I think I’ve had a pretty successful day. Like from the kiss record, I deserve to give myself a round of applause, let’s go!

I don’t even know if I can remember that far back as this morning. That was so long ago. That was so many things ago. What a world I live in. I don’t recommend this. I don’t even recommend this for me. This shit is bad for my health. If all I want is some fucking clean air before I die, how did I know that it was all out war against me?

Because now I start looking way back. How many people did not want me to know nature? How many people in my life purposely made sure that there was not a minute or a second of any day ever where I might actually get a look at nature. Like, all of my family and all of my friends or maybe even my own hysterical and disgusting personal habits handed to me by people with ludicrously horrible habits and not a single person to bother to have a conversation about this anywhere along the way.

I understand now that it is growing up with books as my friends other than people that words have more meaning to me than people. I find most books to eventually be honest to a particular goal. Perhaps it is to show bravery like my friend Mr Hemingway. Or perhaps it is to show what you can do with your heart and your own two hands like Mr London taught us so well. With Mr shakespeare, you learned that if you spoke english, you were a compromised lying motherfucker. But you could make the language really beautiful sometimes just by bringing out a little Italian or something like that where it sung and moved. I prefer a little darker skin. I find the English particularly reprehensible in the modern world for basically being one of the prime movers and shakers of fucking us to death. And thou shalt die a thousand deaths and we shall turn all of your children into whores and no one of your line will know peace on this planet for the ills that you have brought forth onto it. Dig?

So today started with an outburst. I had managed to convince myself eventually to go to sleep. The issues of the demonstration over Shabbos and residual anger and any thoughts that I might have as to what actual criminal damage has been done to me, physically and the psychologically. And if we consider the fact that I am a working writer that is occasionally paid for my work, this brings a particular value to the amount of money that I perhaps have lost by having every single day of my life spoiled intentionally. As to the legal point, the issue is intent to commit crime. Perhaps there was an argument that it was just that I have some personal flaw and therefore I’m not allowed to have senses of smell and taste and sight and hearing. I am not allowed to make 8 Miles complaints to a psychotic black chicken in asking her if she can stop pecking at my pecker and move her fucking car to the other side of her yard so I don’t have to breathe her fucking stage in my kitchen. This I say loudly because I am angry. I am very very angry and I am yelling quite coherently so the people who offend me who are criminally acting against me and has been criminally acting against me for two solid years what or listen without being condemned by the police or ignored by the police, very very selves acted knowingly in the commitment of a violent crime. That’s crime was committed against me and everything and everyone in the vicinity of them.

Sometimes I get to typing so loud that the machine just can’t take it.

So I had an outburst. I considered it a reaction. I went outside. It is Monday. It is a Monday that I have chosen not to make a utopian. Just like that. Actually, there are some good justifications for this action. It’s July. It’s very hot. It’s stupid hot to try and make your brain do things like having to read the legal code of the Republic of Belarus and then going back point by point that I have found that makes them guilty in almost every legal ethical moral and logical sense of the word of a rather severe crime. This is a crime that is considered a crime everywhere on the planet in the legal documents. I also don’t really like to think of the level of corruption of the world around me if I actually took the trouble and wasted more of my July just to stop a maniacal psychotic criminal from committing crimes. This is technically, a serial criminal. In fact, if we just play psychologist for a moment, not to be the lawyer but the psychologist,…