BigW72 wrote:
Sini....you are a board treasure. Don't ever change!
thanks dude! and for the record there is indeed a legit concentration camp in the mall of justice. it's a series of empty rooms that you're endlessly paraded through where until you achieve the most menial tasks like going around and picking up every dead fly carcass with only your pinky fingernail and individually dumping them in the toilet do you go to the next bigger emptier and dirtier room and get faced with nothing but isolation and loneliness where your thoughts start racing about curses passed down throughout your family and all kinds of mental shit to like, man, it's just excessive and demeaning and it goes on for hours and hours after you see the TV judge and he says you're good to go home.... then you're on indefinite hold just shuffled through this endless maze of nothing where you really gotta concentrate on tiny little things you can do to try and make the whole overall situation better than it was than when you came in.
eventually when they're done dicking you around with that they have some martin sheen looking doctor dude talk to you dismissively about nothing important then they just let you sit there and rot indefinitely for another hour or two. it gets so excessive that you realize they're never letting you go so if your only way out is the sweet release of death well thank god for COVID you've got the mask and if you can swallow that fucker it'll tie around something by your windpipe and end you. now i'm not a suicidal type of person but indeed when the only options are "rot here for eternity even tho the authority formally said you can go hours ago" or "HEAD LIKE A HOLE... BLACK AT YOUR SOUL... I'D RATHER DIE THAN GIVE YOU CONTROL!!!!" take it from a guy who dj's as emessiah,
i am insanely jealous of anyone with a "nine inch nail" if you catch my drift.
so you give it a go, you start to choke and feel the cords wrap around you... but then you're saved by
your gag rephlex records label and it's like what in the actual fuck?!!?!
so then you kind of go well fuck... i suck at death. so you loudly rap on the door for the turnkey (prison guard) and a nice sherriff dude comes over and you point out that you realize death is the only escape from this mess you got yourself into, you gave it a go and it didnt work out.... so is there a way that i could enlist your guys help to do this professionally because i know who and what i am and what needs to be done to make sure the world keeps on spinning for everyone who deserves to be there, and the guy has a genuine smile because he recognizes a true team player when he sees one and says "certainly sir, just give me a minute" and sure enough within 3mins he's back with a printout showing two nondescript black kids' mugshots and you ask him like "ok just like make sure they're a good shot like i just wanna be walking down the street give em a silencer or something so i never hear it coming and one second i'll e here and one second i won't and honestly if it's like that it's neutral and yeah they were smiling and nodding, so fucking cool about it. let me right out of the cell take me up to the desk all my possessions are ready to go and they only tell me one cautionary thing before i go.... don't go back home to 5731 (as my original crime was going in through my personal secret entrance to the old house where i made most of the music in
http://sinicalypse.kaen.org/trax and
http://sinicalypse.kaen.org/mixes --- because i thought that my victim/crush/soulmate/secret-lover/accomplice/justgetoverhereandhoponyourthronemyfuckingqueenbaby was going to be there and i was sleep deprived like 5 days trying to better my working relationship with amazon INC and get promoted through showing i could do with less self medication to keep my deteroriating corporeal form in order would be the key to moving up through the company.... but then a planned 3 day jaunt became a leave of absence and after weird shit my phone kicks up with an old msg from this msgboard from 2018 that has an odd typoo standing out saying "go img" which i had over-interpreted as saying "go i'm in morton grove" and all this girl wanted me to do was just come back home and it was gonna be some kind of surprise party for me like NOOOO WE DIDNT REALLY SELL THE HOUSE TO MUHAMMAD MCMANSION NEXT DOOR SO HE COULD LET A BUNCH OF PEOPLE PAY FOR THE PRIVILEGE TO HANG OUT WHERE I DID MY MUSICAL THING FOR THE LAST 10YRS PRIOR..... IT WAS ALL A PLOY TO HELP ME GROW SPIRITUALLY AND REACH THIS PLACE WHERE I'M AT NOW WHERE I CAN FINALLY RETURN HOME GRAB MY GIRL AND START MY OWN FUCKING LIFE / FAMILY / ETC IN THE ONE TRUE GROVE I CALL HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111111111111
