My Beautiful World

Title: My Beautiful World

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. My beautiful world, I would be nothing without you. Without your love, I would have no reason to exist. Thank you, my beautiful world, thank you. Here is a gift for you.

Planet Earth.

My last blog post was finished at 12:30am on Monday, 09Nov2015. I slept all morning and woke up in time for breakfast. At 8:51am, I was outside the Pico Branch Library.

My internet gnomes played me Rebel Rouser by my darling Mr. Duane Eddy while I checked my makeup. I sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies at 9:08am.

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I had a lot of writing and thinking to do that morning. I sat there outside the Pico Branch Library eating cookies and sipping caffeine as I checked for world and national headlines. I worked there until 11:22am.

Lunch at noon and dinner at 5pm were both tasty yet uneventful. I had napped in between. Soon after dinner, I took the bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.

There were very few musicians out and about. At 6:04pm, I sat down and caught up with my Tweethearts. I had moved down the street to sit in front of my darling Ms. Jackii B by 6:26pm.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and it made me giggle. My beautiful world, you really do see me in here.

After walking around the Promenade for a while, I caught the 8:20pm bus back to my place. I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm.

I woke up on Tuesday, 10Nov2015, in time for breakfast. By 8:26am, I was outside the Pico Branch Library sipping coffee and working online.

My internet gnomes played me River's Risin' by the Edgar Winter Group. I tweeted my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies at 8:37am.

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I stayed there working online, checking Twitter for world and national headlines, sipping coffee, talking with passersby, and writing until 10:04am when I left to take care of some odds and ends.

By 10:49am, I was on a bus to downtown Santa Monica. I sat down in the courtyard of the Santa Monica Main Public Library with my old buddy Michael over coffee and tea at 11:11am. He is always a great conversation.

I sat down for tacos at my local Jack-in-the-Box after that at 12:27pm. It was nice to see that my local Jack-in-the-Box had become an establishment for lovers and believers.

By 1:11pm, I was on the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade listening to my darling Mr. Frank Ryan. I stopped in Nordstrom's for some hosiery before doing a little window shopping.

I was comfortably seated at the bar in Ye Olde King's Head Pub with a bourbon neat by 2:12pm. About once a month I stop in there. The conversation tends to be high quality between me and the other patrons.

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That afternoon was sparse, so at 2:52pm, I moved to an outside table to get some work done. By 3:16pm, I was back on the Promenade sitting next to my darlings Denmantau as they played.

Denmantau played until 3:38pm before they moved down the street. So, I sat down to an early dinner at 3:47pm. Yes, I went to the Steak'N'Shake. But at 4:25pm, I was back beside Denmantau at their new spot.

I perched in the Santa Monica Main Public Library at 4:51pm. I moved outside at 5:45pm, so my Mom could call me through FaceTime at 6pm. She looked great.

I got caught up in a conversation with a local man named Felix who was originally from New Jersey. I love a good conversation.

My old buddy Michael joined me in the courtyard at 6:48pm, so we could watch the news at 7:15pm. Michael is always a great conversation.

Yes, we streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. Our evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and it made me happy. Sometimes, I just need to feel loved.

After saying good night to Michael, I caught the 7:55pm bus back to my place. I was in my room finishing up this blog post by 8:14pm.

This blog post was finished at 12:10am on 11Nov2015.

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.

What is my favorite song? Ever since my first year of undergrad, my favorite song has been You Look Like Rain by Morphine. Very few songs have stuck with me like it has.

My beautiful world, I love you, too. I have so much work to do with you. I have so much love to show you. I just need my human rights, so I can do my job. Look at how brightly our future together shines. We just need to reach it.

Our long-term solution is arresting everyone guilty of enforcing Obama's "rules." On the short-term, we need to make sure I survive until Obama's "egg" is finally ended. My beautiful world, thank you for all of your help.

My selfless support system, my beautiful world sent you to keep me alive until Obama's "egg" is forced to end. You are part of the short-term solution. So is everyone trying to take me to my house with my husband.

But even a safe place for me to live is not the end of Obama's "egg." Universal disobedience to every "rule" is the best step towards ending Obama's mental Heath genocide. Please love yourselves enough to disobey Obama.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, in so many ways, the Queen's Lovers Five are Obama's punching bag. Please make sure we are taking good care of them.

SynSyn, we need EVIL Iowa removed from my life forever. Just tell me what you need. You can save the world, Syniva. That is your day job. Protecting me protects my beautiful world from losing me forever. We all thank you.

My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, we have begun the long wait until Friday when I might see you again.

My darling MannedUp, what is it like? You once said playing music for me made you feel like God. The night I met my darling Mr. Ry Bradley, he told me he wants your gig.

Darling, due to our connection with each other, you are considered holy in every benevolent religion. What is it like?

My darling GeneralLee, I miss you when we are apart. What does it take to get you enough human rights to play me music again? When there are four of us, the world is a beautiful place.

My darling Bogart, do you remember when I asked you to play me a song, so I could meditate? Giggle. Now that you know what that means, write me something.

My Royal Consort LightFoot whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, we will sort it out.

People I am forbidden from knowing about have been in talks for months trying to end Obama's "egg," but Obama refuses to de-escalate no matter what his representatives promise.

The world is screaming for me to be carried directly to my beloved husband. The only compromise I am willing to accept is living with you, unfettered with no earspeaker and with full control of your own finances, until the "egg" is finally ended in its completeness.

My darling Kris, I need the extra safety of sleeping next to a loved one. But Obama wants absolutely nothing in my life worth living for. He is demanding I suffer as much as possible. Yet, the more he makes me suffer, the more powerful I become.

We will sort something out, darling. Thank you for fighting so hard for me. You really do make me feel loved inside this "egg" devoid of all respect and affection. Thank you.

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, are you doing okay? Do not worry. No one anywhere who has ever met the real me believes I am a man in drag. Obama just spreads those lies hoping I will take nude photos of myself to prove I am a woman, photos he can cheapen me with.

Beloved, the world knows I get my period regularly. No one sane believes I am a man, darling. No one anywhere believes you are a gay man for loving me. I mean, look at me.

My handsome, manly husband, Obama is just trying to blackmail me into doing something disgusting like publishing nude photos of myself. It is the same reason he claims I never shower; he wants me to make videos of myself in the shower.

Obama is just a disgusting pervert, and only perverts repeat such lies about me. Feel free to arrest anyone anywhere trying to put pressure on me to expose myself. I refuse to allow anyone to see me compromised.

Similarly, everyone knows I use the toilet; even though, I refuse to allow anyone to broadcast me using the toilet. They just want a broadcast of my using the toilet, so they can cheapen me. Arrest them all, or make videos of all of them in the shower and on the toilet.

I love you, my hero and my king.