STERLING’s JOURNEY
5 years working thru national reporters n politicians tryna sav da worl. Started during COVID. It mushroomed from there. Public Speaking honed thru 10+ years training divemasters captains and divers built upon upon 10+ years public speaking and project management of complex comprehensive water resource and disaster relief issues requiring high close coordination with govt and NGO officials at local, state and federal levels.

Who knew these skills n talents translated into solving major issues du jour using social media and direct contact? Or was it simply all the hours BSing w friends across a lifetime debating how to Sav Da Worl? Dunno. But somehow someway my impact was felt. For Betta o Worse. Whether any particular party wanted my help or solutions at any particular time. As they say, get outta the middle of the road or you’ll get hit from Both Sides. N man did I get hit. By a semi. Rolled like a bale of hay. Tossed like a sack of trash. Which of course I’m NOT! But I’m getting ahead, or is it behind, myself.

After another year of working soft landing, debt ceiling, budget 20-24 averting recession, tryna get that dam Natl Security Bill working with and thru Speaker Pelosi, Speaker McCartney and Speaker Johnson. Tag on IMMIGRATION: Border Bill, Nov 2023 -Mar 2024. Things went crazier than my worst 3 EXS. Unlike Zha Zha Gabor, I didn’t keep the houses, but I do have huge condo payment. That was atop working the Infrastructure Bill, Inflation Reduction Act addressing clean water, prescription drugs n related medicare budget breakers. 2021-22.

Best Effort? Evacuating those 100,000 people from Afghanistan after botched withdrawal Aug 2021. DOD n later National Security Council used my press handling recommendations to steer clear of major iceberg sized real damages and public relations hazards.

Stick w me here almost to the good crazy part.

YEP, I shared Public speaking tips, gestures, soundbite development and rhyming tricks of the trade with Power Pols including Cuomo, Newsom, Bashear, Asa Hutchison, and Larry Hogan. Presidential Candidates Nikki Hayley and Doug Bergum too, correlate their sudden rise!

I jumped KalamaBiden ship aft one aide dropped me n the ball so many times, Webster changed the picture next to fumble. That someone needs to address safety in US streets n in the FreeWorl in general. Too many wars. Too much terrorism. So worked with multiple participants during the Republican National Convention identifying highlights, priorities and public speaking tips incl Marco Rubio, J.D. Vance and the Trumps. Stayed True even tho Vance keeps killing us with crazy cat lady crap n keeping Ukraine intact is not necessary to world peace when this is huge deterrent.  Instead Dictators rattling chains n collaborating like Lex Luther meets Joker n 5 other Usual Suspects about to take over the Free Worl. N what do Superman Batman n Underdog decide to do? SERIOUSLY u gonna take a month off for the Holidays, College Bowls n SuperBowl 2024? Cover your eyes for 2025.

Abstained from the Democratic National Convention. not only disagreement on aforementioned safety n national security concerns, but Dems stiffed me on a rather large tab n all sorts of benefits delayed or denied. Technically entitlements, but that word sounds like I didn’t do the work or meet the bureaucratic requirements. I DID. 10,000 times over. DEMS just change the rules n don’t pay their tabs. Hell, they even assign me double or nuttin when I say Hell No.

This not enuf to stop this echelon of Dems. They just watched n copied without my consent. Much like tbe watchers in the Book of Genesis, nuttin good ever comes of it.

DEMs via Big Bro pulled set-ups on live cam my interactions with random people, helping little boys in the pool to dive and working through multiple billing issues on the phone with customer service reps. My approaches were copied, disseminated and adopted by many. Most notably, as played in SNL recently their suveillance provided the framework for Vice President Harris’s new persona, approach, platform and stances on major issues du jour. That she adopted rather than developed my skill set and accomplishments is evident in that she can barely recite the cliff notes, much less explain any actions getting results or objectives satisfied or how developed actions address the issues du jour.

The fun good part now long gone with the wounds of a Cat5 shoulda been Cat 10 back to back hurricanes, was the 10+ Years where I founded and ran a boat scuba charter and instruction biz in the Caribbean.

Did everything from equipment maintenance to teaching to tax prep to taking em diving to a whole new level, and driving the boat. My Forte? Leading more experienced divers to challenging sites; working with terrified beginners. 1000’s students as references.

