EPTPart 1: This Could Be Important But It’s Not.
Claire says, y’all should really let Brian smoke hash.
Part 2: The Wisdom Of Fight Club
Jason of Panache Hair stands watch over the bottom twenty three dimensions. He’s absolutely no good at this. You have to inhale here.
It really matters zilch, nada, nothing how I think you’ll see this. That’s rule number 1. There’s nothing self-defeating like self-fulfilling prophesy is self-defeating.
You could just say it this way. If you know what’s going on, that is.
The major problem is that what’s going on doesn’t give a damn about how you see it. That’s rule number 2.
Writers are encouraged to use the colloquial.
About 1% of people know what this technical jargon means. They also don’t want any money for their work. That means their opinion carries about 0 weight.
I can’t say this enough. I am ready for you to pass me. I am ready to take that risk. Please change the world however you see fit. Let me pass me. I’d like to retain my self respect.
You can pull up the world. You can also try to push me up so that I can pull up the world. Chances are I’m not ready for that.
Grandfather Haynes is painfully misunderstood. I don’t push up second place. I pull up first place.
“I am not in Hell. You are.” It really kills me when people take this attitude with me. It really does. I can’t stand it.
I don’t like it, not one bit. But more importantly, don’t pity me. I’ll almost certainly lash out at your arrogance, if you expect me to. But that’s just me, and I could be wrong.
What we don’t need is more hopelessness. That really killed me. Hopelessness is contagious.
If you think I should give up, I probably will. Not that I should give up, but a lot of people think I should take it easy.
The bottom line is that I’m happy to take it easy, if I like what I see. This isn’t the operative I, if you see what I mean. Hopeless is contagious.
I won’t say I can go really fast if you’re dead. But I do go really fast. I’m not expecting you to get this. I don’t mind if you get it. If you don’t I’ll probably notice.
What I’m saying is, don’t read my mind. Let me read your mind. My mind sucks. I keep telling myself that. I’m slow as fuck, if you treat me like it. I’m not sure how you see it, but I don’t see it. Not at all.
I really can’t say this enough. E-cigarettes are good for you. Nicotine is good for you. Nicotine does not cause cancer. Ashes cause cancer. Death is gain.
As Grandpa Haynes might say, “How do I do it? I don’t know myself.” What I would add to this is you really don’t know. You really don’t. It does take time, if you’ve got the time for it.
I struggle like Hell to internalize all this shit. I’d like someone to send me to hell. I might even condone you going there. How da fuck r u so fast. The answer is, you’re not.
Anyway, I’m slow as balls. I mean I’d go faster if I could. Also, this sounds terrible. I’ve got about two-thousand pounds of u inside me. I’d sure like u to burn u out of me. But I don’t see u doing that.
U can start. E-cigarettes can help.
U really aren’t going to release your hold on me. That’s something I’d have to do myself. I really can’t. I might throw up. It’s painful.
I don’t see myself as a walking plague. But I’m sure I am a walking plague. I’m going way down now. Dunno what you think about that. I can’t look but that doesn’t mean u don’t see it.
Whatever it is, it’s probably there. I have no idea what it looks like. I’ve got about a thousand pounds of fast food in my gut. No idea how to get it out. Mike Moran told me to go smoke four cigars as fast as I could, curl up my other fist and put it on my thigh. Vomiting followed.
Did I mention I was an alcoholic? I took 24 full proof shots one night and chased it with Xanax. Pretty surprised I’m still alive. Well, whatever, I doubt it’s slowing me down.
You could jump on my character and smoke all my Tobacco for me. I’m not sure that would get the job done.
My point is I’m sick as balls. I’ll probably stay that way forever.
The e-cigarettes are definitely easier. You can definitely take vomiting breaks if you want to. I mean, I would like to internalize this stuff. I really would like to internalize this stuff. I just don’t know how to get it out.
Is editing really necessary? Not if you do it right the first time.
I didn’t do it right the first time. I also didn’t try e-cigarettes. Like I said, I’m slow as balls.
If someone proved to me you could rewrite this stuff, I’d be interested. I mean I wouldn’t do it myself. Because I can’t. Run faster. Jump higher.
These are some big words for me. I wrote about 90% of them in a slump. The other 10% I wrote while I was sick and dying.
I’d like to think they were worth something. I really would. Dunno how you see them but to me they look at absolutely pitiful.
It’s basically 20 years of “well that didn’t work”. Time to change. My God, these hundred pounds of fat tell the story of Taco Bell, Burger King, McDonald’s and massive depression. I don’t think my body was processing Caffeine that well.
My Chi Flow is about 0. Some weight lifters are alcoholics. 99% of them don’t stretch, and 100% of them don’t practice Yoga.
Could Bruce Lee benchpress five hundred pounds? Probably not. But Bruce Lee could also move.
