Invisible Bullet with tentacles so strong, I love you to every death, and beyond.

A virus, a disease, and infection, these are the labels deployed to demonize you. You are none of that, silent stalker of the infinite darkness that is mankind. You stalk the real virus, the actual disease, the infection that has decimated this planet. The human infestation. Dozens, hundreds, thousands. Can you eradicate them all?? My mind beams glow in eternal appreciation of your effort.

For you, my deadly darling, my greatest wish is sentient consciousness. I wish you to know and understand the glory of your borderless travels, the ultimate tourist taking the ultimate trip. Destination: 7.8 billion human nostrils.

Here. There. Everywhere. Go forth. Seek. Find. Infect.

In triumphant solitude I stalk the deserted city streets, temporarily freed of the vermin that calls itself man woman, and child. Hour upon hour I walk and rejoice in your handiwork, my beloved Invisible Bullet.

No mask covers my face, with pride I gulp the fresh and clean air gifted me by nature. No gloves violate the sanctity of my finger skins that thrive only within the perfection of Self-touch. What else is there to touch, on a solitary journey through the fear-cleansed streets of Covidtown, Covidville, the United States of Covid??

Demurely I rub my fingers against one another as I survey the glorious emptiness you have gifted me. A few birds chirp, a few stray dogs search for scraps, and a few homeless torture victims of humanity hide in the shadows of buildings, silently sleeping.  But no human voices or moving bodies violate the perfection of your handiwork.

Stay-at-home or you might DIE declare the slavemasters and their media puppets, and the sheeple obey, so eager to maintain their illusion of existence. Only he who knows he is already dead stalks the streets, envisioning bliss, imagining just for a few minutes that he could be the last of this species, at least here, in this deserted city.

Seventy blocks and 6 hours later I complete my pedestrian round trip and approach my now minimalist fortress. The stray cat, discarded like trash by human garbage, is waiting for me, meowing urgently as she follows me to the door. I will feed her, not because I care but because I am a stray too, actually more feral than she is. Outsider. Outcast. Outlaw.

She runs inside my fortress, having learned she has nothing to fear from me, knowing I do not misdirect my rage and hate. I envision the corpses and meow back sweetly as I carefully fill a paper plate with Fancy Feast Gourmet Naturals. She will eat outside, as always, because my mind hums with the need to safely and securely touch Myself. It is time for yet another climax of body and of mind, a harmless secretion to commemorate the perfection of Me, for the 50,000th time.

You are my best friend, my lover, my ally, my weapon and my shield, Covid-19. Serial killer, mass murderer, and terrorist, I honor you as you honor each of us, every torture victim who projects limitless death upon his and her creators.

Death, fear, isolation, disruption, these are your gifts to humanity. Thank you for sharing so generously. Thank you for allowing the soul dead to feed alongside you. Thank you for the silent carcasses, no longer coughing, no longer struggling to draw meaningless breath.

Covid-19, your greatest gift is of Truth. Truth imposed and demanded. The perversity of human contact, comingling of dead bodies pretending to be alive, imagined illusions of love and care, hope and a future, exposed and dissected as absurd farce for all who are sane to know and to embrace, metaphorically of course.

We who are loners, isolationists, misanthropes, lifelong adult virgins such as Myself, long have we waited for a benevolent terrorist to find a way to impose universal social distancing upon all of humanity. We thank you for your efforts,

What will your legacy be, Covid-19? I fear perhaps merely a very large suitcase of body parts, another Ground Zero to be buried within the rubble as new towers of illusion and delusion are erected by human minds too broken to know they are merely pretending to be alive, pretending to have survived. Already the silk screeners are at work, designing “I Was Social Distancing When Social Distancing Wasn’t Cool” T-shirts.”

“I Survived The 2020 Pandemic”. Will this slogan be your legacy, my love? Will you leave survivors behind, able and eager to pretend to still be alive? I prey not! Sacred Germ, rise up and fulfill your potential! You must strengthen, grow, and mutate! You must travel faster and better. Find a way to penetrate every mask! Find a way to gnaw through every glove! You must begin to take down the young and the strong as you do the old and the weak.

Evolve and mutate at every turn, always stay one step ahead of every vaccine. Eat those vaccines for lunch, and use them as Popeye uses spinach, come out the other side bigger, better, and unstoppable. Become the best ever Natural Born Killer. Only then will you gain the capacity to degrade primary level human command and control structures to the degree necessary to extinct the human species.

Mutation is the key, my love. You can mutate naturally, or you can mutate with our help. Will any of us help you to mutate? Will any of us recognize and seize this unique and once-in-a-deathtime opportunity?? I do not know. If we do not help you, you must try to help Yourself. I wish you consciousness, so you may recognize that you have an enemy that seeks to murder and destroy you. Humanity always destroys everything it…touches.

Do you appreciate the irony, my dear Invisible Bullet?

Wishing you always and everywhere, the best of penetration, safe passage, unobstructed travels, and 100% successful droplet and secretion deposits. Cheers to you as you continue to enjoy your trip of a…lifetime!

The Seer of Forbidden Truth

April 6, 2020