Journal entry #2

With all the chaos in the world, I have to say that tonight was a win.

It started with a bowling outing for my uncle and granddad’s birthday. The experience wasn’t perfect—the food was terrible, cold, and the place smelled like sewage. On top of that, the lanes shut down as soon as our two hours were up, and we couldn’t even finish the final round. Oh, and it cost $53 for those two hours. Still, despite all of that, being with my family made everything feel perfect.

I was spending money like I didn’t have bills to pay—bills I’m barely making enough to cover—but nothing compares to the value of time spent with family. They’ll never know how deeply I feel about them, but I love them so much.

After bowling, I headed straight to a hookah lounge to meet up with my friends. I wasn’t exactly dressed for the occasion—just jeans and a casual top from earlier—but I didn’t mind. Spending time with people I love was more important than worrying about what I had on.

When I got there, my friends were in the middle of an argument. It happens sometimes, but I like to think I helped lighten the mood. By the end of the night, everyone was vibing, including some strangers from the sections next to us.

As I sat there taking it all in, I couldn’t help but reflect. Places like this always remind me of who I used to be—someone constantly seeking attention and validation from men. I used to think dressing provocatively was empowering, but it often left me feeling the opposite. Now, I’m intentional about how I present myself, and I understand that the energy I give off plays a big part in the kind of attention I attract.

Don’t get me wrong—I’m all for women dressing however they want. But I’ve learned that what I wear and how I carry myself directly tie into what I’m looking for. I know some women might not agree, but for me, dressing with more intention has helped me focus on what truly matters. It’s no longer about who’s looking at me but about how I feel about myself.

At the end of the day, I had a great time with my family and friends. For a moment, it made me forget about all the evil in the world. And for that, I’m truly grateful.

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Journal Entry #1

I wasn’t going to write this tonight. I thought I could wait until tomorrow. But I can’t. I’m angry. So angry. Angry at myself. Angry at the world. Angry that I’m the only one around me who feels this way.

I’m angry at the state of things. At how people just stand by, watching the world burn. Everyone’s too afraid to make a change, too comfortable to push back. Why do I feel like I’m screaming into a void? And I’m not saying there isn’t anyone out there willing to stand up, I’m just saying my sphere of people appears to be lacking the motivation. I see people pushing back and then I see some of those same people eventually folding.

And then there’s me. I’m angry at myself, too. Why can’t I think things through? Why do I keep letting this anger take hold? But maybe it’s not about thinking things through right now. Maybe it’s just about feeling something real in a world that’s become numb.

Did we mess up so badly in another life that we’re stuck in this mess now? Did we make some mistake we can’t fix? I don’t know anymore. All I know is I’m angry. Angry that we’re separated when we should be uniting. Angry that fear is controlling us.

I’m not radical. I’m not extreme. Though I’ve had thoughts about setting fire to every corporation that donated money to project 2025. I just want to fight for what’s right. I want to stand up for people, for humanity. But no one else seems to care enough. They’d rather stay silent, stay afraid, stay stuck in this system that’s slowly suffocating us all. And while they may applaud me from their couches, their actions would have been more valuable.

Maybe I’ll stand alone in this fight. Maybe I’ll be thrown in jail or end up buried under this mess. But I won’t let fear control me. I won’t be another person who sat back and watched it all burn. No matter what happens, I’ll keep fighting—because I believe in something bigger than this world of lies.

😮‍💨I feel better

Dior Bags

 For the people who have seen the dior bags and share this curiosity, I’m eager to hear your experiences. What do you think they are? I’ve heard all kinds of theories—aliens, demons, the government spying on us, or even foreign countries conducting surveillance. The fact that the government isn’t addressing the presence of these drones or explaining what they’re doing up there is unsettling in itself. Why won’t they tell us?

