Roll. Then Stop. And drop. It is a TL;DR.

There is SO much to this, which I've personally underwent and experieced and met with people who are in some manner or another involved. I will reveal ALL OF IT. With EVIDENCE. It was also said to me that I am feared by a particular - although minority - in complete control of everything. I mean it feels like we have free-will doesn't it? It is astonishing. Actually, related to this on the matter of free-will. I do have it, once I am finished, ALL of life will. A free and beautiful future where reason dictates motive and we have within us the essence or very substance which distinguishes us, perhaps (1). I do not know of other organisms consciousness nor its character in its sentience, or of its functioning on a psychological level. (1) This is humanity. In today's world, there exists primarily "humans". They know nothing beyond what their "government" has told to them, through whichever of the available public channels commonly subscribed to or disseminated by in whichever or however means, and fed into the common man's perceptions. My Book of course, the one titled "The NOTES!" I wrote actually without any former plans in doing any such type of thing. I had no idea what it would turn out to be. It just began, in-fact, because I wished to express my long-standing idea of a perfect rehabilitation centre to reform a "human" back into one. This is evident in the wording which I've used in the section describing this rehabilitation facility. It says there, something along the lines of "And now finally, I describe the rehabilitation facility which this document's sole purpose was to describe." It just so happens to be a very beneficial psychoactive feature of methamphetamine in its capability or role and active involvement in or of the inspiring the mind. I do enjoy to say that methamphetamine is everything which the body needs, claiming that it sustains the body, inspires the mind, and invigorates the soul. Whatever a soul is. I suppose when I say this word, I use it to refer to our complete 'self' or being. Well ... so ... it was only planned to be a short description of this rehabilitation facility, but owing to the 300mg of absolutely fire fucking gear (methamphetamine) which I'd administered via injection into the vascular system (IV) prior to even opening my word processing software, well ... it turned out to be a HELL OF A LOT MORE THAN THAT.

With all of this being said, I will end the so called "divine" ... to my knowledge there exist six to eight members. Irrespective of this, there are many and much more people involved. Though to what I've been capable of ascertaining they are of a lower "rank" or standing in this so-called "divine" shit storm. Here's the names of the people.


Now ... As with what happened in the scenario above, involving Aaliya and Szimi... There's been other impersonators as I would refer to them as. My life has been quite severely fucked up. I swear - there is no sense of doubt within my knowing that I'd have developed the theoretical basis for this means of traversing the cosmos by means of the manipulation of our perceived perception of time at a time far earlier than now.

Anyway ...


There also exists this brief document which I wrote out initially, quite some while ago now.
And this one, the one linked to directly above, which I never did complete although it still provides far, far greater detail than the one linked to above.

Regarding this document linked to directly above, there is a lyric from a song by Arlo Guthrie, which explains the feeling I get on the way that it was written and etc. The song which I speak of is titled "The Motorcycle Song", and it is quite amusing.

All of a sudden by accident
A string broke off my guitar
It broke you know right there
Went flying across the road that way
Wrapped itself around a yield sign
Well the sign didn't break
It didn't come out the ground
And the string stayed wrapped around it
Stayed in the other end of my guitar
Held onto my guitar with one hand
I held onto the bike with the other


I made a sharp turn off the road
Luckily I didn't go into the mountain
I went over the cliff
I was doin' 150 miles an hour sideways
And 500 feet down at the same time
Hey, I was lookin' for the cops
Cuz' you know
Hey I knew that it, it was illegal

I only just realised upon reviewing my recent updates that I posted another passage from the track which was not the one I had intended.
THESE are the lines from the lyrics which I was meaning to show;

I knew it was the end. I looked down, I said ''Wow! Some
trip". I thought it...well I knew it was...I knew it was my last
trip, and in my last remaining seconds in world,I decided
to write one last farewell song to the world.
Put a new ink cartridge in my pen. Took out a piece of paper.
I sat back and I thought awhile. Then I started writin':
I don't want a pickle
Just want to ride on my motorsickle
And I don't want a tickle
'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorsickle
And I don't want to die
Just want to ride on my motorcy ...cle."
I knew that, it wasn't the best song l ever wrote, but I didn't
have time to change it. I was comin' down mighty fast.
But as you all know, and as fate would have it, I didn't die. I
landed on the top of a police car. And it died. I drove away
on the road that he was on. I came into town at a screamin'
175 miles an hour, playin' the motorcycle song.



Here's a video featuring Arlo Guthrie performing this track.