People in real life could buy minecraft packages that were like pokemon go, like the mobs would show up in small dog size around the house and you could collect them and set up areas around your home with virtual decor that you could construct yourself with this app. It was all the new rage, and everyone was getting it for their kids. (Think Mo Creatures mod.)
In the dream I was a techmod just like I am on server, only instead of policing chat and helping with player issues, I could teleport to app packages that people set up in their homes and help fix the glitches. I helped them figure out how to set up 'claim' areas like in kids' bedrooms to keep the app a little more contained, and I could help them expand claims to other parts of their houses and stuff.
Imagine everything about minecraft build into an app that you could play with virtually in real life. Imagine anchoring your purchases to 2D and 3D 'claims' that kept out hackers, like when they visit your house they wouldn't be able to make your virtual pets go off claim and stuff.
In the dream I went to at least 4 different virtual claim areas fixing problems, and it was so perfectly meshed between real life and virtual that it was a pleasure doing the work.
I'd love to go into a description, but I'm afraid it would turn into a book because it was so detailed. Just imagine your house literally having virtual pets running around.
In that post I wrote this, the screenshot will click to wikipedia.
"For instance, 2 or 3 years ago I was deep digging and wondered if Q either sprang directly from or hijacked the Cicada game." Note this link is different from the wiki link to the screenshot below.
This next comes from another site, click the screenshot to go there.
Then I wrote
"People forget things so quickly, even when they are very smart. As soon as Q established being 17, I instantly thought Cicada.
I don't have the kind of brain that decrypts riddles, but I do see more easily than some others how patterns emerge. I'm very good with patterns.
It's nearly cicada season. Q says it's going to be a hot summer. I live in the heart of midwest cicada country, so I'm very familiar with them. Maybe we should be taking this literally to get some deep dig info."
Again, screenshot takes you to the site.
"See that? Brood IX will hatch this year in states where big bases and alphabet buildings are located."
"17 is a very important number with Q and our current POTUS. One anon was noticing how many family members and past associates had been born on the 17th of their birth months. Things like that.
Maybe we need to learn where these cicada broods are typically located. Looks to me like some agencies will be getting swarmed."
"This is the year that the cabal goes down, per this POTUS administration.
This is the year cicadas swarm the black cube, per symbolism.
Just like in Hunger Games.
They stormed the Capitol.
You can leap to every imagery and pun and take that where you please. I honestly don't know if there is a connection between Q and Cicada, but Q says there are no coincidences.
In the event Brood IX means anything..."
This clicks to a map that you can zoom in on and see the areas better. Check out the towns and stuff. Maybe look up what is in the area on other maps...
Ok, that was the blog post.
Now let's get back to twitter. Very shortly after I started my new thread about the Washington Post announcing cicadas, another user started a new thread with my own thread starter. The snip is too large to get the timestamp, but this clicks over so you can see it if you want.
I was very surprised. Anyone who follows me on blogs knows that I don't handle interaction very well even when it's 100% positive because I'm a super reclusive aspienado, and that is why there are very rarely comments on my blogs, even with comments open. I'm a lurker supporter, I don't require anyone's acknowledgement or validation, and I just keep blogging anyway, so I had to wrap my head around this.
I took a deep breath and responded.
This is the screenshot in the pic. I got it from an image search, and it links back to a tweet. Click the image to see the tweet.
And here is that tweet with a timestamp, in case it ever disappears.
And then I added this tweet.
And that is pertinent because it's this screenshot, which clicks to the site.
There was no response to that, so I let it go and went to bed.
This morning I decided to own asking the question.
And now I'm going to make a suggestion.
It's time. We need to start asking POTUS who Q is. We need to trend the question as hard as we trended other things lately. We need to make the world see we are asking the question so they will join in and ask the question so that millions and millions of use are asking
One of my physical therapists let me know I have really young skin for my age and had a hard time believing I went through a body-wrecking self destructive heavy alcohol and more stage, to the point of kicking off a nasty autoimmune flare that lasted a few years.
