Decency like a good Christian man in a black Coat

Decency

The File number is D101200016.

Notes by Time an Act of War

I sent a new e-mail to the Detroit Canada Consulate. This one if you are an American from the North or South, and if you understand anything written or said in subtle terms that this e-mail was nothing short of an act of war. If this E-mail were sent or delivered via a pony express or a horse and rider during the older times of the 17th century to a king or queen or whatever ruling authority that it was meant for, it would be interpreted as an act of war. These times as a president or King or Parliament, Prime Minister, it is also sure be understood and subtlety understood as a written note for a prelude to war. I don’t have a kingdom to back me however, and I am not a leader or President or king. So I can’t back my note of "Act of War" with any measurable force. But if I could then that would just make the letter the exact same. But bolder, perhaps I could act just one more line, ."Force should be right; or rather, right and wrong,
between whose endless jar justice resides,
should lose their names, and so should justice too.
Then everything includes itself in power,
power into will, will into appetite;
and appetite, an universal wolf,
so doubly seconded with will and power, must make perforce an universal prey
and at last eat up himself." 

Decency

    Canadians are to be too stupid to interpret an act of war when laid out for them in plain English. I am going to drink a bottle of wine today and watch that Leonardo Di Caprio film, have my own Obama Nero led fantasy vacation. As my dad slaves away at work. I am a slave right now in bondage, and now willing to seek the aid of psychics and going to write my own fanciful letters of a mental illness I have and also right to seek work in Canada.

   I must go to that awful place, to work and become my own Johnny Depp or my own person. Like the version of Mark that I saw in a dream last night who was walking around New York city and wearing a dark black coat and just walking leaning forward, hearing a musical performance somewhere. I felt great and alive because I was in a city. There was a city park with trees. That is why I think a lot of people in Fargo are always blowing their noses and depressed, there is no skyline here. No city and no culture. And the home-grown people here destroy any possibility of culture that might try to put on a black coat. I remember that dream, walking it was night. It had just rained maybe a day before. It was beginning to feel like fall.

   I talked to a blonde girl in a nice looking tight white shirt in the dream. And I immediately drew the ire of a jealous brunette girl. That just shows that my heart will always yearn for the perfect saintly blonde with big boobs. Like the Aryan mother of my perfect children, maybe, they are just better and se_ier. Even in a perfect cultured society, I will crave the blonde, and immediately become one with wanting that. And to enjoin the city as an alpha male who likes to just roam around the city and experience its delicious sights and sounds.

   The skyline was reminiscent of New York city, although I have not been there. That was what it was. And my accent I think was a New York accent. I had even developed a New Yorker attitude. I walked in a diagonal way, like to the southwest, cutting across the city as if I had already been there many times and as if that was a city that I knew. Maybe kind of like Dallas or Fort Worth or Houston, how I could imagine myself cutting through those places. Becoming one with the skyline and music and seeing hot blondes. I know that there were other things there like a feeling of 9/11 the terror attacks. But this was a rebuilding and I was rebuilding myself and the city was already rebuilt. It felt good like a New age. The women were still a big thing I was working through, but I was working through it.  It was a good dream.