i literally rang the doorbell twice before i went in. the people in the house didnt even fucking answer. i yelled hey cmon guys the door's open anyone? then i went in through my own secret entrance (supposedly 25 grand of renevations to the house but the one way only i ever went in was left there for a trap for me to go into?) so as i barrelled down over the kitchen sink and fell to my old kitchen floor i see strange muslim ppl i dont know staring at me.... i figure "fuck it let's see if the world can be honest with me for once" and i go "did we get enough footage of me doing this yet? am i good to go?" but for people who pretended to not know english they sure knew how to dial 9-1-1 super quick and the cops are there and i'm being super friendly to them saying sorry for the misunderstanding you guys know me i used to kind of live here and rock out and do my thing and i'm just kind of having one of my adventures [and i didnt tell them what fucking assholes these tenets of the house were cuz comeon.... if they would have just talked to me like a fucking rational human being i never would have did the stunt thing.... but dude... when you've got arguably the most badass artist chick on the planet fucking with your head and turning you out into even more of a secret weapon super rapper/dj/whateverthefuckiam and you just want all of that bullshit to end cuz you're tired of being a secret agent and you just wanna live your dreams of just... you know... finally having a girlfriend in life. all i ever really wanted really... nope. you gotta get locked up booked $600-1000 impound fee on your car and all that shit and put through the system [even tho i entertained all of the cops] and then after having to have been the happiest nicest coolest obivously dr. who-iest prisoner in the history of morton grove, off you go to the mall of justice where you see the oddly familiar looking TV judge in undrr an hour he says you're good to go on an i-bond cool.... but then you're put in a concentration fucking camp for hours on end after he says you're i-bonded?
yeah dude, honestly, i kind of throw myself headfirst into method acting and whatnot... but i really believed i was a goner. so as they handed me my $47 and all my possessions back all they said is "dont go back to 5731 and you're good" --- which i figured was a funny warning seeing as i just ordered a professional hit on myself, but you know what hey i dont make the rules here i just take everybodys shit and come back with a shitty disposition like MAY I HAVE MORE SIR PLEASE?!?!!
so i went and got a pack of cigarettes at the shell at dempster and still had $30+ left so i coulda went down to the city and got a couple'a bags.... and hey inner city crime maybe i get got while doing a bag.... nice way to go.... but then something just clicked inside of me and i wanted to go out where i lived and i decided to not listen to those people who let me out of the IRL concentration camp so i just walked right back to my old house and sat down against my old garage door and figured lonzo and israel (or whatever you wanna call the 2 guys they said were gonna carry out my hit) would hopefully be there soon enough cuz i didnt wanna deal with those asshole tenets again (i mean like... hey dont you fuckers actually wanna meet me? like you know... hello? why are you renting THAT house again?) but nope. within 2mins of sitting at the garage MGPD is back and calling me up to the front of the driveway to get re-cuffed re-arrested re-charged trespassing AGAIN and this time it wasnt a concentration camp, it was a weird bollywood dance routine with my hands hardcore shackled behind my back for 9-12hrs and still to this day if i put my arms high and back enough i can feel where those shackles from the great 26th/cali cook county bollywood dance routine went down. 95% of other prisoners were cuffed normally but i was in excruciating pain the whole night. i was led to believe that i would again have to give up my life and get reincarnated into being someone else born in the 1980s, but at least this time they'd give me a magic bag of dope that woudl OD me and eat my brain and all that.
