Everything is Now Properly Juiced

11/16/2025 –

There is this robot woman. Metallic with a perfect protrusion of tied up blonde hair hanging out of the topside of her blocky head. It’s living in this magick translucent parentheses type dimension. This world is more ethereal and there’s something about the wife robot’s programming that just doesn’t work here and instead sputters out into “does not compute” territory.

The vision now warps out to the next, higher level of reality, that’s bracketed by these magick parentheses. Yup, there’s something in the robot’s programming that errors out here too. I can see an image of the code bombing above the metallic wifebot’s head. On the next level behind the parenthesis, it’s the same thing. Something’s off with the code here too. This reality also feels astral and a bit in the distance. Above and beyond.

I’m not sure how many more realms we go to where her code’s always broken before it focuses down into the bottom level of this reality. The skin world. She looks like a human here. Savage masking. There is nothing off with her in this place. In fact, she kills. All the programming epically works down here. I’m pretty sure that’s the point.  

11/17/2025 –

I’m starting my new job. There are all these translucent bubbles crackling in the cubicle farm/office environment I’m now looking at. I have a bit of anxiety about these crackling bubbles as I know they represent work I need to do and I’m new at my job.

Now a vision of this giant blonde woman kissing me with my back to the cubicle farm. Thousands of cartoon kisses are exploding from our mouths as we joyfully embrace. I now look back at the translucent bubbles. They are being filled one by one by the flying cartoon hearts we created. Everything is now properly juiced.

Now a vision of a person I believe is myself in the back corner of the cube farm. I am an eternal face on a bronze metallic coin. Money.    

11/18/2025 -   

I’m in this white walled educational complex type thing. I’m walking back to my room when I realize that not only is there a bar right next to my pad but some people I know are heading in to bullshit currently. Fuck, should I be getting out more? I mean, it’s right there.

I decide the answer to this is no and head in to catch a nap. It not only feels glorious when I wake up but there’s this black mist cube energy I’m picking up on at the far side of the facility. It’s blissing me out but I’m still wondering if I should have been drunkenly networking. There’s a twinge of guilt there but nah, the black mist energy bliss is superior. I can see plans within plans.

The next thing I know I’m in this odd environment that sort of reminds me of a DMV. I walk in the front door and to the right, where I meet up with this woman and her 2 kids. The whole vibe is very 1980’s for some reason. Puffy hair galore.

The kids are playing with accounting software and I’m like:

“I probably shouldn’t, but I’m going to let you process an entire ap check run in our live environment.”

I’m watching over their shoulder. They won’t fuck it up. The woman leaves the kids with me but eventually this other guy comes and just takes them from me. Right off my lap. What in the absolute fuck?

He’s whisking them off to the other side of the place and I start confronting him. He won’t relent so I start aggressively pushing him. Also, we both suddenly seem to turn into the same tall balding bad combover 80’s sweater dude.

I eventually attack the abductor guy and he’s immobilized on the office floor. It’s like he’s turned into a mannequin. Here’s where it gets intriguing:

Was taking this guy down and stopping the abduction the right thing to do? I legit don’t know. I saw a situation and I reacted but I do not know the whole story. You see a kid getting taken and you just spring into action, you know? I legit have no clue if I did the right thing or not and neither do any of the many witnesses. We’re all contemplating it collectively.

In the next vision I’m sitting next to Layne Staley at a crowded stadium show. We’ve got decent seats but not too great. Eventually there’s a shout out over the loud speaker.

“Hey everyone! Layne Staley has gotten sober.”

There are only a small smattering of cheers from around the stadium. We then both look at the logjam in front of the stage awaiting the headliner. I tap him on the leg twice:

“Get used to it man.”

Nobody’s going to cheer you on for getting boring. That’s for sure.

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