Sadly much of my work plagiarized and adopted sans permission. On The Other Hand they do say Imitation is Sincerest Form of Flattery. Since thousands are walking around talking and gesturing like I do in colloquial, interview or spec settings, the Proof must be in the Pudding.  They say a lot. They also say I the best instructor. Most are heartfelt, terrififed beginners. Most impressive compliment? Superintendent New York Department Education saying I best teacher ever seen. Funnier yet, the military workers say I need to improve my communication writing n speaking skills, even the President as they call me incompetent while off with my shtick n work they walk, adding insult to injury, salt in the wounds so to say.

Either way enjoyed my time and now 1000’s walking around in my heels. Trainer Heels compliments of my English Teacher and Basketball Coach for best of 7 years who made us write write and write.  He taught us to do things the Same Right Way Every Day, Then when it hits the fan, the routine will carry you through.

Did that for 10 years til one day when they tol me Dad’s aorta burst. If i want to see him i best get there right away.  But I’m 36 hours away so I take my divers anyway. I so scattered til i pick up my packing list. When I get to the site, sure as spit, my routine carried me through. When done I called n Dad, he too made it through. We had another 7 years! 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 all good children go to Heaven, as Grandma used to chant every night as i watched her play Solitaire before bed. Sometimes God lets a few naughty ones sneak in too!

These Days As I sit trapped in Rapunzel’s Tower watching life slip by hour after hour, my mind spits ideas like sugar draws honey bees and dew grows flowers. Plagariazed by unregulated wannabees, enslaved by rich captors making monoey offfa me, trafficked like a human Barbie Wind-up Doll for Power Pols, CEOs and warmongering sports addicts betting like crackheads playin street dice, drooling for their next chance to win.

Not that these modern day pirates honor or even collect on their bets. Too oft stuck on Double or Nuttin, the House’s best gimmick to-date, for the gambler addicted to the rush never stops, so ulitmately every win catapults back to NUTTIN. No, the hit for the gambler is the rush of the win or loss. The hit for the Pirate running the game is from beating down and walking on a “lesser” subHuman.

So I sit behind closed curtains spinning lemon peels into gold for Power Pirates only to have cathacks steal, sell and hold. They send in the clowns to distract delay and divert my attention away from completing works that may reveal their game. Some sent to keep me spinning are betta than utters, but really all are mother dadadas. Buy a book or tee from me cuz in the age of disinformation truth ain’t doing its job; Imitation is a serious abomination.

O to return back to the Glory Days before Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms, Drug Enforment Agency other Alphabet Soup and Military Schmucks run amok ran the rich and unelite using drivel learned from 24/7 surveillance. Deployed on the general public under the guise of Terrorist Monitoring, their evil game of Karats n Styx catches unsuspecting flies with a simple, “Go out on this limb.” Once you there, they hand you the axe and ask, “Would you like to do the honors yourself or shall we?” So please Buy a book or tee and the truth will set me free. But either way, don’t kid yourself that Power Pols of either US either flavor gonna fix this mess. Lord knows I’ve done my damndest working through the majors and minors one at a time from the bottom of Chain of Command all the way to the top, both sides of the Aisles, all the way to the pope. After this I wrote, did you see Secretary of the DOD went to visit the Pope? Wonder if he frightened a little mouse under his robe?

Just as suddenly an arctic blast from the past cooled off the blazing Sahara Desert Heat. Not so funny, during the Republican National Convention my last greatest Ex arose from the Dead. Lord they said his Dad filthy rich, and said Mom n Dad tried to tell me I’d never worry about money again. But me, I say, I don’t wanna know. I wanna make my own fortune not like some wait and pray for your death. As in any classic Zombie movie, my Ex rattled chains and revealed he’d been the one haunting me. But this Tortured Poet didn’t even know it.

After our breakup 1000 years ago it took me a year to get over heartache and hurt. Some say I never have. I truly believed he and I be sitting on the porch in our rocking chairs at age 80. So did he. Trouble was we couldn’t see each other together anywhere other than the side of bar each day in the here n now.

Eventually I moved on. Really forgot about him and our pain; kept busy enough. It never occurred to me that he was still the vindictive pluck who swore to run me outta business as I took the shot at living my dream of that mom n pop dive shop, sans pop.

