How Do I Begin?

I have not attempted to codify what I truly believe.  Shifted thru where my mistakes show me a truth, etc...  I know this was chaos before when my words tapped into religion.  I fear the blind belief.  I fear the trust that things will happen without material effort.  I fear that all leaders are bad, yet somehow some people seem to almost need them?  Or perhaps they just need to learn to live without one?

I know of the limits of free will in this world, the genes that permit a range of behavior from atrocious to saintly.  I    know that what has happened already will forever taint my image with blood, though I will use this against my enemies, I will still mourn having to wear this mask.   I expected just to me.   I wanted the writing to speak for itself.

Do I have any right to put another word out into the cesspool?   A voice cries NO... then I think of a moment of great honor, when I learned something I had done, of recent, bloodless, I pray, that had made a true difference in the situation in Chicago.   I DO not want to go into it, because it is the work of so many others that tossing out an idea hardly makes me a part of the good.   I  will try to redeem myself for my sins.  Of course I have sinned.  Mostly in my mind.  I do not know if all of the world will care, though I know some do and I believe in them.  The UNIONS are hope.  A peaceful way.  Perhaps if Sanders is elected, get all democrats in the senate and congress and then apply PRESSURE to the hold outs, let the unions thrive.   A natural redistribution of wealth if anti scab laws of some sort are put in place.   WHATEVER...

I see this and know that I must continue of if I have use, despite the feelings of defeatism, of diminished self expectations, are stones around my neck.  I do not want to rule anything was always the point though I finally just wanted to get the hell out from in front of a camera, to no more be asked questions I was not told enough to answer.

 Pretty hard to be grateful to your zoo keepers...   you never forget you are a prisoner.   I know rough world, no room to bitch.   No...

But I will not let you drag down the reputations of all those associated with me with your lies.   I do not know everything that happened, though I certainly understand this was not a group of psychotic scizophrenics or something.  The full range of people from normal to off was there, and planned, ,again, I CAN only imagine.   Not my plan.  No, they inserted my role for the mission, then I destroyed the damn thing.  Then everything really went fucking nuts and if I am right, the fish, the followers of this new Christ, before I knew they existed or what they were doing, were taken out because I  changed my password....  after being broken into for the tenth plus time.

I see it in the book, as well...   but HOW was I...  you know, I see how this all could be a plan, but what I do not understand is if they wanted operation bluebeam, why did they not tell me anything....  it was too maddening.   They made me crazy thinking I would then go along.   I could not help the medical condition I was in, or how horrible reality became without weed... how it pushed me into trances to write within over and over...  suddenly in the Jesus voice, which had been there all along, I imagine.  His beliefs my beliefs, etc...  just never placed in a religious context.   I know the reforms the Catholics could use, but I am not sure it matters...  in the large scheme, though if it stops one child from being raped, it is worth it.   They say that, I mean it.

I do not know what the fuck I am doing writing …. not a word in my head, feeling drugged to the point of almost asleep.