Fuel

What is the lie this time? What is the lie that is keeping my human rights and freedoms away? I cannot think of any reason left why I am denied treatment as a human being in this country; that is how I know they are full of lies.

If I do not drink coffee, I will sleep all day. I learned that this afternoon. My blood sugar is that low. My hunger strike until full human rights is not what anyone would call benevolent rage, but my cranky mood is.

Do you remember an old question Ed Ames once asked?
"'Neath the spreading mushroom tree,
The world revolves in apathy
As overhead, a row of specks
Roars on, drowned out by discotheques,
And if a secret button's pressed
Because one man has been outguessed,
Who will answer?..."

I guess we all know now, but it so awfully hard to do when I have no blood sugar. My body is a little generator, and generators need fuel. That was what I worried about most about my hunger striking. What if something happened and I would have to intervene? And if you do not know what I am talking about, you did not yet speak with NASA about that night last summer when, illegally confined to a torture facility in the UK, I could not sleep. The flash in the sky. The projectiles finding orbit.

Sweetness, I will be here. Come get me when you can. I'll put some popcorn in the microwave; it will be fun. I'm not eating until I get freedom. You might even be able to sing me a song and make me dance. I cannot wait.