They Taste like Hate

2/9/2026 –

Here I get super deep. Ganj-i-tation heaven with that thick black weight to it. These are the old gods from the secret depths of the ocean. They’ve been controlling our dreams. Mine in particular and I think they mean both our literal dreams and this entire realm I call the skin world. Things are going to get increasingly fucked.

I’m shown shit about psi and sports. Gotta get that momentum. Gotta catch that wave. That rising inertia.

Down the road in another trance I’m told we’re essentially a crop and a lot of us have a very peculiar taste. They:

“Taste like hate.”

And they’re going to get culled because of it. Burn baby burn!!!

2/10/2026 –

I’m told that I need to learn to slow my mind better. Yes. This is entirely true. I’m on it.

Now I’m in like one of those hot tubs in the back of a limo but there is no hot tub or limo. I have no idea what the fuck is going on but this one dude I’ve known for years is in it with me but like, I’m also not even in it somehow. I’m looking at the other two dude’s bodies though and they’re not bad. Not great bodies but at this point in their lives, I genuinely expected worse. Way to keep it totally OK my friends. Slightly exceeding expectations.

Later a vision of a contract. You sign at the bottom but I’m jokingly going:

“See this part where what you’re signing up for is burning down the world? I’m thinking that should be like a much bigger section of this thing. Not this tiny little sentence before the signature but like a sizable thick black marker highlighted block before the signature. I’d maybe emphasize that us you’re signing up for involves helping old gods burn down the world. You should probably be aware of that.”

2/11/2026 –

I have a vision of this used car on a lot. It makes no sense but there’s like a huge middle section of the thing that’s made up of like Bud Light boxes. Like, what I’m looking at makes no logical sense at all. Doesn’t look like a car but I’m like:

“Yep. Yep. The whole section made of cardboard Bud Light packaging should have been a sign.”

I’m later essentially shown that this has something to do with my wife, which tracks.

A bit down the road I now have a vision of this woman with some kind of neurological disorder who’s talking to these two other unidentified people who seem slightly older than her. She’s showing off her prized puppers and when she mentions that one of them is getting old, you can feel it in their minds. It’s going to be particularly hard on her when he passes because her condition. That’s what they’re chatting about as they’re walking away and I’m thinking they’re right.

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