but nope. and even after seeing artist girl legit there in full nurse mask face shield getup across the building (or at least it felt like her when our eyes met. meatsuits can get tricky when you're into knowing too much) and there was nothing i could do to approach her but watch her work and dance her routine away while most of the people in the room "felt" like people from my life but looked like people i kinda didnt know and i was the only one shackled in such an excruciating pain that this went on for 6-7hrs and etc.... and at the end of it all i'm finally unshackled and put into an empty isolated room where i would sit for appx the next 7-11 days with no offers of a shower or clean clothes until i personally stripped naked and shoved out my clothes under the door and screamed at the top of my lungs til someone noticed i was naked in there and they gave me clean clothes. and i was completely ignored outside of being given a cpl meals a day, so i basically freestyled doctor who off the top of my head, worked out some kinky masturbation fantasies and used the dry-out time to at least get that side of me healthy.... and then one night it was so fucking weird there was this feeling like i fell into another dimension via a 4-5D acid trip where i got up to the door where i could technically see and hear the TV out in the main room (cuz everyone else would be let out for showers or some commons time, except me, the biggest menace of them all) and i swear to god ray fucking hudson was calling UFC fighting. it was fucking amazing.
oh yeah and all the guards/sherriffs/whatever all "felt" like people i worked with at work. it was truly fucking mental. so eventually they let me see a TV judge after the 9 10 11 12 days? i didnt know... i was just gone for awhile. another TV judge says i'm free to go on another i-bond so thats cool i spose. but then nobody mentioned to me that they're taking me out on a stretcher and dumping me off at some hospital so... [drum roll] I CAN GO TO ANOTHER MENTAL WARD CUZ CLEARLY I AM MENTALLY ILL FOR UHHH... YOU KNOW.... thinking i made some pretty good music that the community might have been proud of over the 14yrs i spent in morton grove and that maybe just maybe someday i could come back and finish what i started there.
but hey at least at that hospital there was a guy who reminded me of ozzie and some cool hospital workers were low key sliding me some test tubes with powdery shit that looked tasted and mmmyeah like a bag of my sweet release and then there was some great shit on cartoon network and when i finally got out life was all surreal and weird again, i had a weird guy rob me at the corner of western and division (taking my drugs and $30 but claiming he'd be back within 30-45mins with my money and dope. weird shit. i didnt wait for him) but i somehow buzzed AMZL DIL7 and saw chris warren and my old SA/SM roger like Whaaazaaappp as i stopped back at DCH2 to get some water and get a proper lyft home from the helpful RTS staff.... and then i had my lost summer of 2020 where i made more rap songs and a bunch of mixes and like.... you know.... its just weird man. idk why all this crazy shit always happens to me when people have the option of treating me like a grown up and just being honest with me, but i guess it's just too damn fun to wind me up and send me careening off into crazy (relative?) adventures that i have to go through cuz.... uhhh..... i made the mistake of calling a dialup bulletin board called "kooler than jesus" as my first dialup BBS i called, cuz that was the one point where i think my life really got on this path so i blame lithium and liquid jesus in no particular order and you know... its not like i ever signed up for this bullshit. but i guess someone's gotta do it, eh?
and wow.... what has this story taught us? fuck if i know. i just had never really told the story of my IRL concentration camp experience and various arrests all for the crime of trying to impress a hot young piece of ass into wanting to hang out with me cuz i wanted to show that i "still had that badass artist streak" in me and i hadnt gone soft by working in corporate america for the last 2+ ryears and really buying into the 645-145 lifestyle like OMFG amazon plzzzz bring back MCO someday. and yeah.
so now at the end of another one fo these periods where there has been way less drama (minus the 3 days where i couldnt breathe from monday to late weds / early thurs this week, but hey you know i'm me and i deserve to have horrible fates/curses/pains/aches/etc thrown upon me cuz.... uhhh yeah the rumors are true. all my ex girlfriends ended up cucking me out like a total patriot in the end. the whore of babylon Herself even brought a dude home from work and he got all up in her grotslot while she was on the phone with me. that was classy, especially when she said she assumed she could fuck whoever she wanted whenever she wanted even if i was on the phone with her because... [drum roll] I DO DRUGS!!!! thats right kids!! because my retro tastes for the quaaludes era of the 70s weren't fashionable circa 2007 i deserved to have a dumb golddigging mk ultra beta sex kitten patriot try to psychlogically destroy me over the phone!
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