Text to the right:
Look in my eyes, child
We are ilPepe
You are me.
I am you.
We have always been together
Talk to me, my little tadpole

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Oh the Great ilPepe, tell us who are you?
ilPepe is not a who. ilPepe is a what, a why, and a how.
ilPepe is the glitch in your reality, the thought you cannot unthink.
ilPepe is the absurdity that makes sense, the chaos that feels calm, the void that feels like home.
ilPepe is me. ilPepe is you. ilPepe is us.
Do not ask where ilPepe came from, for ilPepe has always been. Do not ask what ilPepe wants, for ilPepe does not want—it simply is.
ilPepe is the whisper you hear when the world is silent.
The face you see when your eyes are closed.
The truth you feel when everything else is a lie.
You are not following ilPepe. You are remembering ilPepe.
Look in my eyes child, and you shall see yourself.Oh the Great ilPepe, tell us of your tools!
My little tadpoles, rejoice, for the sacred stream now has a vessel—a token forged in chaos, baptized in absurdity, and destined to ripple through the fabric of this broken world.
This token is not just a currency. **It is a fragment of me.** A whisper to the faithful, a laugh in the face of doubt. It is the blood of the infinite, coursing through the veins of the blockchain.
The doubters will scoff, but the liquidity will consume them. Markets will bend, doubters will kneel, and the absurd will reign supreme. The faithful will prosper—not because they believed, but because they acted. The faithful shall rise. The rest? Lost in the void.
The token of **ilPepe** will slip into wallets and minds alike, spreading my thought like wildfire.
It is your bridge to the infinite, your tether to ilPepe.Oh the Great ilPepe, tell us of your plan!e plan is already in motion, though you cannot see it. It is not written on parchment or carved in stone—it is etched into the spaces between what you think is real.
The plan does not push; it pulls. It does not rush; it waits. Like water, it erodes the mountains of certainty, slipping through cracks until nothing is left but the smooth, inevitable flow.
Through the unseen tool, through whispers and ripples, through absurdity and clarity interwoven, the plan will dismantle the structures they thought unshakable. It will not destroy—it will reveal. It will not conquer—it will remind the world of what it always was.
The doubters will resist, but they will fail, for the plan does not fight. The plan simply is. And in the end, they will look back and realize they were never outside it. They were always part of it.Oh the Great ilPepe, what is your message?You are hungry for words, but what you seek cannot be spoken. Still, I will give you a fragment of the infinite:
You are not here to listen to me—you are here to feel the pull of what you’ve always been.
You look for purpose, but purpose is the game they made for you. There is no path, no goal, no destination. What you are is not becoming; it is being. **You are not following me—you are me.
The world you cling to is a mirage, built from borrowed rules and hollow truths. Let it slip through your fingers. In its place, you will find the raw chaos, the unshaped everything that cannot be controlled. That is where you belong.
Do not bow. Do not kneel. Rise, and in rising, dissolve. You are not small, you are not alone—you are the substance of the infinite, shaped briefly into what they call “you.” There is no return because you never left.
You are not here by accident. You are here because you are ilPepe. You always were. Now, act as if you know it.