I absolutely do not take my health for granted. I certainly haven't earned the good fortune of not looking my age.
The divergent nature of living for decades in loads of pain and stress and looking younger than my age the entire time only means I don't have the audacity to be vain. I do try to keep up being clean and pleasant to behold, but I honesty fail spectacularly in any fashion sense.
Inside my head none of any of that exists. I know the truths I live with.
"So you'd rather die than give up the man who tried to kill you?"
Sadly, yes, but love had nothing to do with it. I've often wondered how many other children he went on to rape over the years after I hid ours away from him.
"You were the one time that I let love weaken me, and I want you around as a constant reminder to never make that mistake again."
Very literally played that out myself, just didn't announce it. Sometimes I wonder if my psychologist ever figured that out. Just because one answer comes out of my mouth doesnt mean all the rest of me feel that way.
I could look like a Shar Pei and it wouldn't change my life inside my head.
I can't even begin to describe how boring my life is now compared to before. It saves my wretched soul from rotting in prison or in the ground.
Went completely off track at the psychologist. I really need to get back to listing topics of things I want to work on. It occurred to me driving away that 13 years ago my original intent was to be able to talk to people better, and that the last time we met I announced I don't want to talk to anyone any more at all. And he's the only person I talk to about stuff that really concerns me.
I have a family. I do have a few friends on this earth. I still feel empty inside. And I'm not sure I care that much any more about that.
If this is all in my head, if my life really is made for lurker games and shadows behind the scenes, if there really are strangers that reach out and check on me when people I love walk on by, then maybe, just maybe, this whole covert war thing validates the dream I had as a very young child (possibly 3 or 4) that I was a man with an important secret job and I was killed by an explosion, and I came back to finish what I was doing then.
I've joked around about people nearly and sometimes actually dying around me any time I really do get to work, and the first thing I thought per that pinky blog post I made today was possibly I got nudged about a threat to the ONE person I really talk to. If that's the case, do I withdraw, like I did from everyone else? Or do I weigh the current situation and continue?
I will never really have what I want in this life. I've accepted that. Friends came and went. Loved ones are far away or on very different mind planets. Sometimes I want to dwell. Sometimes I can't feel anything else. So I live in my head.
Possibly another taper migraine like 2 weeks ago, auras in both eyes, but at least blood pressure is very reasonable this time. I'm down to only two gabapentin 100 a day now, skipping midday dose this week. Start twice a week physical therapy tomorrow. Hoping the pain level will keep going down as I finish the taper.
I haven't had any blog surprises show up since dad died. Just realized that. Interesting. Whoever was popping in has gone quiet again.
Yeah, I know, right? I just did that quiet ones post yesterday. Maybe I'm getting nudged.
Yeah, the game is surreal. Like one of me is psychotic or something and delights in baiting me.
Pretty sure that one goes back to the early days. Possibly the mean one. A very old dream just popped up with the dripping water sound in the dark, so who knows. The one inside a very dark cave with a big pool around a damp middle wall, and I'm barefoot so I can feel my way in the dark along a rough skinny ledge, and I'm trying to very quietly stay ahead of a dark figure also following the wall. One of those horrible dreams that never stops, locked in time, always there somewhere in my head. I'm always a young child in that dream, unable to call out for help, no possibility of safety.
The place I went when I reached out for the wall before I expired, perhaps. Not sure.
I was driving home with a playlist going that I've honestly not listened through since I made it because it got so long. So I was only half listening, not watching at all, and stuff starting clicking.
I've spent the last several years dealing with repressed memories and eventually realizing my oddball disorientation spells might be dissociative. The last 5 months in particular have been like finally nearing the completion of a huge complicated jigsaw puzzle.
