Jack and Lee 13

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.

That’s okay.

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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