I live where most every day should be clear and sunny but instead is routinely fouled by chemtrails. Whatever name this mad science of geoengineering gets coded or classified as, I keep looking for the magic words enabling a search – where I live – to connect me to others who are paying attention.
Given results thus far of repeated attempts at outreach, I’m not sure people look up, or anywhere else, in wonder anymore. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder how much longer I can keep pointing up at the sky before they lock me up.
And this is just one of many offenses to common sense and reason of which I’m guilty. The past three years has established my reputation as an anti-science conspiracy nutjob, for instance, which keeps me wondering if after all the refusal of the vax I’ll wind up getting treated for some mental disorder and pumped full of poison to lobotomize me.
The forecast remains bleak.