That I survived that hurdle and at the end of the first season turning more divers away than I could take floored me. Never underestimate the power of good work combined with happy customers who had just done something they never thought they would do, like trying scuba diving in the Caribbean. That sort of high octance adrenaline sport fuels gratitude and appreciation like no other. That and they said I was the best instructor ever.

Alas also never underestimate the power of a vivdictive man with a wounded ego who just inherited billions of dollars. It never occurred to me that everytime someone said I was the best, it deflated Ex’ ego and wounded his inner child like that lil boy watching his 3 balloons get burst on his 3rd birthday. Or else he just plain born evil. Either way, one day I get a call. 15 years later and after the hurricanes wiped me out.

“Sterling, you sitting down?”

“Not yet, but I can.”

“Its JXZY”

“OMG JXZY I haven’t thought about you in years. How are you and JABC doing?

“We Great. But I got some really bad news for you. X left Happy Hour 2 weeks ago and wrapped his truck around a tree. It exploded. 2 Marines were following him and pulled him out. He’s been in a coma. They don’t think he’s gonna make it.”

“WOW. Wowo. Wow.” is all I can say.

JXYZ continues. “I know you guys aresn’t on the best terms.”

“That an understatement.” I manage to eke out.

We exchange sweet emoitions and fond memories, and he leaves me with a touching, “But If it were me I’d wanna know.”

So I got X’s dad’s phone number. Long story short for this particular exercpt. We too shared sweet emotions, fond memories and a warm commesuration over the terrible tragedy. I called back after we departed even though I knew the answer, “Shall I come?” I softly asked. Dad said, “He died.” Now unbelievable as that was, I’ve seen this act before when someone on death’s door waits for closure.

It’s over the holidays. With only 10 days to pack, arrange travel, say goodbye’s, I had little time to ponder the possibilities. I’mcstarting a new job in the islands. So whether to ease the pain or whether it’d been so long since i moved on, that was the last I thought of it. Until 5 years later, in July during the Rpublican National Convention, a whopper landed on me. He’s Alive. He’s been tortuing you. My Ex lived in Texarcana.

One of the WTFNOW reporters at the RNC pops up with, “Its Ex.”

“But they told me he was dead.” Was all I could eke out as i pulled my heart outta my toes and my butt off the floor. That hit me like 440 volts. Just like anyone whos gone through a major earthquake and year of aftershocks can tell you the magnitude of a small quake, After 2+ years of electroshock torture, I’m getting pretty good at estimating voltage.

“Well he’s as alive as you and me. Or at least me.” WTFNow said under his breath. And suddenly it all made sense. Oh did I mention besides Dad being filthy rich and his best buddy was a Mucky Muck at InternetGrande, turned sumtin sumtin, sumtin sumtin, ultimately acquiring WTFNow and JXZY Brothers? With a lil Brothers Grimm and SportsTennae Network thrown in for flair?

Now as a lightning bolt, it all came together like birds of a feather. That why all my content was plagarized without so much as a token finders fee, content creator gig, or any job created for me. It Xplains 3 Catch n Kill Novels, 5 Kid’s Book knockoffs, lord knows how many movies songs generated. I can’t even count the Grammys and Oscars. Watching those sends shivers down me timbers. Its like watching my novels come to life. These guys got nuttin on Roberta Flax, Strumming my pain with his fingers, Killing me softly with his song whether the original or the amazing reggae version by the Fujies.

No, my novel “Music at Sunset” is still in draft. Every time i work on it Strange Happenings take a Dangerous Turn. My first Masterpiece now longer than “War and Peace” meets “Dr. Zhivago” with more remakes that “Lethal Weapon” n more hits than Kris Kristoferson or the other long list of recently dead after Honorable Mention in my stories. Tracking these versions is twistier than chasing toronadoes through Oklahoma. No I’ve Never Been to Spain. That is a classic song by Three Dog Night, my original Emotional Support Animal who Helped Me Make It Through the Night back when I was Eleven, and announced that though grandma’s house is a great version of Heaven, teasing at school is too much. I now am too old to spend the week-end there.

