It's Always Been a Death Trap
- Thad McKraken

- Mar 30
- 4 min read

3/25/2026 –
Three blocks of red and orange code load themselves into my spirit in a state of hypnagogic bliss. They kind of look like arty graphs honestly. As I pull out of this I’m thinking:
“Hmm, yeah, they can kind of just load code into me at this point, can’t they? I mean, it has to be loaded on this level of reality but they created the remote connection. It comes into me from above and then loads directly into the skin world matrix. Fascinating stuff."
Later it’s like I’m a player having a conversation with this GM dude. He’s telling me that a decade ago he would have gotten fired for drafting me. Now he’d get fired if he didn’t draft me. I just looked too reckless and unpredictable. What everyone realizes now is that what looked like untamable mercuriality, was actually me being somehow so good at what I do that no one could even comprehend that it was possible.
There’s also talk about how I’m dealing with the fact that this is essentially my last season. Hard for me to grasp down here as it’s the only season I remember honestly but yeah. That is what they told me. If it gets me out of this hell world forever, deep down, I am sure I am fucking serene.
3/26/2026 –
In a meditation sesh I’m told of:
“The beach”
Cool. I can go tomorrow. I think moreover this is telling me I should in fact work out tonight as I was on the fence due to a fading illness.
I’m later shown this awesome tall jagged rock maze on a slender beachside much like the one I live right next to. I can somehow tell that the gloriously jagged maze is nearly impossible to navigate and I’m told as much intuitively. It sure does look fucking cool though.
“Harmony”
I’m told next. Yup, without the harmony of the 3 levels of spirit working in tandem, there’s basically no escape from this shit world crab planet. They’ve told me this a million times but it’s never terrible to re-iterate. Most people don’t get it as is.
3/27/2026 –
In this ganj-i-tation trance it’s like I’m in a king’s court type situation and I’m the wise advisor type dude to God. I don’t know who we’re talking to but I interject and God immediately stands up passionately raising his hand in the air.
“Well that is weird!!!”
See. Dude’s got my back. I tried to tell y’all. Our god is an awesome God and here’s he’s goddamn spectacular. God as the master wizard. The fit is off the fucking charts. Cosmic glitter future 70’s art rock musical extravagance cloakage. The powers radiating around him too. All vibrant colors mixed with galactic sparkle magick. I mean, sure, it’s a bearded white guy (not that old either) but as far as bearded white guys go, he’s the apex of godhead excellence.
I’m later given a sigil to project. On it. To the skies.
Later while meditating I concede that yes. I choose to be the queen of shamans. I came all this way, I mean. Why the fuck not? I’m in.
Then a dream where I’m hanging out with Jennifer Love Hewitt. We’re in this room with several other people and it’s like we used to date. She’s being very flirty with me and there’s this other guy in the corner who also used to date her. I feel like I’m making him jealous even though like, they’ve been broken up for a while. It feels like forever since I dated her too.
Anyway, eventually she sits down on my lap and is like touching my arm when she tells me that I used to constantly step on her toes. I have no idea what she’s getting at, but she mentions that I used to wear tight shirts back then.
I’m still not entirely getting it and I’m like:
“Well yeah. I was single and trying to get laid. Women like muscles. It absolutely works.”
I think I maybe get it.
Then a vision of this piece of paper.
“Worlds from within”
Bubble up into it. OK then.
Now I’m walking on the sidewalk outside the Safeway near my house. I’m walking with some friends and some other dudes are walking by and we hear them talking. The one guy’s arguing that a Dodge Challenger is a car only a drummer or bassist would drive.
I hear this and turn around to my crew like:
“Did you hear that?”
And I’m almost heading back to go argue with the bro, which would be hilarious but that’s about where the dream cuts out.
While meditating a bit down the road I’m told about how our world has too much gravity. Can everyone fly in most other worlds? Spiritually I think the answer is absolutely yes.
Then some contemplation on how the Native American ghost dancers were playing the long game. Let the Wetiko win. If it gets bad enough, it’ll summon the psychic speed warriors of the Galactic Council. Capitalism was a death trap. It’s always been a death trap.



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