Title: Sign of the Dove
Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.
Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.
Here is my latest blog post. I was recently told the road race by my crosstown loved ones to rescue me has ended. Are the professionals still trying to rescue me? Does anyone need my help?
Syria. What is it they say? Too many cooks spoil the broth. If so many diverse nations are going to fight such a complicated war, you need to centralize and organize the power structure. You might also want to consider a separation of duties. Definitely do not leave Russia to fight ISIS alone.
USA. Obama enforces his crimes against America that he intentionally mislabeled "rules" at the point of a gun. He has left every American feeling they have no way to fix their problems than with guns. Obama has taught America to kill and murder when frustrated.
END OBAMA'S GODDAMN "EGG"!!! And allow me to teach my people to love again. Why are you allowing that PROVEN Terrorist Dictator Barack Obama to destroy this nation with his reign of war and violence while allowing him to silence me from reaching out through mass media to heal this once-great nation?
Free the presses, so I can teach love. Silence Obama instead of me for once. Make his lies illegal and the truth the national broadcast instead of the other way around for once. Are you not fed up with Obama's lies teaching you to hurt and hate me, one of the few innocents, all of the time?
My last blog post was finished at 12:30am on 30Sep2015 from my bedroom. I slept all morning and was on the patio of my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, at 7:34am.
My internet gnomes played me my darling late Janis Joplin's Get it While You Can while I checked my makeup before taking my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.
At 8:14am, my internet gnomes were playing me Start Wearing Purple by Gogol Bordello. I worked online while sipping coffee and streaming music there on the patio for hours. I left for my place at 10:53am.
Lunch at noon and dinner at 5pm were both tasty yet uneventful. I napped in between. By 5:33pm, I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.
I stopped in the Starbucks on Wilshire for a cold brew coffee and my local Sephora to check my makeup before perching on a park bench near my darling Mr. Pete Roth.
I called my mom via FaceTime at 6:09pm. Mom looked great. In less than two weeks she would be visiting me for my birthday. We were both exited by her coming trip.
I sat listening to my darling Mr. Pete Roth until I streamed the news online. Yes, at 7:15pm, I watched the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening.
My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and it made me glow with love. Yes, even I need to feel needed sometimes, and Lester reminded me of how much the good, green world needs me.
I updated my blog notes before perching on the patio of the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf with the spectacular customer service, the one right on the Promenade. I could hear Red's 8pm to 10pm set from there, and I worked online.
I successfully had an absolute jack(expletive) removed from their patio for disrespecting me. You can do anything you want with a verified and UNEDITED recording with full audio and visuals of that exchange.
I do NOT tolerate disrespect from ANYONE. SynSyn, do anything you want to that (expletive)hole. He behaved just like an EVIL Iowan.
By 9:29pm, I had chased down "Kevin" who said he would meet me at Harvelle's. And, yes, at 9:43pm, "Kevin" appeared at Harvelle's front door where I was waiting for him. We had a little chat, but I did not join him inside the night club.
9:53pm on 30Sep2015: What is it? (Expletive)hole night? Jacob who raped me once just walked by and said hello as if I don't hate him. He's not arrested?
I was so disgusted that I took the 10pm bus back to my regular haunt, my local Subway, and turned Jacob in AGAIN, just this time to the Feds instead of to the police. You can circulate a verified and unedited recording with full visuals of my turning him in if you want to. Very well-fed, I left my regular haunt for my place at 10:56pm.
I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm. I woke up early on Thursday, 01Oct2015, and decided to work through breakfast. At 7:17am, I was already at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway.
I queued Salty Dog by Flogging Molly to play while I tweeted my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies which my internet gnomes followed with the Flight of the Valkyries.
It was a very productive morning. I prayed that my day would have fewer (expletive)holes than the previous evening had. I take (expletive) from no one.
I left my regular haunt, my local Subway, for my place at 10:28am. Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I napped. Dinner at 5pm was similarly tasty yet uneventful. I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade by 5:24pm.