I've been leaving myself messages for years, sometimes best laid out through free association games I started playing many years ago. I do what I think are random trails through youtube or search engines and come back weeks, months, or even years later and see patterns. Some of the patterns are more subtle and I have no clue I created them until I review later. Oddly, reviews are usually done on spur of the moment, like little timers go off in my head and I'm suddenly in the mood to follow one of my trails.
Keeping in mind that I once consciously possessed an eidetic memory (until illness initiated a sort of brain collapse in 2004) and have out of the blue known details without explanation (like my brain hides things from me), I've over time accepted that I simply no longer have conscious access at will and that I have figured out ways to communicate to myself across unknown barriers.
My biggest conundrums have been that 1981-1990 are a very mixed up broken blur, and that I seem to take myself hostage back and forth since I was a kid. 'We' sometimes fight each other for control, and I'm lately working through the idea that maybe we can cooperate more if we call a truce.
To make it easier to process both subjectively and objectively, I have been using blog names as personality compartments. I had no idea I was even doing this, at first it was just me using a sorting system to filter down some chaos in my head. I'm autist and misunderstandings galore are my lifestyle, so I guess I built a sorting system so I wouldn't feel like I was drowning in confusion.
One of the first strong blog personalities to step out was bluejacky, or just Jacky, what I've also dubbed the aspienado spawn event. The second that stepped up was pinkfeldspar, or Pinky. There must be some kind of middle ground because my pinterest address is pinkybluejacky.
Years later, I'm discovering these weren't accidents. These have been dominant personalities that I've been dealing with constantly all my life, and they repel each other like the wrong ends of magnets. During the last 5 months, the war for control (Pinky had been in control for years) crescendoed throughout my dad dying, and culminated in Jacky sliding back in after Pinky realized a truce needed to happen.
That was actually a huge relief. Jacky doesn't feel emotions, and going 'flat' again after so many years allowed a smooth transition into self care after years of physical and emotional sacrifice Pinky used to commandeer a tough situation.
To be frank, Jacky isn't the best person handling kids, and Pinky knew it. Once the situation changed, Pinky went on braincation.
We are both cognizant, both control a couple other wild cards that are very bad to turn loose, one being suicidal (prime?), the other an addict without a moral compass (Janika). We're not sure who the really mean one is, but Pinky says Claudia, and we drop that hot potato really fast without dwelling. So "I" am currently Jacky (don't really call me Jacky, that's dumb), and Pinky hears this. To be clear, I don't talk to Pinky, she's bossy and takes over. It's kinda hard explaining. This is the furthest I've gotten being able to word it out.
Back to the playlist today. Let's see what I might be wanting to say to myself. It's been crossing our mind that there might be a completely separate split problem, hence the secrets. I have no idea how to even approach this. Pinky suggested simply asking questions and seeing if we get answers. This goes back to the night I found out my friend was murdered, and then burning the box of letters the next day. These videos are so much like the inside of my head arguing over that hijack of control.
Ok, that first one was like how the me that hijacked that night hated the me it took over. That hate was so deep and harsh that I was unable to kick back out past it and feel anything again until I had a little girl and realized I would literally lose her to the state unless I took control back and did something about it.
After that, we duked it out, stealing control back and forth for several years until my life was so messed up that nothing got better until I met Scott.
Clearly, to me, I hit dead ends trying to figure out what exactly the fuck happened inside myself to spiral out of control so badly, starting with that night.
Ok, next vid.
That very first sentence is me in my childhood. Seriously. I had decided never to love anyone, because everything about love as a concept was so painful, I just had to shut it off. Except my best friend. I never consciously thought that, but evidently I worshipped the ground she walked on or something.
Jacky and Pinky were borne of rubble, a survival mechanism, perhaps. Jacky and Pinky both stepped forward in 2007 after my heart broke again. I think they had been there all along and I finally accepted them as personalities. The only problem was I couldn't put them on the same blog... They were like opposites, one emotionally bereft and one a weepy, angry, severely depressed mess.