Are they spying to track down the immigrants? Are they preparing to send a message, like some eerily accurate prediction on The Simpsons? Could they drop bombs, spread diseases, or are they testing flying cars? And if you look at it biblically—if these are the end times—could they be part of implementing the mark of the beast? What if these drones and satellites are designed to monitor who has the chip in their foreheads or hands, a mark that could ultimately separate us from heaven? Do they even know? It’s chilling to think about, but what else could they be up there for?

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been watching these drones and documenting what I’ve seen. They don’t behave like ordinary airplanes. They fly too close, hover in place, and move in unusual patterns, flashing red, white, and green lights. Most of the activity happens at night, though I’ve started seeing them earlier, around sunset. I’ve noticed some of them heading west, toward the Gulf of Mexico, and even seen one fall out of the sky. I’ve noticed that cell towers also become more active signalling to airplanes about the traffic in the sky when they’re out.

Not all of them are drones, though. Some are balls of light, glowing orbs—scientists call them “plasmoids.” They’ve even gone as far as to say these beings are alive, sentient even, like they have thoughts and feelings and a purpose we don’t yet understand. While I haven’t had a personal connection with them, I’ve heard stories of people who have. It’s fascinating and unsettling all at once.

Despite everything I’ve observed, it’s hard to find anyone who’s willing to listen. My family dismisses them as airplanes, and even people who’ve witnessed them with me later deny what they saw. I’ve tried sharing my thoughts, but most people seem too scared to face the unknown. Fear shuts down the conversation before it can even begin.

I can’t let fear stop me from seeking answers, though. I’ve seen videos online—particularly on TikTok—that seem to show similar things, though it’s hard to separate the truth from fabrication.

What’s clear is that these drones, lights, and unexplained objects are worth paying attention to. The unknown is scary, but it’s also worth exploring. I’m curious to know what others have seen and what they believe.

To my Brothers and Sisters

To the Black Community

From the yn’s to the nonchalant, from the old heads to the woke folk—why have we allowed them to strip us of our power? Across the United States, I see so many African Americans sitting idle, unwilling to stand up for their rights. We watch our TV shows, cheer for our sports teams, and act as if nothing is happening while the government continues to do as it pleases.

To the yn’s so quick to turn on each other—where are you when the real fight arises? And to those who claim they “don’t care,” understand this: as we speak, they are spitting on the graves of your ancestors. They’re basically saying, “Fuck you and your grandaddy’s rights,” “We’re gonna keep fucking you over and you’re not gonna do a damn thing about it.” Waiting for someone else to save you, when in reality, you are the ones chosen to do the saving.

You’re here for a reason—not to roll over and take this treatment but to make a difference. To fight for a better future. We’ve been peaceful for so long, and no, I’m not saying we should burn down every corporation that funded Project 2025. Of course not—that would be crazy to say. And yet, I understand the frustration that might lead someone to consider such a thing. Not promoting it, of course.

And to the Uncle Tom ass celebrities who’ve sold out to the white man, you’ve set us back decades. For what? Your greed? Your selfishness? Your worship of money—something you can’t even take with you when you die? You should be ashamed. You shouldn’t be asking for handouts or favors from these elites, but it’s clear you’re only looking out for yourselves. Fuck the rest of us, right?

No wonder why the angels don’t like us. How could we deserve heaven when we’ve been forgiven time and time again, only to keep making the same mistakes? Jesus died for us, and yet, so many carry this attitude of, “We’l I didn’t ask Him to die for me, I live for me.” (Went over some heads). So many have strayed away from him. I’m guilty myself and also undeserving. But I hope the Lord can forgive me and all those who seek refuge in him, especially in these dark times.

Even if I stood up and fought for us, would this generation even follow? Would we unify? Would we strategize? Would we finally stand together? Or are we too far gone?

I hope I’m wrong. I hope we find the courage to unify, fight, and stand up for ourselves before it’s too late. Because if we let them silence us—if we let them strip us of our rights, our voices, our power—what will be left of us?