Recently doctor, I was summoned to create a pithy visual artist portfolio for exhibiting, teaching with coaching in mind. To a group of nearby academic advisors, whom I heard, called themselves: “Aspirant Level 3 Group“.

My job is to carry out neuronal analysis. Scanning codes with “E-Molina’s” consent. He invented the simulator. Around here, your species calls it “The Neuralink.” It is a theoretical hyper-loop simulator for the mind. The loop sends cosmic messages between your species and advanced races, using real-time thoughtful to schizophrenic synapses. Running faster than the speed of light, they are.

I use radio transmission technology between our galactic neighborhood edge and the center of the Milky Way. A cosmic mental loophole if you will, are generated and exported. Also, the sun is a Dyson Sphere.

“I asked you about your drawings! who governs empty space?.” Yes, I call them works on paper. I use mathematical structures in lines, texture, and color. I also infuse them into compositional subject matter, second dimensions, layout, and conceptual frameworks. To gather intelligence analysis, and also. You need to multiply several trillions stars (xxx) many planets to properly understand, her spin. Is nature calling you, again.

While tongue and cheek lies behind rogue agents tap, tap, tap, tap and tap. I simply move on in cosmic Buddhist salience, science and silence.

RKSL: “Ok, what happen today” ?

I continued looking for work. UI UX, AI agent development followed by my usual Teli-watching, for the sake of Mr.-Gusto. Pounding yellow balls, softly spoken kinky voice whilst maintaining mental health alert practices, to a reduced negative number. Empty space lies in cosmic negative number critiques. When advance races capable of reducing matter to further make all matter smaller. You have arrived at emptiness by way of gravitational forces.

Who Governs Empty Space?