It’s much easier to buy the little pop bangs that you throw down and take the powder out of them than it is to extract it out of a capgun roll, MacGyver. Remind me not to partner up with you after the madmax apocalypse when black powder becomes as precious as gasoline.
I’ll remind you prom. =)
Pop-it’s deal with crystals. I used to the same thing with them as well as gun powder with cap guns.
It’s amazing I’m still alive on so many levels.
When you have a stack of pop-it’s that over a pound. That can kill you.
When I messed with these materials I did get seething burns in my hands and forearms
Shows interest in explosives and incendiary materials at a young age. Check.
That’s really funny.
I had a friend named Josh Orr who was a couple grades older than me who taught me how to make bombs out of piccolo Pete’s in his garage.
It’s fun to do. You modify them and light them under a coffee can and watch the coffee can shoot up in the air like a rocket ship.
I don’t think Josh or I have any mechanizations in this species.
It’s totally innocuous.
I’ll tell you by best memory if Josh Orr.
We played a game. It was waiting for the bus in a cold crisp February day.
We were 1 story up on a staircase.
The game was he’d spit first and I’d try to hit his spit with my next spit.
Neither of of us won the game.
But it was beauty and I’ll always remember that.
I’ll add to this.
I used to trust Jesus, the Buddha, the pope and the lamas. I used to trust in Vishnu Shiva and Krishna.
They broke my trust.
Now I’m here more powerful than all of them. I don’t want to use it. I just want to be dead
I’ll tell you the story more concisely.
I was 32 years old. Had already resurrected myself when I was 21 from natural causes.
I walked into a coffee shop one day.
All the people there were angels and cosmic beings.
They poisoned my coffee.
When I went out to have a cigarette death opened the door for me, he said it will.all be over in a few hours. That’s not a normal thing a stranger would say!
So I walked back in and sat with Fred for almost 3 hours. I was shivering, but cold doesn’t bother me.
I passed my wallet knowing I was about to die and he passed it back to me.
I walked out the coffee shop to walk to my apartment and a spirit so powerful punched ground caused an earthquake and said NO!
And here we are
What I said the first or second time you talked to me about Fred… Scratch that. I went back and read your old posts. You mentioned something about them back in 2015. He isn’t a recent literary device.
How do/did you know the shapeshifter was Fred? How were they different and how were they the same? What was going on and why did they shape shift—and how? Tech? Alien DNA? Does he work for the CIA? Did he tell you that he did?
In other versions of the story, it was another spirit or thunderous soul who possessed you, not you yourself, who did this. Why do you think your story has changed?
The beatitudes
parable of Lazarus and the rich man
already passed from death to life (whole passage)
P.s. …with the above in mind, how am I supposed to unread this?…
How delusional romances are born.
Don’t mind me. It’ll pass.
The only thing I can do to explain Fred is to do a memory overlap life review.
It was my oversoul that came back into my human form.
It could have been Jesus or me.
Sometimes I get the two mixed up.
All of this will seem very strange to you unless you actually see my life
Above and beyond that.
I have a cat who’s a cosmic being.
She protects me.
The name I gave her is Misty.
You’ll see. I’ll live all your lives if you live mine.
It’s only fair.
I’ve seen Fred shapeshift many times.
I’ve even see him shapeshift me.
You’ll see. Fred never expected me to survive.
I’ll add to this.
Fred was satan disguised as god.
Infinite power. Infinite knowledge.
But he never saw me coming.
Satan ruled my whole life.
But couldn’t kill me. Even as he rotted my soul and sent me to parallel universes to try to isolate me.
I kept coming back.
Satan doesn’t know how I do it.
That’s when satan became my friend
Above posts as well.
What Satan didn’t understand is that I leave my life in the hands of everyone.
Satan can’t beat that.
Wanna bet? Oh no, scratch that.
I remember I was recently having a conversation with my female therapist
She said to me
How do you think that makes me feel for you to call me a robot?
I could have won the debate, but I didn’t say it.
I’ll say it here.
How do you think it makes me feel that you’re not having sex with me right now?
.
Are you a [recovering] sex addict?
You’re kinda giving off that vibe, and your therapist should ditch you.
I’m a hyper sexual hetero sexual.
That’s not uncommon.
What’s uncommon is that I understand everyone.
And I hold the boundaries.
.
If you say so
Let me add to this mag.
Apparently my soul is being fought for by gods.
I’m not giving it to them.
I’ve had every job in the cosmos.
They’re starting to figure it out.
I don’t want to dominate you maj
I want you to be your sassy self