Meanwhile, (Another remake of my story. I hear “One Woman” is almost as good as Wonderful Tonight.) Take last night for example, the Custom Combiners finish, after spending 26 hour in my field of nightmares which only took 2 hours to chaff. Long story. It begins to rain. A lightening storm from Hell pops outta nowhere. There I am. Middle of an open field with a 4 hour show of Hot Pink Lightening Bolts dancing around me like I’m on stage at the Grand Old Opry or Madison Square Gardens. Yep where they play plaigarized songs I scoped and scored without my presence. Lord if only i could, but I can’t sing. I can however write and rhyme with rhythm. A fitting end, for the first night i spent in the field of nightmares in a little tin can camper a lightening storm hit n i woke with my phone dead. Dude I thought it was gonna be me. There was no space tween the thunder n lightning bolts. God n Heaven ain’t ready for me or else i got more work to do on Earth, cuz those 2 bookend storms shoulda ended my story. I’m sure thats why they flared. In 3 months six other Hailstorms and Heavy Tornoado hits. A couple tornadoes touchdown, a summer the likes of which our little town ain’t neva seen before. The Camper I had to acquire because my exit plan exploded, the well I drilled contaminated neva finished, n the farm still in the dark cuz the electrical people no can do it now for 1000 reasons and anotha.

Anyway. Now it all makes sense. All the torture, problems with my accounts, with Mom’s inheritance. That whole mess with my thieving bother, I mean brother. How the judges and attorneys roll over like lap dogs. My favorite attorney joke, “Why don’t lawyers go to the Beach?” “I dunno. Y lawyers no go to da Beach?” “They afraid a kitty gonna come along n bury em.” Ba Dum Dum.

Makes no diff whether trapped in a condo tower or in a field 1000 miles from nowhere I’m just a Midwest Farmer’s Daughter either way. I been screwed, boo’d and tattoed, as X used to say. Now I know why. Or did he die and his buddy and dad decided they no like my portrayal of him in my book. There’s no way to tell this story without mentioning the 2 year delay in Texarcana that felt like a lifetime, or how my dream of a Mom n Pop Shop only could happen sans Pop? Two sides to every story, but mine is much closer to the unabridged version of truth than his; yet, through it all I tried to take care of him and preserve our friendship. Until I didn’t. Then I simply left. I didn’t do anything mean vindictive or vengeful. I just moved this time, to other side of town, even though I came first making our side home first and introduced him around.

My sin apparently? I told people what he done. If that what bugs him most, now i tellin the world, not just our tiny lil island town. Somehow either the whole world accepts that telling n spilling dirty laundry is worse that the domestivc abuse that creates the story and split or he’s told a whopper. Prolly I’ll never know.

But with that, All Y’all heres a sample of one of my books, Chapters 1, 3 and 2, Just for you. It may ring a familiar bell, since these stories been caught in a Catch, Kill, Plagarize n Release F150Trillion Ponzi Scheme without me, but I got the receipts. If you like humor or satire, check out my Sterling’s Journey Comic Strip and oddd-man out SHOT-SKI Crazy Ex Out Blurbs. Websits and 5 more novels underway. Still trying to get the first 2 books published in March and April 2023 set fee. Who knows when that will be? Enough Delays, Distractions, Denials, Here are your free very Public Trials!

VERTIGO OF MY SOUL
Prologue
Scene opens to a beautiful golden-brown cat with dark tipped tufted ears and a baby Siamese kitten 3 feet behind her playing follow the leader. The mountain looking cats slither out between louvers in a Spanish casa window. If you’ve never been to outer islands, windowpanes are akin to slats on blinds, where louvers are the panes of the window itself. It’s easier for the 4-month-old top cat o da litter to squeeze through than it is for mama. Single file on tip toes, they tightrope walk the 1-inch top of the black wrought iron balcony railing that spans the house. It’s a 20 foot drop below. In sync, mama and her baby jump 8 feet to the pool house roof next door. They scamper across only to jump down an angling tree branch then prance down to the lawn below.

No fireman is needed to get these cats down from anything. If you didn’t see it yourself, you’d never believe it. They let themselves out that way every day after they come to greet me when I get home. Never did catch them inside, so not sure if this is only a one-way routine. I do often come home or wake to gifts on my front doorstep. Mostly dead baby chicks. The little one is so much smarter than mama. The first time that baby kitten brought a half dead baby chick inside mi casa, I screamed “GET THAT OUT OF HERE”; loud enough to wake the dead, as my beloved grandma used to say. I chased him out before he set it down. He never brought me such horrific gifts again. Mama cat is not nearly so bright. She keeps bringing n bringing these unwelcome gifts.

