a fun ride