i dont know man my mind doesnt feel like mine anymore, with the assumption i have about having a bci, i go through it all the time. it just doesnt feel like me anymore and no this is not some dissociative episode. the mind and how things work feels unusual. and no im not doing this for clout or attention or to try to say i have a bci or NL. these things mean alot to me. my autonomy, i keep waiting for some message some green light. perhaps i still dont understand but fundamnetlally it makes sense to me, the more straight forward they are about this, the pick up etc. the better off. i do not know what the rest of my life will be like, i can only hope that i will be working in the body and my old mind, and enacting some sort of waking of the people ads, or something along these lines. the system is very old and rusty it has been for some time. i think i can do it but it feels as tho i have barriers, unseen, and opinions that i may need to address to move forward with such a task like this. i hate words. the amount of money that is thrown into sway a vote only to elect a prezi that is sitting atop a old outdated machine is frightening. my historians are now my people, as she says. “my guys” they are mine. they give me hope in such a progressive future that once was. just writing these words spurs a feeling, a feeling that all human beings must feel in the country. i say must as they should, but as to say you must try this its amazing. not to force. where is fdr, tr, wilson, where are we going? the current congress is broken and slow. i fear the collapse. i know people may be waking from hangovers, now so i say ok, lets sleep but lets remember these things. this labour, this condition, the outrage of greed, a better world for the next son of a bitch, the next human that arises consciousness and ask similar questions. there are people not making a living, not able to afford housing, not able to have a basis of life, and yet they keep smiling. so i say we must distribute, we must be human. we must.