Me, I’m inside, sitting in my red recliner. I didn’t pick it. Came with the house. Too high quality to toss; too expensive to replace. I’ll just live with red leather in an otherwise not red room.

Seriously? A glitch in the software again as I turn on the computer. OMG almost lose the whole file. WTF? Plus, 3 days in a row, a large heavy indoor palm plant moved all by itself. The one right in front of the window. The second night I awoke from that unsettling dream — someone running across the hall. Was it a dream? Did they plant a bug in my computer? Try to crash it? Copying files?
Or are they here to check out 5000 pages of draft copy? That fits with the couch moving on its own again too. Really? 8 inches forward and 6 inches to the side? Yes, a man’s 8 inches. Right where you can reach my diary, log, and drawings. Sure makes accessing my papers easier. It appears someone is interested. If only I knew who. The crazy thing is that there are so many unusual suspects who’d benefit from my schtuff. This ain’t no Clo-Dumbo episode with only one suspect. NOTE: Since I submitted this to the Publisher, they reviewed old records and busted the guy who took down the PanAm flight that took down PanAm. Not implying causation, just citing facts.

So many possibilities exist that it blows one’s mind. My diary, pictures, visualization boards are rife with great sex scenes, stunning underwater panoramas a lot of drama-trauma from love unrequited and requited. There’s quite a bit about how men mess up the life of a good woman, and vice versa. Well not so much versa. Its love stories. Its corporate plagiarism. Its paintings. Its pictures of paradise found in a vivid colorful world under clear blue tropical waters. Serenades abound from a hot young musician’s guitar that transports me to outermost galaxies. The trip is now in full color thanks to NASA’s recent release of Webb Telescope photography. Before my flight was in a black box, now it’s in full color as I hop n skip from galaxy to cartwheeling galaxy.

The hard part, the pain, the death-grip hold someone puts on love consummated by outlandish deals crosscutting underground drug dealers, prescription and otherwise, international intrigue, all under the auspices of Big Brother’s ever watchful eye. How to distinguish between coincidence and intricate connectivity? Does he want me as much as I want him? Or is it just another illusion to trap me in this limbo where everyone else profits from my work and disability? Damn even Rehab is happier with me home 95% of the time. Even my cat’s life is better than mine! Not that I begrudge him that for he is my little lover boy. Yes, even that statement was twisted by those inclined to discredit me, as though that is a sexual statement. I mean, REALLY. When there are so many hot willing young men, why would I need a cat? Gimme a break.

I’m just a dive instructor who wanted a Mom n Pop Scuba Shop of her own and couldn’t get it together with the right Pop. We can all agree, not for lack of trying. Oh, the stories I will tell, but I’m getting ahead of myself. Another habit I just can’t kick. I’m either ahead, behind or doing 3 things at a time. FOCUS, they say.
My reply? I am focused. Just on many things at once. They say most people can handle 2 or 3 things going wrong at once. Many can handle 4. 5? Very few. 5 or more is where that universal answer lies to a small plane crash or inexplicable ship run aground, Pilot Error. Me? I’ve gotten pretty good at handling 8, 9, even 10 crises at a time. Can’t seem to get out of that rut. So many hurdles leaves no time for taking care of me.

That sliding glass balcony door ain’t moving itself either. The rail is NOT self-cleaning. It was way too heavy for me to move it before, much less now that I’m hobbled. House Bound. Chair Bound. Can barely walk. Unless you call it walking and normal when you must use bands to lift your legs so you can take a 12 to 18 inch stride, lift your legs more than 1/2 an inch and crutch for a block once, maybe twice a day. I don’t.

My crutching is pretty much limited to what you can do with Achilles Tendons, hamstrings and toes. Toes strong and skinny now after 2 months balancing my full body weight on crutches. No longer my typical 125 pounds, 139.9 ain’t bad, but its more than I’d like and now mostly about my middle. UGH. That is until this injury. One teensy tiny sliver of silver Christmas tinsel in an otherwise long, bleak winter is my middle looks better. Yes, that is a palm tree against an emerald green volcanic mountain backdrop, or as they say here, Esmerelda Verde, in the background. Bleak is a matter of perspective, is it not.

