Once you see how pretty much everything is a captured or controlled op, I find there is a kind of numbness that creeps over you. Most of society and culture feels irrelevant or ridiculous. Those under the spell inhabit confined mental spaces you can’t climb back inside. Participation in everyday rituals is all done with detachment through the filter of greater perception of symbols and agendas. It’s all a whacky dream.
We are under siege.
Siege by its nature is long, drawn out and numbing.
It feels like Ragnarock is a slow, creeping icing over of all, not a wild storm.
We fight by refusing to give in to the creeping propaganda. We are promised Summer, but the ice age continues to move towards us, calving yet more fields of lies and hate.
We become cold inside, breathing the propaganda crystals every day, feeling our hearts icing over, but, still we fight, still refuse to be wholly consumed by it, our WILL is our strength... our refusal to bend.
The warrior in us cannot be bowed.
I think we can see the sun beginning to creep over the frozen horizon...
The House votes on income tax, the net closing on Biden, Twitter singing, normies rubbing their eyes and blinking at that bright thing in the distance...
I stand on the parapet, awaiting the next wave of propaganda, I know there are those like me, like you, standing there too, and the sun is rising, slowly, a little more each day
