Well that is a relief. I get up my own ass sometimes with stoopid ideas about reality. I’m schizoaffective. One day I work with the CIA. The next, I’m going to hell. Then I’m gunna be famous. The narrative I have to define my identity and derive my executive functions from is HIGHLY malleable. The cult I was abused by had a major hand in that, which has been enhanced by my life partner manipulating me, though I have returned to believing that has been for my benefit because I just talked with him over the phone.

He’s been in the hospital maybe a week or so. Involuntary inpatient psyche ward stay. I’ve been brought to a CPEP facility in cuffs several times being the nutcase that I am, but it always gets switched to voluntary because I am a highly agreeable person and comply with whatever the doctors and staff ask of me. But therein, my life partner is refusing medication and not going to groups and yadda yadda, so he had to go to court today, and my dumbass thought he had done all this to set me up.

I have an IQ most Mensa members wish they had, but therein, I am dumb as a box of rocks. I have no God damn common sense, whatsoever. EQ and judgment of a feral slime mold, which makes sense, seeing as how they can organize themselves more efficiently than engineers can make their computer chips, I just saw an article today. I can see all these possibilities.

Y’know, I can literally see the path from here to becoming the 48th and 50th president, and despite that having less than a yocto-percentage chance of actually coming to fruition, it still lives rent-free in my head. Thus, I saw all the numerous ways my life partner could have horrifically betrayed me by lying, which is a skill he is proficient at, and thus makes it more of a milli-percent of a possible reality. But that call restored my faith. That was the man I love. I felt the warmth in his voice. We talked about art. I feel more positive and put together now than I have felt for the past however long.

It’s a good thing. Makes me more positive about my coming court hearing for assaulting him. He fucks with my head, compassionately. The first page of the Bible encapsulates a lot of things, but the idea of enlightenment ultimately is dependent on how an effect comes before a cause. What I mean is, by developing your prefrontal cortex by stepping outside your confort zone, you develop the part of your brain that predicts the animal parts, cutting them off at the pass, so to speak. Thus, my life partner pushes the absolute limits of what I can take, and it significantly warps my reality.

I didn’t know if I had to play games with the state because I didn’t know if my life partner was playing games against me. Reality seems simple for once. No CIA fucking my shit up. I made a mistake under extreme circumstances, and I have the wherewithal to be completely honest with whomever my judge is and I know now that the deepest pit of darkness is not coming.

Unless the FBI is gunna play a card up their sleeve. But I think, perhaps, it wise that I abstain from taking that 300 question personality test they do as an interview with some people, because now I see what God meant by “a perfect cover story.”

Yea, the state totes was gunna prosecute me, bro. I’m not a cop. They’re just listening, AND reading everything I say. BUT THEY’VE BEEN DOING THAT FOR AT LEAST FIFTEEN FUCKING YEARS!