Unfortunately, the Workman’s Comp doctors are calling that walking, and normal. A far cry from my former yoga dancer-cise routine, which to jazz it up included doing the YMCA with my legs and cheerleader high kicks and splits. Yes, still can do the splits. In high school, I was the one theyd lift to do the splits across two sets of shoulders. I’ve done some version of leg exercise a couple times a day ever since. Tina Turner legs don’t just happen, now do they? Had I only taken out the policy she has with Lloyds of London all my worries would be over. Not long aft penning this Tina’s life is over too. Same day i finally get to see my bear’s sound track live. Yep the one who made a song at a time to get me thru the nite. But who would ever think after all those daily leg exercises my entire adult life either leg would ever fail me, much less both. At the same time! I leg press 220 pounds, for heaven’s sake.

Yes, I finally get back in the pool by dropping down on my bum and bouncing in. Then I do a few bounce laps. A week after I start my bounce, “Big Miracle” n Bounce; hit the frequent play feed again. That’s the movie about saving three whales trapped under the ice. This whale family bounces out of the water just long enough to catch a breath before going back under. Must be what I look like if you’re flying a drone over the pool or watching from a neighboring high-rise. Couple weeks later a new reggae song, “Bounce” a collaboration of 3 favorite local musicians hits the radio waves. Next thing, all the little kids in the pool are bouncing too.

I didn’t make the connection at first. These things take time. Human Nature is to disregard the first several of a series of coincidences. Its what gives those inclined towards, NO GOOD, a head start and makes it so much harder for the good guys to catch them once there are too many coincidences to discard. “Up to NO GOOD” was Grandma’s way of describing all sorts of atrocities. Her mantra was, “If you can’t say something nice about someone, don’t say anything at all.” Problem with that is bad behavior continues cuz it’s never called out.

Getting back out of the pool? Now that’s a nightmare. Thank God when I bend at the waist my palms lie flat on the floor. The only way for me to get back on my feet is to push up with my left hand, right hand on the crutch, as I back into standing. That’s a one-a-day maneuver too. And, no, not every day. In the pool? Can’t do any standard kick. Not flutter. Not scissors. Not whip. Fins in the ocean? Out of the question. This really sucks because swimming has been my livelihood and life since I was a kid. More importantly, the ocean is my salvation and outlet. But other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?

Now the City is trimming the palm trees at my eye level. 11th floor of a high-rise condo? Seriously? How about the 2 palm trees right in front of my unit cut down last week, or the pink balloon that suddenly stuck in the palm tree that points right at my window? Someone adding or taking out cameras? Or both? Taking down the bad guys’ cam and putting up the good guys’ cam? Vice versa? For city trucks and a whole Spectrum crew are parked in the complex round-a-bout today. Again.

OMG. What’s that? Dude in a palm tree? Hanging by jamming climbing cleats into the thin spiky tree trunk? He’s going round the palm tree knocking down dead branches in a tree, practically arms reach from me. Now he’s dropping down. Uno, dos, tres bounces. He’s on the ground in like 1 second flat. Up the next tree he goes. Up in a split second. Uno, dos, tres. Right up that tree like Rehab did as a kitten. Split second and gone. Easy entrance and exit, ain’t it? Unreal. You seem so secluded and safe in a high rise. Until you don’t. Until you aren’t.

Like most traps, its much easier to get into than out. Thats usually a one-wayn tactic unless you succumb. Even then you’re stuck inside under someone’s thumb. Beck n call. Its only because good people stand by in silence to protect their own self-interest or to get a few crumbs for baby’s new shoes that those Up To No Good get away with it. All’s well and good until the silent bystander suddenly finds himself under that spotlight. Then he sees that now, he too stands alone against an army of thousands, most of whom already succumbed. One by one the numbers change. No one stands for him either. Soon no one left to fight the good fight for the Greater Good. Now none left standing. How many left standings does it take? Fifty? Thirty? Ten? One? Three?

Gotta do more than send prayers, nods and weapons to sitting ducks. Someone’s gotta take the bad guys out at the top. But then the danger is that the bad guys do that before the last few good guys can. Who decides? The constitution? Apparently, no one reads or follows the Ten Commandments anymore. Well very few at the top, it would seem. So, can we still please at least adhere to the Rule of Law, applied equally to everyone? Fully Transparent. Please.

End excerpt. If u wanna read the rest of “Vertigo of My Soul?” Available at Archway n Amazon SOON COME pending extraction from catch kill plagiarize n sell scheme. Yep. That’s y now sending this blog to the world as is!