Build a Dyson sphere around this thing in my ass, why don't you?

I'm scared. My neighbors are stalking me. One guy waits over the laundry room whenever I smoke, clearly cross-talking to me. Other people whispered things from their apartments. The cops are setting me up. They think I'm some awful serial killer/child abductor. It looks horrible for me, I'm sure. Why did my life partner do this? It's awful. He made me look like a monster to these people whom he never sees because he stays burrowed in the apartment. He bikes now. I don't trust him. He's financially abusing me and intentionally sabotaging my efforts to create sustainability. It's just like the cult. The birds were speaking to me, giving me commands. They used animal recordings to give me cheese cloths. No one even knows what the Ālaya-vijñāna is, amd they choose to remain ignorant. I read that ten thousand page sutra, his character says, knowing the precision it must have in explaining the hyperbolic topology contained therein. They're gunna say I had illegal pornography on my one computer. No, not that one. I smashed the hard drive on that one into a billion pieces, but the one they have just had lotsa tranny porn. Bug tells me think of little things. My cells. I'm dying. We're all dying. Everything is impermanent. Can't smoke up on the same river twice, as Archbishop Franz Poodlage once told an enamored following of nuns that revoked their free sub status at Jimmy John's status to live freely as the Buddha, Jesus, and a fuck ton of others do in Heaven. I've been in Heaven before, for seven minutes even! But I'm genuinely scared I've been set up horrifically. Maybe it resolves magickally. I have one-sixteenth of a tooth and it stopped hurting once I started taking care of my life partner. I got cheese on my shirt; how did this happen? Karma, obviously. Sincerely, I don't do meth anymore as I smoke about a pound of Benadryl a day, and you see what it's doing for me! This could be your future! Fuck I hate thinking I'm a cop. Verisimilitude, God says. Well, fuck you too, bitchboy. I ain't even seen the gol dang wagoozgoos on that beaver, but Kennedy took that bullet for me, the lucky bastard. Did you know you live in a police state? Well, technically the world doesn't exist, but that's just Buddhism (and the occult) for you.