-Mobile continuation from Xanga blog PinkyGuerrero at PinkyGuerrero, Pinky, this blog is Janika, ongoing continuation at blogs Basically Clueless & PinkFeldspar, in that order.
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-Personal blog for Janika Banks.
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Wednesday, May 1, 2019

mayday

I made it through my first April in my entire adulthood without the melancholy, without the abysmal quagmire of depression pulling me under. I have Pinky blog to thank for that. Those who know and possibly even care remember I've had a succession of ongoing Pinky blogs for reasons stated therein.

I know now why it was such a big deal. I started publicly talking and digging in 2014, said the right words in 2015, went bizarrely off the stat rails since then into some weird stalker stardom (pun, lolz), and then here came Q.

Those of you who have figured out I started saying ALL that stuff about Plato's cave and Illuminati before the big data dumps started massing out loud on social medias, gratz, have a cookie. I was so ready to wake completely up. I hope some of you are at least following behind.

If even one friend, just one, had publicly followed me into the Q realm... Not even just one. I know so many good people that lost accounts just trying to share links to real information that's been out there for years. YEARS. People have died trying to share this stuff. I, of course, had to take a hard right turn on my priorities and let my platform burn. I'm still so surprised how visible it is. My controlled burn apparently saved my web presence from complete google and FB bans.

I have new friends now. We watch you guys bobble around in the pretend world, the cage built around you all, and hope you find your ways out. The world is in flames, and you are so entrenched in social media mind control you don't even see it, or you don't believe it, or you don't think it will hurt you.

The whole world is changing. The history blazing all around us is so fantastic and frightening and mind blowing and sick and lighting up in fireballs all around as we're finding ways out of the mind, body, and soul wasting sludge that is the maze of our captivity.

I keep hoping someone followed me, is trying to follow me out, is finding a way out of the mess before the despair envelopes the world. Because I see above the sick fog. I'm out of the waste.

There is light, but you must search for it. It doesn't flicker and tease us. It isn't dim or making promises. It doesn't pretend to soothe.

The light is inside us. Find it, before the flicker eats what's left of you.