I am a troubled soul.
I see things and I care about the poor.
It keeps me up at night, and I have spent more time than I care to remember in trying to remedyr the ills I have created on behalf of my employers who care not at all for the poor.
Oh, yes, my employers care not.
And I despise them for that.
But I am a base creature and must eat.
Still I think about the metaphysical monster I have helped create.
It’s not a physical monster, you see, this New World Order.
It is a creation of all the committees, think tanks and organizations to which the elites belong.
It is a vapor.
Stop them from thinking and communicating, I think, and their New World Order will disappear.
How will I achieve this?
I must disrupt their ability to cross pollinate.
Do I attack their newspapers?
Do I infiltrate their power structure?
No, this will not work.
I must suck the life out of them by destroying that which they hold dear.
And what is that?
Aha, that’s the ticket.
If they knew what I knew they’d kill me.
I am always ready too die.
Let me tell you something my friend, I believe in an afterlife.
I don’t believe that we just exist in the memories of others who are left.
And I don’t believe that God could be so cruel as to take away everything we’ve built up.
Ashes to ashes.
Perhaps in our bodies. But I will never accept that for my soul.
I deny and reject all who would suggest such.
I believe that when we die, we enter a different room.
We are just as alive.
I need to believe this. I will believe this.
I cannot contemplate an existence of nothingness.
When my father died, I asked myself where he went.
He was just here.
Where did he go?
I pretended that he had gone into a different room in to which I could not enter.
I could not see him but he was there.
This helped relieve my pain.
As I say, I am a troubled soul.
That’s why I do what I do?
Could you kill the President of the United States?
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