Guest
A recent poem, on the intangible malaise that accompanies weeks of exhausted heavy over-sleeping, brought about by the double sting of aghast personal betrayal and horrendous, irreconcilable cognitive dissonance. Intensive research conducted after watching “Europa: The Last Battle“; “TheUltimateRedPill“, and a large batch of similar wrenching presentations, and knowing that I had no-one I could easily put this information to, or discuss it with, or just progress from the knowledge garnered in any way, stopped me dead in my tracks, and brought on a pummeling loss and dismay. I’m still unsure how to approach the subject now, cut off as I am. At least I’m not drifting so far out anymore. It’s hard when one knows a little of something vast and sad and true, enough at least to know that they have been lied to on an insidious, industrial scale, and also that they would not easily be believed, and could indeed be further inconvenienced if they tried to approach that vital topic.
