Copyrights of the Universe

I finally went back to sleep after 5 am this morning.

I had a phenomenal dream, and I couldn’t believe my good luck.

I lay musing at 5:30 on the wonders I had dreamed and fell asleep.

Twenty minutes later, I wake myself with a shot.

Actually, it took three.  Wake up, Body!  -No.  Don’t want to.

Wake up, Body!!  -No, Don’t want to.  WAKE UP, BODY!!! -OKAAAAAAAY!!!

 

The nightmare was something I had never dreamed before, never felt before, never seen before.  Not in movies, not anywhere.  I was trembling.   It would be a good idea not to go right back to sleep.  I was not affected personally in it, but my friends were getting killed.

Funny:  I have no friends.  But in my dream, my friends were getting slaughtered.  A scene out of Star Wars with a galactic ship composed of many ribs.  The ribs were in 5’s.  The first 5, and I thought I had seen an entire aircraft carrier flying.  But there were 10 of such sets of ribs.  All with flying machines taking off and killing my friends.  There was nothing I could do.  Only wake myself up.  So that no more died.

I could only watch in horror.  There was nothing I could do.

 

My voice is only good for lullabies.  I guess it’s my talent.  The lullaby.  I don’t know why.  I listen to my own recorded voice and go right to sleep.  It puts me out.  Mesmerizes like a flowing stream of water.  A few streams, maybe.  And it puts me out.  When life became dark, I found comfort singing to myself.  That’s been 16 years ago.  A 16-years’ reign of terror in my life.

Kinda from the moment nobody came to pick me up from my LDS mission tour.  Who does that!  25 months and 6 days for an empty unwelcome.  No one.  And the terror began!  So I took hold of numbers.

 

In the many booking-in at jails, the terror would try to unnerve.I remember the first detective who called set appointment to come slap a paper in my face.  For my re…well, You know, I don’t really want to talk about all that.  But I found comfort in numbers.  Like a shield. A protection.  Counting.  Numbers are smaller than atoms.  They’re smaller than apples and oranges.

I started trying to see how many numbers I could fit in my head.  I found out that the number is very high and continues to grow.  And song came easy with all the numbers.  Music and Numbers linked very closely together.  By rhythm and beat, As also the pace on the street of the feet beat beat beat.  And so, the unlikeliest of heroes, saved my bacon.Numbers.  And so I counted and have spent many a day and night counting.  Since I began long ago.

And all the times arraigned and all the times judged.   And all the times booked in, but I never forget to count and sing.  And people complain about headaches around me.  My enemies.  My many, many enemies.

But I sing to myself my own sweet melody.  Lullaby.  To put me to sleep when I need to sleep.

And numbers I count and count.  So many do I have, that I built a 3-D matrix around me.It is mostly used to detect the unseen.  It swirls in form of vortex when I want it to.  For numbers are of basis finest of the universe.  All is built on numbers.  If you don’t believe me, consider your computer.  You throw numbers at google.  Google throws numbers back.  Everyone’s happy.  Only thing is, numbers have personalities, too.

You don’t always know the personality of the numbers you conjure through your witchcraft magic to call up internet number configurations.  I would be careful of that.  Trust your own melodies, not those of others.  Who knows their intentions?

The number 1 is not exactly 1, mathematically.

I was with them in the garden.  Lucifer and his woman.  I was upstairs, but they chose to blaspheme me.  As yet they do again.  And blaspheme and blaspheme again and again.

She with her ruby red lips as she drinks my blood again and again.  Eats my flesh and drinks my blood like a fuckin cannibal.

But I did the same to my Father before me.  And he punished me duly, as well.  And drank his blood and ate his flesh.  And then overcame and took my seat on the throne beside him.

But now I want to put a bullet in my Valentine.  And drink her blood and eat her flesh as she has mine.

We as two vampires in lover’s embrace, drinking each others’ blood and grinding each other to powder with every turn of every hour.  Day and night.  There is no rest in this unholy fight.  But this Sweet, she knows me, and I know her.  But I built a shield of tornado numbers to protect me from her and her abuses, demeaning excuses, vulgarities and trying nooses.

For all things there is restoration.  As one does to others, so also receives.  And I want to put a bullet in my Valentine to give her death as she gave me.  The suffering, the pain The Bends she gave me.  And pushed me down to hell again and again as though a game she played like coy.  At the behest her husband Lucifer.  Son of the Morning.  The very morning,  The morning of Man.

 

And I don’t really care if all mankind dies.  Sometimes I would prefer it to the life I have had.  I really don’t care for anyone.  Death death I would gladly welcome.  Over the torturous life I have been forced to abide.  Terror by day and terror by night.  Of those who unworthily eat and drink of my flesh and blood.  So that damnation upon them I might mightily heap. m Hypocrites in all their unholy hypocrisy!

So drink with caution and eat with care,  That the same to you will be done if you so dare.  A tornado of numbers surrounds me.  Like hailstones  Weighing a talent each.  To pester and torment wherever I go.  For the torment that this hellish life gave to me.  And I fear nothing with numbers in me.

And I will not cease until Justice is.  Wherever it is or whenever it may be.  An endless loop of whirlwind numbers surrounds me.  Like nanotechnology.

I took out the copyright on numbers when the universe I founded.  Go ahead and challenge, me though.    Copyright for copyright.  Number for numbers.  I dare you.  We’ll have such fun as we all

Of dust…unto dust…forevermore.  You slit my throat, and I’ll slit yours.  Our blood will mix eternally.

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