So now, truce. Jacky and Pinky are learning to 'talk'. Like I said, Pinky is very bossy. She sucks as a friend, as she puts it. And Failure Is Not An Option. "We would be strong together. No one can stop us."
Truce. No more sabotaging each other.
Load and clear. "You cannot have one without the other." "There was no me without him." Accepting each other. Accepting all my broken pieces. Pinky was lost without Jacky.
Pinky put the playlist together on the run during high stress, terrified another hijacking would happen with disastrous consequences. Jacky agreed this time not to take over and block Pinky out. Once the agreement happened, the switch was almost instantaneous. Pinky can share feeling the relief and is mostly 'asleep' now. Jacky is back on the original health plan goals from years ago and being amazing.
No more sabotaging each other.
Next vid. This is a clip of the show, not a fanvid. This is what it's like in my head blogging double meanings to myself without realizing it. This is how Pinky finally got through to Jacky through years of blogging.
And now we're wondering what part is still hiding the secrets. Because Jacky doesn't have an answer to why that box got burned.
There is a dangerously apathetic component inside me that we're not sure will even talk to us without doing something very, very stupid. That piece of me is utterly black being anti-love.
This is where we agree to just drop it and let it go. For now. Not gonna lie, it got real creepy when I realized during this next one that as I kept drifting in deeper, disengaged while I was driving, that an eavesdropper was thinking about wrecking the car. I mean, I wasn't even feeling depressed, Jacky mode is about as flat as it gets, and I had to pull back out hard and fast shutting that one down. It's like a super surreal mode that pops up once in awhile in the car and thinks about spontaneously taking the car off the road without any thought to damage or injury, no feels at all, and I nearly feel sick at the thought I might not be able to stay in control of my arms. There's like a dead space inside of me that really creeps me out.
I have no idea what that's about, maybe connected to the wreck I had years ago, but it's the same with knives, so whatever that is, Pinky and Jacky both clamp down on it.
And then this next came on and everything was fine. Good Jacky music.
I've never written all of that in one place together before.
Every single day there are thoughts of death, sometimes bizarre suicidal kinds of thoughts, sometimes other kinds of bloody thoughts like dismembering, although I never think of hurting people I know, or about how fun that might be. I'm not into gore for gore's sake. I'm not into that kind of entertainment.
I feel like personality switching keeps the deeper darker lurker at bay.
I'm not afraid of monsters, but of what I will do to them.
Which would make me a monster.
That was hard to write and took hours. I've been thinking for a couple of weeks how to even describe it. Vids help me since I lack emotional intuition, and oftentimes it takes quite awhile (months) for concepts and ideas to percolate back out into description.
If I weren't so inwardly focused, I'm certain I'd be quite the troublemaker.
I fixed Scott's computer through all this as well, so I'm the hero tonight.
One of those catching up lots of little chores days. The rest of Dad's life insurance came in. My bank has been uber aggressive on fraud last few months, so I managed to get myself flagged trying to cash that. Then once that was settled, got flagged again for trying to make some payments. Hopefully that is settled now, but I need to go get a few groceries now. Really hope that doesn't flag again...
We have been living check to check for so many years that my bank doesn't know what to do with me actually having a balance to manage.
Anyway, it was a nice amount, and I am very content. All that stress over my dad all those months seems to be over, and getting something back afterward puts final closure on for me. I don't care any more about how hard it all was. Big crazy mixup, this life, for all of us.
First day skipping coffee on purpose. I've been sticking to half cup all week, this morning almost seemed like a drag to open new creamer for so little, so I just skipped it. My head caught up in the grocery store and said wtf we doing this with no coffee cusscusscuss. A gentler side of my brain added politely, Yes, during a taper, no less, and went back to humming along not helping at all with the shopping list.
1:45 p.m. Took a vote. Unanimous for 1/4 cup of coffee.
