NO LONGER KNOWING
I try to assess my place in the present world, and find this very difficult. My position as being a guy the government basically wants to keep secret about, and a figure who has been accused of leading a bloody massacre; chaos, for no reason at all; revolution, with no end game government in sight.
What you tried to teach me, which I missed at the time, or dismissed as someone trying to give me orders who was intruding on my life by bugging me and taunting me in the media, it seemed to me... I now see much more clearly. I have only what I can extrapolate from my own life what happened, and the horror of not knowing why I was being tested, for what reason... why the media was reacting to me at all was puzzling as hell. It was a hell. If not for God I would have not been able to tell myself, day after day, no matter what they throw at me, I will fight.
I felt like I seldom wrote anything that others had not already written before me. The weight given my every word way too much. I feel it now. The reverence I feel for the women who leapt from buildings, a statement of revolution as I see them now, an announcement we would die to save this world. Selflessness. Though this like much I would not want repeated. I try to honor them, though the first time you saw the horror on my face and my thought that 40 was associated with me, and this woman downtown had went to a lot of trouble to get to the 40th floor to jump from.
I won't repeat what I meant as a joke... I HAVE written this too many times. Apologized and explained and attempted to tell the truth, because no matter how many lies are believed, the truth must continue to exist, in some form, somewhere, no matter how much blood is shed.... I used to 'wear this world' like a loose cloak.' That is no longer possible now....
SO WHAT IS MY PLACE NOW? DOES IT MATTER HOW I SEEM TO YOU? What is happening in the world that I can have an effect on? What not? I know my opinions and asinine reactionaries who will say anything -- I left that liberal pretend mask when I heard what kinds of things you were doing, and planning. The soldiers used. The tactics. I know I was at the center of someone else's Operation. Then when I seemed on my own.... when I was on the cusp of winning, told the flags on the lapels would be replaced with 6's.... I shattered the union. Why? I thought I could... instead, I discovered who I would have been leading into power and I thank God this happened, and those who fought in that seemingly unwinnable battle and lost allies, we stopped them from completely taking over. Whatever group they were muscling for. I understand the system better now and wish I could have dealt with them in private, and just made peace. I would say that about them all, not that this means there would be a just peace.
I have to assume that there are those of you whom I owe at least my words. There are different ways of seeing this, and I am sure the liars have come up with one after another. Split up the underground. Break up the co olitions of the poor. Is any of that possible anymore? No, not really.
I do not believe that anything which the various secret factions do not agree on will happen. The people have no say. Guns speak louder than microphones and chanting crowds. Day after day we get the lessons on that from around the world.
I can remember writing a book for a future, a revolution that might happen someday, because I surely did not see one happening then... and my religious writing, I thought two women, one in Australia and one in Ireland were the only people who knew about this and believed. That sounds insane now, but this is how insular my world was. A prison more mental than physical, the bars sometimes set up by my own denial? My own wanting to not be responsible for what I did not intend to happen. I could not have predicted this would happen to me, let alone prepare. One thing I could have been, a leader of movements from my radio show, and marches, and using my fame in a way that is frowned upon by the agents who first get ya famous.... was wiped aside by the brainwashing. Did people not know what was done to me? I could feel a new power in me, and the words I wrote seemed from Heaven... the revolutionary poems, as well... the poems written when the only violence I knew of, both seemed absurd to me and I wanted to believe they were lies... the arms cut off, and the women who died when out of my mind with pain and half crazy with not knowing what the hell was happening to me or the world, I wrote attack... I had never seen my words do much of anything, let alone the reaction people were giving me.
I cannot emotionally deal with writing about this right now. I know that is a cop out, but my emotions are getting in the way of my communication abilities...
What you tried to teach me, which I missed at the time, or dismissed as someone trying to give me orders who was intruding on my life by bugging me and taunting me in the media, it seemed to me... I now see much more clearly. I have only what I can extrapolate from my own life what happened, and the horror of not knowing why I was being tested, for what reason... why the media was reacting to me at all was puzzling as hell. It was a hell. If not for God I would have not been able to tell myself, day after day, no matter what they throw at me, I will fight.
I felt like I seldom wrote anything that others had not already written before me. The weight given my every word way too much. I feel it now. The reverence I feel for the women who leapt from buildings, a statement of revolution as I see them now, an announcement we would die to save this world. Selflessness. Though this like much I would not want repeated. I try to honor them, though the first time you saw the horror on my face and my thought that 40 was associated with me, and this woman downtown had went to a lot of trouble to get to the 40th floor to jump from.
I won't repeat what I meant as a joke... I HAVE written this too many times. Apologized and explained and attempted to tell the truth, because no matter how many lies are believed, the truth must continue to exist, in some form, somewhere, no matter how much blood is shed.... I used to 'wear this world' like a loose cloak.' That is no longer possible now....
SO WHAT IS MY PLACE NOW? DOES IT MATTER HOW I SEEM TO YOU? What is happening in the world that I can have an effect on? What not? I know my opinions and asinine reactionaries who will say anything -- I left that liberal pretend mask when I heard what kinds of things you were doing, and planning. The soldiers used. The tactics. I know I was at the center of someone else's Operation. Then when I seemed on my own.... when I was on the cusp of winning, told the flags on the lapels would be replaced with 6's.... I shattered the union. Why? I thought I could... instead, I discovered who I would have been leading into power and I thank God this happened, and those who fought in that seemingly unwinnable battle and lost allies, we stopped them from completely taking over. Whatever group they were muscling for. I understand the system better now and wish I could have dealt with them in private, and just made peace. I would say that about them all, not that this means there would be a just peace.
I have to assume that there are those of you whom I owe at least my words. There are different ways of seeing this, and I am sure the liars have come up with one after another. Split up the underground. Break up the co olitions of the poor. Is any of that possible anymore? No, not really.
I do not believe that anything which the various secret factions do not agree on will happen. The people have no say. Guns speak louder than microphones and chanting crowds. Day after day we get the lessons on that from around the world.
I can remember writing a book for a future, a revolution that might happen someday, because I surely did not see one happening then... and my religious writing, I thought two women, one in Australia and one in Ireland were the only people who knew about this and believed. That sounds insane now, but this is how insular my world was. A prison more mental than physical, the bars sometimes set up by my own denial? My own wanting to not be responsible for what I did not intend to happen. I could not have predicted this would happen to me, let alone prepare. One thing I could have been, a leader of movements from my radio show, and marches, and using my fame in a way that is frowned upon by the agents who first get ya famous.... was wiped aside by the brainwashing. Did people not know what was done to me? I could feel a new power in me, and the words I wrote seemed from Heaven... the revolutionary poems, as well... the poems written when the only violence I knew of, both seemed absurd to me and I wanted to believe they were lies... the arms cut off, and the women who died when out of my mind with pain and half crazy with not knowing what the hell was happening to me or the world, I wrote attack... I had never seen my words do much of anything, let alone the reaction people were giving me.
I cannot emotionally deal with writing about this right now. I know that is a cop out, but my emotions are getting in the way of my communication abilities...
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