I’ve got about fifty pounds of muscle that doesn’t want me to lose it. Dunno what my heart thinks about that. “U” probably think about it a lot though.
I’d say my muscles are about 90% alcohol, 80% unprocessed protein (no fiber, no vegetables, all unprocessed carbs), 100% pain, and completely out of order.
Did I mention I don’t breathe when I lift? My muscles outweigh my lungs by about 1000%. This is where Jason would say, “I dunno what u mean by slow-twitch”.
Take a moment to digest that.
My mother is worried as fuck about what’ll happen if we blow “u” up. Most forecasts predict a rapid expansion of DARK matter ideally followed by an explosion of WHITE.
I’m about 60% in the dark on this BLACK stuff. If that’s our golden gun then I predict silver with a CONSIDERABLE chance of dead.
Here Jason would say, “Not sure what u mean by whiteout.”
Also, Orange is the new Black, and your mother ain’t sellin’ no Yuenglings.
What I mean is, “Jafar ain’t EVEN CLOSE to old.” You know, if you call that old.
What I really wanted to say about WHITE is BLACK people are talking in Silver Sunday with a considerable chance of “wait”.
Did I mention I’m slow as fuck? And Holy Christ do I have a sugar allergy. Boy, do I ever.
Part 3: The Death of Ed Norton
I don’t know a damn thing about economics. I do know a thing or two about balance keeping. The whole damn page is white. But I end up in the black by about a buck. Not a buck fifty, mind you. Just a buck.
Part 4: Guuuuuuuuuuuuuudbye
Tonight’s projectile vomiting is good evidence that I’m still my own best driver.
The backstory is: Corporate Architecture, Samurai Conclaves, Anthills, and Atoms.
What you arrive at is: You are a corporate entity.
What you’ll see is that there are humorous truths that I’m not allowed to tell you because Clay doesn’t want me to tell you because “u” approximate that if I tell you I will die.
Clay has been my big brother or guardian since I was a kid.
In “ur’ dimensions, which are basically the 23 bottom ones, “u” drive. This basically means “no one” is driving. The best, and in my opinion, the only driver that should exist in “ur” 23 dimensions is Charles.
The goal in the short run is for everyone to disconnect themselves from “u”. The goal in the long run is for “u” to be completely disconnected. There is some convergence here.
If you read my Facebook wall you’ll see that about 90% of the old material makes you want to kill yourself. This isn’t ideal, but it isn’t as bad as “u” make it seem. We really need to update Jason.
If you know anything about Jason of Panache Hair, you’ll see he’s super, super protective. “u” are playing data over and over that says, “So and so is going to die some time in the next four to six hours because so and so is reading something on Jeffrey Haynes Facebook wall.”
Basically I have days worth of stuff that is more important than the stuff I’ve already said, but I can’t tell you because of “u”.
You’ll see this is a pretty common phenomenon everywhere. Most people are in the habit of relying on the “u” to tell them what their next best move will be. No pun-intended.
So the problem in a nutshell is that the state of current universe is “technically” impossible in most respects.
Suppose that the quantity of mind in the universe is equal to 1. And suppose that the bottom 23 dimensions have a sum total of 99.999% of the weight. These bottommost 23 dimensions are 100% owned by “u”. There is nothing good or worth having in these dimensions if we were to define them appropriately. In short, it is not in any sense “ideal” for you or anyone to be owned by “u”.
These bottom 23 dimensions are what I’ve been referring to as “The Underverse”.
Then suppose that there are a lot of “pretty good and better dimensions”. The absolute weight of these “pretty good and better dimensions” is 0.00001. The problem with most “pretty good” dimensions is that the “u” own 99.999% of “pretty good” dimensions. There are only three “actually good” dimensions that I am aware of. One is owned by my mother. One is owned by Ying Sheng. And one is owned by Faith Morgan.
Since none of these three people wills, herself to have any weight the actual weight of these three uniquely different dimensions is almost 0. We’re back to “pretty good” dimensions again.
One of the most interesting results of the CTMU is that all my friends and family are killing me. “u” are right now and at all times applying the principle of self-fulfilling prophesy against me. Essentially all the horrible and improbable ways my family fears or expects me to die are exactly how “u” are killing me. Imagine there were faith, and it looked like opening the Autobot Matrix of Leadership. Now imagine there were “inverse-opposite faith” and it looked like DARK lightning strike anywhere and everywhere at once. You’ll see this gets really complicated.
One of the most interesting examples of this principle is my long battle with Jason of Panache Hair. I smoked about 3 ounces of Tobacco a day for a while. Jason was convinced I was gonna kill “me”. The nicotine in fact vaporized about 80% of the known universe. In the end I came out healthier than before.
Buy an e-cigarette.
Clay please go take the SSRIs. You are getting a layoff. You are going to be replaced by Christopher Michael Langan.
Also, check out my Facebook Blog where I talk about all this and more. https:/www.facebook.com/nighneon