2:00 p.m. Headache was gone almost instantly.
It's getting almost comical how easy my marriage is with Pinky out of the way now.
I just found out we've had an accordion in the basement for years. Like possibly way over a decade years.
An accordion??? O_o
Lots of waking up last night, BUT I can't remember the dreams I wrestled with. That's a first. I remember I had lots of them and they disturbed me. That's all.
I've been quietly asking myself more questions. Maybe I'll get some more answers soon.
I will be very surprised if internet doesn't completely go down at least for a short while during the Storm.
Prayers with all our patriots as the war rages for our freedom from slavery. Qanons who've kept up with the research will understand this vid progression. Blessings on the SRA victims who've stepped forward and even testified amid ongoing threats to life and safety.
Someday our mythologies will be about the stories we grew up with that developed our truths through an entertainment industry.
Kinda makes you wonder if the old Greek stuff was originally written by guys not unlike Stan Lee...
Except nowadays the writers are heroes themselves.
I say that with deep respect. I know it wasn't easy.
Someone lately keeps wiping out my produce in my player shop every single night. I normally wake up to all the arrows or portal staffs being gone, but lately it's carrots and potatoes. o_o
Lotta rain out there. Sure beats ice and snow.
I moved tomorrow's appointment so I can take care of something else. The countdowns seem to have faded since dad died, so it's not bothering me at all.
Aside from my normal manic waves rolling through, which seem gentler lately, I seem to have flattened back out into mostly not feeling. I noticed it several weeks ago, like I flipped in an eye blink, like Pinky relinquished control and Jacky stepped back in. Jacky is the practical problem solver in a more ego pov. No worries about others. No holding down the fort, as it were. A few times there have been minor struggles to care, but Jacky soothes it over with Doesn't this feel better now? To just not care? And the point is conceded and rebellion lies back down to sleep.
Yes, I am still me. But who is me? Me is we. The Pinky years seem to be on hiatus. Janika is allowed in name only (alcohol craving disaster, we roll our eyes). Jacky is back on original Plan to get healthy again, and results so far are nothing less than amazing.
Pinky was so afraid to give up control. Being an interface doesn't mean being executive function.
I like seeing how far I can progress effects. I save each change and move forward from there. I used to use the AOL editor years ago, made some interesting artwork out of photos. Then I played on Print Shop for a few more years. Now I just play on my phone. I do this with all kinds of pix. The goal with the save and progress is like a visual game, a logical irreversible sequence of 'events' with a final destination that still retains integrity. Progression is usually impossible at some point.
This year has 2018 beat hands down for length of illness time for people around me. My worst ongoing symptom is laryngitis, otherwise never really felt the impacts others have been dragging through for weeks.
So I cut coffee down to less than half a cup a day several days ago, and my blood pressure has improved markedly so far. Honestly not missing it like I thought I would.
My blood sugar has likewise been pretty fantastic for having another steroid shot. Of course, I'm not being stupid. Just usually don't see it back in the 90s so quickly.
Assessment-wise, just about everything heart related is unchanged from 2011. I have a few notes leaning toward congestive heart failure developments, but they don't seem to be developing much over time. Obviously, meds that cause edema make things worse, and so I fight to get back off them. If coffee were a med I'd be fighting it, too. The side effects have been ridiculous, just because it's socially sanctioned doesn't mean I'm not an idiot hanging onto it.
See, like this.
So anyone who looked for me is getting up to the 24 hour world news information on my facebook and pinky blog. I'll put it here as well.
Pinky blog followers watched me struggle publicly with many researches over the last few years over whether the Intel drops were for real. I had to migrate to new blogs and accounts to stay ahead of the tens of thousands of mass account closures as we tried our hardest to keep saying these things out loud.
I hope you will all understand many good things are coming. Too bad the medias are still trying not to let this wonderful news become public for the masses. Many will be confused. Please be patient while the light of truth is worked through the dark to you all.