“The controllers have created an illusion of need. And we have fallen for it hook line and sinker.”
“They can only ply their trade if they have a steady supply of ‘sick’ and dying people – i.e. you and me, the more broken and sick people they have, the more profit they make giving you the runaround disguised as tests, diagnostics, re-tests, guess-work, then finally they flip a coin and prescribe a drug - whilst in their mind’s eye they are anticipating that free blow job as they lie inebriated in their pharmaceutical holiday haven, Disney Druggie-land Inc; with all expenses paid care of DRUGSRU.com.”
By now Osiris’s was feeling the blood rush out of his right arm, there was a fullness and pain in the ears, he could the hear thedropin pressure as the fetid air was released through his Eustachian tube – like the hiss of the background radiation from the birth pangs of the universe whichis rotating within it’s magnetic bubble as he was rotating in his mental bubblemoment by moment.
The voice returned only now it sounded like the warm dry breeze entwined within a fragrance of musk gently playing over the baked dry sand-dunes of a Sumerian Sunset.
“It’s NOT in their interest to CURE ANYONE OF ANYTHING – so they chant their mantra as they laugh all the way to the bank with YOUR MONEY – leaving you dying for their cures”.
“Meanwhile the Holy Wood cardinals create the movie dream states for us to inhabit during our meager free time, hoisting the placard “You have freedom of choice!!” and soothing your addled brain with their hypnotic slogans “You get what you deserve!!” while behind the curtain of Maya they spoof up banal hollow thespians, as idols for us to worship. “Yo Yo YoSchwartz-e-nigga for president!!!!”
“Strange irony, in the land of the dead braves and the home of the under-classes.”
The thoughts continued to flow within multiple streams of meaning.
Wordsworth stepped up to the plate, there was a roar in the crowded stands and then a deafening silence followed.
A face devoid ofeyes and flesh turns and stares at Osiris. The face sweaty and cold begins to speak…..
The voice stopped but like the final fuge in bach’s “The Art of Fuge” it somehow still continued………in Osiris’s head.