So, I gotta let this out, because it's killing me. I normally avoid these kinds of monologues, with the potential of becoming something, more. I'm really good at ignoring shills, which is best applied in thought as, the ability to instantly fall into a state/space/comfyzone/armor of God bubble sphere shield, (any colour you like), and take relief in the loud collisions of a lower frequency, ricocheting off, as if you're inside a PlayPlace/Chuckie Cheese, ball pit adventure tubes; made of God's gold + platinum allow, golactdinicium.
So, I've done some research. By research, I mean, using search engines, on the internet, and reading, but mostly what I affectionately call, hoarding. (eHoardemy) It's something that I'm not that proud of. Why? I don't read half the dox I 'chive. I always say to myself, that one day I'll get to it, and compile, cite, sort, and organize my data to the point where the Library of Alexandria would gleam emerald hues of envy from its halls; emanating from the surrounding scrolls & tomes. It's a procrastinatory-based delusion. (bottom-based)
In all practicality, I spend more time digging in the moment where I happen to boost my efforts with stimulants, combined with a 'strict,' [lol], forced-keto-esque intake, and comforting nourishment as a rebound treat. I realize my mind, although, carrying the potential of a plasma whip, also, requires dedicated maintenance, and recharging. The human, in reality, factor. No matter how invincible I visualize my meditations, the odds are against me, and (You) too, fren(s).
This leads me to a pressing issue, Freddy. It took me a couple of times to parse that's Finkel's given moniker. I prefer to think of Fredrick, as an asshole everyone enjoys to hate. The truly disturbing aspect of this, so does Mr. Finkelsad… ist. Seriously, I think the guy has a freaky fetish for being publicly abused, and accused of ballpark similar things that would be AUTOMATICALLY anti-Semitic/anti-Jewish?
I'm not jewish, I'm not anything, God & I are cool. I don't know why people have such a qualm with saying the phrase, God. Yes, I am aware of the demiurge known as Yaldaboath, and it's two plasmoid-wormlike entities. (former, and it's basically gone at this point. The hostage situation is a much more pressing matter, as it always has.) God, not Satan, or the Devil, or the Nameless One, are that asshole down there. (whatever you chose to scratch your head to, makes no difference) will never turn away from me, put me down, make fun of me, make me feel bad, punish me, scold me, isolate me, berate me, steal my will, guilt-trip me, manipulate me, coerce me, nor cause me to be lead into tempting situations where I will end up in a constant state of perpetual pain, unlike… well, you know.
They both exist, as much as (You) do.
So does Finks.
I don't HATE, him, or his cohorts. They're liars, and fakes. They talk shit about me, and make my life suck, more so than any other slice of civilization… but they're human beings. Assholes, but human nonetheless.
If we really mean what we say, when we say, ALL, that also, although reluctantly for many, includes, Finkelbreath & Froyns.
Too,
fucking,
bad…
Yeah, we're going to need more deodorant, (natural FinkFrenly kinds), but c'mon you fags, not all birds of the same feather, fluck togoyther. This is why I know you're scared; Finky. I'm talking to you man, (and your female co-part). You aren't allowed to be the victim anymore. We know how much you've made things, just that much more, pig-fucked. Yet, unlike those who are only capable of nothing, when considering stopping, what's coming, (Nothing, at all); you didn't eat the wee-little pork-chops…
—shuddered—