What’s up with the diary, Mom?
Well, I’m glad somebody finally asked!
I’m angry and exasperated, not to mention extremely wobbly. I’m expected to “just accept,” without question, massive changes, chaos, and whole scale destruction, not to mention trash up to by eyeballs. What would you do?

Why, I’m so nervous and shaky that my weather wobbles, my plates rattle, and my temperature soars one day and plummets the next, regardless of season or location. I’m in such a state of distress and confusion that I’ve got rain, snow, and hail falling in the desert.
And let’s not forget all those cobwebs hanging in what used to be my beautiful blue skies . . . Geoengineering they call it . . . I call them what they are . . . chemtrails . . . poisoning me and my critters and wrecking my ionosphere.

My creatures are leaving me daily, in mass die-offs and extinctions across many species. And, both humans and animals are being exposed to raging forest fires, tornadoes, flash flooding, sinkholes, and massive landslides that send cliffs collapsing onto roads and into the seas, taking property, and people with them.

And my trees, my once beautiful trees . . . It pains me to even mention what’s happening to them.

I’m figuratively and literally all torn up about it, stretched to the breaking point and beyond, to the point where great fissures break out on my surface.
And what can I do?
Very little other than rattle my tectonic plates and blow my top, which seems to be happening more and more frequently every day – though I must admit, I find venting my anger through volcanic eruptions very therapeutic.

But nobody seems to notice or care unless it happens to be in their location or unless they are personally affected by it.
There are some who ask, what can we do to help? At this point, it seems, not much!
You see, every 3,600 years, give or take a year or so, my old nemesis, Planet X (aka Nibiru and a lot of other aliases) swings by to torment me. He’s in the neighborhood now, and by the time he exits the solar system, nothing, or no one, will be left untouched. I will, of course, take the brunt of his abuse.
How will it all end, you ask? Well, I’ve survived abuse and upheavals before and will continue to do so in the future. I’m strong. I will survive and eventually heal myself, as I have done in the past.
And so, in the meantime, I journal and you . . . “clean up your mess!”

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