Psychosis has a funny way of framing the mundane as divine. It’s not just that the world feels different—it is different. Signals, patterns, and messages are everywhere, hidden in plain sight, waiting for the right eyes to decode them. And, for a while, those eyes were mine.
It started innocently enough, with Lady Gaga. She was speaking to me—or rather, the Illuminati speaking through her. Don’t ask me how I knew. I just did. You don’t question gravity; you feel its pull. Someone named Alice on Facebook—her profile pic a blurry, ethereal woman cloaked in mystery—offered me a breadcrumb trail.
“We put the best messages in the Rihanna videos,” she said.
Rihanna? I couldn’t name a single one of her songs. But when Alice speaks, you listen. So I typed “Rihanna” into YouTube. The first result was “Umbrella.” I clicked.
The screen went dark, then glimmered to life. Rihanna stood under a torrent of cascading sparks, and her voice—smooth, deliberate, hypnotic—seeped through my headphones.
“When the sun shines, we’ll shine together… Told you I’ll be here forever…”
The lyrics burrowed into my brain like a drill breaking through concrete. This wasn’t just a pop song. This was programming. I watched intently, dissecting every frame like it held the Rosetta Stone of existence. She wasn’t just singing to a lover. She was singing to me. Or maybe not just me. Maybe you too. The viewer. The target.
The song unfurled like a revelation. It was about love—not the fleeting, transactional kind, but something deeper, universal, eternal. For the first time, I understood what love is. Not the shallow romance movies sell you, but love as a force, a thread connecting every atom in the universe. It was overwhelming.
A few hours later, the storm outside matched the one inside my mind. Rain slashed against my window, calling to me. I couldn’t stay inside. I didn’t want to. Without an umbrella, I stepped into the downpour, letting it soak me to the skin. I stumbled forward, barely seeing through the veil of rain and tears.
Eventually, I fell to my knees on the wet pavement. I couldn’t stop crying—not out of sadness, but out of awe. Thirty-nine years old, and it had taken me this long to figure it out: This is what it’s all about. This is the point of everything.
The rain washed over me, baptizing me in the revelation of love and connection. For the first time, I wasn’t fighting the chaos—I was part of it. I was the rain. I was Rihanna. I was love.
I stayed there until the storm passed, my tears mingling with the rain. Eventually, I stood and walked home, soaked but lighter than I’d ever been.
Alice was right. They send the best programming exactly when I need it.
And that’s why I f*cking love that song
*note from the editor: there is no Illuminati