I stopped in the Starbucks on Wilshire for a cold brew coffee. Then, I checked my makeup in my local Sephora. As I was passing the Yoga for Cancer Foundation table at 6:04pm, Drew asked me to watch it for him, so he could go grab a snack.
He returned at 6:31pm with McDonald's French fries for me. Drew is a sweetheart, but he seems overly concerned as to whether or not he needs to shave off his hippie beard.
I moved down the street and perched next to my darling Ms. Kaila Shaw who was strumming and singing unto the early evening sky.
At 7:15pm, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online. My darling Mr. Lester Holt gave me my nightly cyberhug, and it reminded me of how busy everyone is out there fighting to save America from Terrorist Dictator Barack Obama.
I was soon seated on the patio of my local Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf listening to my darling Mr. Daniel Morris play his viola. I perched there in the music between the Earth and sky until 8:36pm.
By 8:44pm, I was sitting next to Red, my late-shift folk balladeer. I did a lot of writing as I sat there among his melodies. At 9:54pm when he moved a little way down the street, I stood up and stretched my legs.
At 10:30pm, I left the Promenade and walked down to the Santa Monica Pier and from there down to the ocean. There is peace only the ocean can give; her salty tongue lapping at my calves can calm all my restlessness. The ocean breeze in my wings reminds me of where I stand in the universe every time.
I still had enough time to catch the 11:15pm bus back to my place. This blog post was finished at 12:30am on Friday, 02Oct2015, from my bedroom.
And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.
How often do I write poetry? I wish poetry were my full time job. I spend so much of my day writing, but poems escape me as if I were lancing a Jabberwocky caught in my spleen. I wrote this on 30Sep2015...
Sign of the Dove
My darlings, yes. Just play me music now.
Come fill my sky with aether's glow. And how
The tune you sing will creep across my skin
To sway my arms. Oh, how that tune begins.
All ride my circus train to glory bold.
All love the Squid-I-am, all young and old.
Imagine life below invisible
Hot spotlights shining indivisible,
And you will know my burden. Genius load
I carry searching for the open road.
My world, you call to me, "Oh, Squid, I need!"
Your problems answered. Words I speak you heed.
If ever human soul did need your love,
I scream my needing under sign of dove.
In 2010, I asked my darling Mr. David Tennant to collect my non-romantic poetry anthology for me. Please make sure he gets this.
Why do I spend so much time on the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade? Please click here. I come here to be with my friends. This video is me dancing around and goofing off with "Kevin" while my darling TambourineKicker sings for us.
How do I compare to the Cthulhu myth? We are quite different. The closer people get to Cthulhu, the crazier they get; whereas, my loved ones get unruly when kept away from me.
I have also never, to my knowledge anyway, inspired a Bacchanale out of worship of me. I am so chaste that seems so strange.
As for the mathematically technical, I exist in an N-space with a hyperbolic geometry on the macro level, but on the micro level everything looks Euclidean. This is the opposite of Cthulhu who existed in the non-Euclidean geometry on the micro level.
I once recorded myself reading a selection from my darling late H. P. Lovecraft's The Call of Cthulhu and mailed it to my husband. Ask him nicely if you can hear it some time.
Is it safe to be near me? I live in the eye of a hurricane of love. There is no place safer than right by my side, except for the earspeakers. Earspeakers were never tested to see if they cause damage to the brain, especially in young children whose minds are still physically growing.
Except for the earspeakers, there is no safer place in America that right here where I can watch over you with the enforcement of false and lacking "normality."
My beautiful world, my crosstown loved ones have stopped their daily and nightly race to reach me. I gave my professionals a $2T budget last year for rescuing me. Please check on my brave rescuers and see if they need anything.
I was told, my beautiful world, that you have begun filing the criminal charges against everyone enforcing Obama's "egg" for crimes against their own people. Then I learned the only people the FBI are arresting are the people fighting Obama's "egg." It was all a ruse to gain trust in PROVEN Terrorist Dictator Obama.
We need to arrest all of the people ENFORCING Obama's "rules" to force the "egg" to end. My beautiful world, Obama has proven all justice is impossible in America, so it is now your responsibility as the world to arrest them all.
