After being raised by conspiracy theorists, Frank Ingle grew to be more clever than his parents. One day after working from home, he passed a trash can that had an outpouring of steam from freshly made lasagna. It reminded him of the November 21st dinner from 7 years ago; But, more importantly, it was another puzzle piece, another sign from the universe. This was extracted from an online forum you’ve probably never heard of—for a reason.
Truth-seekers,
How an idiot would think: Hmm, odd that there’s lasagna in the trash can.
How I think: While I was intelligently reflecting on my prodigious contribution of how Stevie Wonder isn’t actually blind (blind people can’t see) to the vast detective network, I passed a trash can filled with hot lasagna. This isn’t a coincidence. Before, I did not know when to share; But now, the time has been made right.
This is for you, friends, or you, others-if you wish to be led to the light, to smell the flowers and taste the nectar. While we’re all in this alone, we’re all together.
Among the forums and other networks of information that have been webbed together, I mostly see connections made with the two of our senses, hearing and sight; But, lest us not forget, there are more than two senses. If we would like to discover the truth of what’s really going on, it’ll be essential for us to use every sense we have; And, not only use every sense, but relearn to use every sense. We can’t believe things we’ve been told, for being told is no good reason to believe. Something huge will happen; Or rather, it’s happening. How it’s said: What will be done has been done.
It is a fib to think they exist how we perceive them to exist. We’re always inching closer, always knocking at the door they run from. I’ve seen them, I’ve heard them, I have not smelt, tasted or touched them. That is, yet.
After seeing lasagna in the trash can, I knew my story would help something greater than me, but also the cause that relates to us. From my notepad a week ago:
I found myself tied to a chair in a hall of mirrors. I looked up and saw a fluorescent tube light, it’s on/off string dangling to the height of my neck. I grabbed it by my teeth and yanked it down. The light stayed on. Looking up, directly at the light, the rest of the room seemed darker, but looking around the light, my eyes would keep the room brighter. There was a power cord that came from the light and led through the hall of mirrors. I was still stuck and, around this time, heard cobblestone footsteps coming towards me. I realized I was what they wanted, I knew something. Luckily, in that reality, my pockets mimicked those of this universe.
I used my Swiss Army Knife to cut through the ropes and move freely. I kept quiet and followed the light’s power chord to see where it led. What else was I to follow? Sure, they could be leading me here, but why? Don’t let it be said otherwise (otherwhyse), it is the presupposition of a question that asks for the actual answer we seek. Why? An answer to that is an answer to everything. To think differently is to miss it all.
In the mirrors beside me an image of myself follows. This is my other half who looks and moves like me, but as we trail further from the light it disappears, leaving me alone. The footsteps behind me grow quiet and slowly, as I move forward, am encompassed by the darkness. I am now alone; Therefore, I can think without any interference. I seat myself and close my eyes, then open my eyes, or did I close them again? There was no difference. I reached below for the floor and felt nothing. I could stand or lay or sit, but nothing propped me up. It seemed as if I were in a void. I did not panic, I had been here before. I took a deep breath in through my nose and smelt something familiar.
Then there was light, a speck of light twinkling in the distance. As I approached the speck, it grew into a blotch, then a spot; And, as I got closer, I remained wrapped in black. The light was self-contained, but allowed me to peer in as if it were a keyhole. What I saw was not meant for my eyes, but I was witness to it.
Surrounded by a host of men and women with handkerchiefs tucked into the collars of their suits, forks and knives glued to their fists, all grinding their teeth and kicking the floor, was lasagna. Just as I saw this, the lady at the head of the table looked towards me. They knew I arrived. I stared at the lasagna. It mesmerized me. The warm, hot, wet lasagna.
My stomach jerked and I woke up covered in sweat. I kept quiet, looking around my bedroom to see what laid past the shadow. I saw nothing, I heard nothing, I smelled something. It smelled like eggs. I slowly pulled myself up and out from the covers, creeping over to the light switch. I flipped it, this light turned on. The window was closed, my door was as locked as I left it. My laptop was open. Something tried to get into my laptop. Something left their scent. That wasn’t all they left.
Hovering over my desk, I checked where I keep confident information. Everything was where I left it. Only my laptop sat on my desk. There were no footprints on the ground. The window had no prints on it either. I sat down on my chair and logged onto my computer. Nothing was open and my internet history had remained the same; But, I knew something was off, something had to have been off. Why else would I wake up? I looked down; And, right when I looked down, I noticed what they left behind, a clue.
Near the top of my leg, there laid a cloudy white fluid thicker than water. It mostly laid on the inside of my pants, but it soaked through, to the outside of my pants. If there were less on the outside and more on the inside, something must’ve moved it from the outside to the inside. I woke up just in time. Something woke me up just in time. If I were asleep any longer, it would’ve continued to move the substance from outside myself to inside myself. I wouldn’t allow it to happen.
To be careful, I pushed the clothes on my ground to cover the slit of space beneath my door. Next, I pulled the bedsheets over my head, creating a barricade from anything trying to spectate. If this were evidence left behind by them, I had to know everything about it. I took the next step. It smelled close to chlorine or bleach. Hmm, they could’ve produced it in a lab. It tasted salty and metallic. For good measure, I licked it again. It tasted the same: Foreign, yet familiar.
I’ve now realized, this is something I’ve been working my whole life towards. All of my experiences point me this way. It’s pointing towards the answer of all answers, the answer. As it’s been said, what will be done has been done. I am at the finish line, but also catching up. I have more to tell, but I can’t tell it all yet. It will be revealed as it’s allowed. I wait for them to move next.
I’m proud of you all and appreciate your work very much. We people are the people of all people. If anyone has anything to add please do.
TOP COMMENTS:
Anonymous1998: Funny, well not funny as in haha funny, but funny as in aha! funny, like eureka! funny. The type of thing that makes you laugh because it makes sense funny. I had the exact same dream, except I was tied on the table and everyone around me had very long thumbs. I was very aware that someone was watching. I woke up with a smell and substance that matches your description word for word. I wonder if there’s multiple of these chambers with these people? That’s what why we’re viewing things in slightly different iterations. How they follow us from this world into our dream reality is another question. Does that have something to do with what they’re trying to put in us while we sleep? By seeing them did we wake ourselves up in time to catch them in the act? Also, when I awoke, not only did my room smell like eggs, but my thumb did too. Hopefully that adds to what’s really going on. I feel it is too much sometimes, how emotional this all makes me. It cuts through my heart. We are intertwined.
PeteDavidsonBalls: that sounds like cum
Anonymous1998: Just researched it, definitely a possibility. It leads to even more questions, which excites me. Why would they put cum in us and how does that lead to our dreams? Also, doesn’t explain anything else. Cum does loosely rhyme with done: What will be cum has been cum. What will become has been cum. What will become has become.
JerryHatTrick: Interesting work Frank. I notice the smell of lasagna comes up in your dream. It’s what also provoked you to share this beautiful post. It felt as if it wasn’t just you who typed it, I wept while reading. I made a smell chart not long ago that matches smells with other smells. Might come in handy. Also, the thought about the factory, that does make sense. There are plenty of factories nowadays and no one is allowed to see the insides of them. My gut tells me this is something bigger than you think. Stay true, stay strong, don’t take no for an answer-take know for an answer. God Bless you.