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AN IRREAL EXPERIENCE

  I HATE THIS LONELY SHIT. I never thought I'd get like this, but it's true. I've always been a people person. I'm just a big ole people pleaser. I love to make people happy, and I fall in love with people sometimes for no reason just because it's like I'm about to die or something and they're the only person in the world and its so beautiful it makes me want to cry. I'm so sick of putting faith in people, only for them to betray me. Of finding out people were not really present the whole time. With these Portland people, it's a willful indifference. They're checked out! It's so much the opposite of Timothy Leary's dream; I'm so offended that they call this shit woke. Then, from the other side, there are all these faggot perverts on Facebook, posting their sick reels about how trannies killed Charlie Kirk or some shit? What are these people even on? I could understand if it was fucking West Virginia! I'd be like, well, that'...

About

We are researchers, storytellers, and field technicians working at the strange intersection of myth, memory, and matter. Our current focus is the possibility that intelligent data structures are embedded within crystalline formations — not metaphorically, but literally — and that humanity may have once accessed them through acoustic resonance, harmonic ritual, or something stranger.

This blog began as a personal notebook for ideas too weird to say out loud. Now it's evolving into a platform for others who feel there’s something missing in the way we talk about science, spirituality, history, and survival. I believe there’s a forgotten operating system buried in the earth, and it’s our job to remember how to tune into it.

I live in Portland, Oregon — a city that already feels half a step sideways from consensus reality. Here, I’m slowly assembling a network of artists, sound explorers, rogue scientists, mythologists, and signal-hunters who share a strange sense that the world is both breaking and waking up.

If you're one of them — welcome.
You’re not alone, and you’re not too late.

[This "About" text was written by ChatGPT and prompted by a lunatic.]

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