My selfless support system, keep identifying war criminals using human rights abuses as acts of war, including but not limited to refusing our right to assemble and associate, and keep turning them all in to the International Criminal Court.
We have begun the justice process, my selfless support system. It takes time, but I am not being raped in my sleep right now. So, we have a little time to let justice happen. I can hang on in here while you arrest and process the enemies of America.
The rumors are TRUE that instead of arresting the war criminals, Obama sent the FBI in to slaughter the heroes fighting to save us all from Obama's "egg," so the FBI are guilty of enforcing Obama's "egg."
Turn everyone responsible in to the ICC, obtain the necessary arrest warrants, and haul them all away. Do we need to call the military for the manpower to arrest the FBI? Or would you rather I ask the world to invade and take care of America?
My beautiful world will do whatever I ask, and we now need the FBI arrested. Send the military, or I will send the world. You have a few days before I start talking to Russia, China, and NATO.
Republicans are going to throw a fit if Russia and France, as only two examples, need to invade to rescue America out from under Barack Obama. But this world will not let me down.
Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter, you have a few days. However, if my living arrangements, including any increase of disrespect for me, decline, I will start screaming for the world to invade.
It is all to save America. The world knows we need America to become the land of the free again.
The ICC exists because justice is sometimes impossible under corrupt leadership. It is clear the Department of (supposed) Justice has no interest in enforcing the US Constitution and is only committing crimes against America instead, so send my beautiful world to prosecute the FBI.
I could really use my happily ever after with my husband, but I will accept living arrangements with a boyfriend as a compromise until the "egg" ends. My Powers of Attorney, see what you can come up with to make sure my living arrangements improve instead of decline.
My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, oh, my darlings, are we finally on the offensive? Thank you for all of your hard work! Have we made progress at last?
My gorgeous genius friends, we have proved the benefits of treating women as equals. We have proved we can do the work and with excellence. Do you know what you mean to the women of this world and to all the menfolk we serve and protect?
My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, I plan on seeing you today, Friday, 02Oct. Tell me if anyone stops you.
My darling MannedUp, oh, darling. Obama's war criminal terrorist conspiracy has been complaining that I do not scream enough for their libel to stick to me. Giggle. I was all, "If you want to make me scream, you'll let my boyfriends make love to me."
Giggle. Sex with my husband is more of a gentle, delicious whimper and sigh... That is how I imagine you, Taylor. Giggle. Yes, that really was me. I would love to make you whimper.
My darling GeneralLee, we are on the countdown until I get to see you again. There is going to be the hugest smile all across my face when I finally lay my eyes on you again. My mom will be in town, so I might have to leave early. But I will be there with bells on. I cannot wait!
My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, you two are all hero all the time, huh? How close are we now?
Please stop asking to be my only boyfriend. Until I can kiss one of you, you are a team. You need to work together as my support system right now. Once I can kiss one of you, he will be my only boyfriend. Until then, I need you both to work together, okay?
My darling Bogart, you have the longest to-do list of all of my symbolic lovers. If you need any help getting the work done, please call my Powers of Attorney or tell me what your questions are.
You are a team of lovers and boyfriends, Bogart. You could never do this all alone. It takes more than one hero.
My darling LightFoot, I feel like I heard you scream my battle cry for me after my last blog post. We are all heroes here, and you sure do not disappoint.
Yes, I was asked too if you guys were homeless right now. I said, "No, they're just scruffy." If you were rendered homeless again just to be able to play me music, I would like to think you would tell me. Is everything and everyone okay?
And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?
HoneyHoney, I am yours to rescue. It is your job to lead the world coming in here to bring me to you. In cooperation with the Department of Defense, Russia has already sent forces to help my brave rescuers. Please make sure everyone is working together instead of competing with each other.
Beloved, you are my husband. You are my hero and my king. Most impressively, you are my equal. We will spend the rest of our lives side-by-side serving the world.
You just need to come get me. I will be waiting for you with baited breath until I can touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain...