it's kind of crazy how much my family has moved
Before we even gain momentum we lose our groove
We commonly hear gone so soon?
I'm just the dark side of the moon
Waiting for the millitary family gloom to cease

Screams permeate this infernal mist. I am surrounded by quaffs of smoke so thick that they could be volcanic spew. My lungs are scorched from the flames rising on either side of me, while lashes of fire are biting and stinging my painfully dry skin. Thick black billows of fiery smoke rush to my face, burning my skin and killing my sense of smell. Still I have no choice. If I want to survive I must struggle on. I drop to the floor to half crawl half shuffle under the smoke. Broken glass is strewn across the floor. Thank goodness I managed to get my shoes on before the bomb went off. My neighbor Bob ran away barefoot and as I followed his footstep I can barely see and but clearly feel the slippery smears of blood from his feet painting the floor.  To my right I hear the wails of a woman burning and to the left the shrieks of a baby crying. I turn left and pray that someone will come for the lady, or that she dies soon. The dark clouds of ash are so thick that I can’t keep my eyes open for more than a second because they keep watering up.  I stumble through the hall into a bedroom, following the now ragged sobs of the infant.  Almost as soon as I reach the child the screaming stops. I reach for him, her, it. It is limp. I cradle the soft body against my chest. Maybe just maybe if I can get out here I will have a chance. Please let me have a chance. Someone grabs me from behind. I struggle for a few second, panicking until he yells in my ear
“this way, follow me out.”
Within seconds I find myself passing under the archway and out into daylight. Behind me the building moans and shudders. Then for a few seconds I can hear nothing but a whoosh as the building collapses. I am struck by the moment, then by a shard of glass which pierces the back of my neck. The EMT is yelling at me. I don’t know why. A police officer comes over and tries to pry my hands from my chest. Then I remember the baby. I let go of the body and I see the horror on the face of the EMT. I try to sit down slowly, but I collapse while the world around me becomes a black fog.
I awake to terrible pain. My lungs ache but my hands and neck hurt worse. They are covered in bandages so I cannot see the real damage; which is good I don’t want to know. In the days that follow I have several visitors. Some call me a victim of a horrible tragedy. Others try to label me a hero.
The baby survived. We were two of three survivors out of a hundred or more. A hundred or more is what they tell me. That is supposed to be a conservative guess. They found the bodies of 72 adults, 36 children, and a dog. A dog, I was certain that having an animal in that building was against the rules. Whatever.
It has been three weeks. I’m free of the hospital and bandages, but not free of the dreams. Every time I sleep I see big and little bodies burnt to a crisp dragging themselves along the cemetery ground, following a funeral procession passes. As I walk by, one of the charred bodies reaches for my hand, begging for help in a dry and raspy voice. A smaller burnt figure struggles to reach me. I go to pick it up and the body crumbles to dust. More frightening forms rise from the ashen earth and now I am surrounded. Not just burnt bodies but bodies with bullet holes, bodies with lacerations. Each one asking for help each one deformed in its own way. The stench of rotted flesh makes me so nausea that I try to throw up my lunch instead burnt flesh and smoke fills my throat. The crowd of corpses continues piling on me faster and faster till I am drowning in a sea of corpses. Sometimes the dream ends there other times I am visited by more horror. One time it was a different nightmare. Corpses spewed from my voice into the daylight until they blotted out the sun. The earth grew barren.  Animals were devoured by the rotted corpses.  Plants shriveled falling to ground, and I stood alone among a sea of endless corpses the last living thing.
Another week or two later, I stop sleeping. Well, I stop sleeping with the exception of the occasional catnaps when my body just shuts down and even the caffeine and ephedrine can’t keep me awake. On the news I hear religious leaders and politicians railing against the terrorist. They say it is time to bring the fight to them.
For some reason I am invited to stand up and speak at one of those rallies so I do. I extol the virtues of our great nation. I cry for vengeance against those who murdered my family and friends. The leader of our local temple pats me on the shoulder and thanks me for my patriotism. I am honored by his words.
Now I have found some power, so I rise to the occasion more often. I speak of the evils of oppression and violence, while supporting other forms oppression and violence. I along with other orators yell and rant about the threats to our freedoms while my government takes away the freedom of others. We speak of sacrifices that must be made. However, when I stop and think about it the sacrifices being made are not by everyone. The poor families send their children of to fight for our safety while the rich and powerful remain safe. Oh well, it must be done.
A year passes. I watch my government target people of a certain race. They torture them and hide them in foreign prison. There are rumors of beatings and mutilations. I ignore them. Even if it is true it is necessary in the name of freedom. Our enemies would not show any kind of mercy. Then they come for another group of people. I understand this is what must be done. Therefore, I do not intercede on their behalf. Although others do start to stand up. They resist. We real patriots know the truth though. These people are traitors. In a time of crisis one cannot question the government. I watch these traitors get shunned and brutalized by their neighbors. They are ostracized for their beliefs. Good. In the end they too are taken away.
The government comes for another group of people and another and another. Till, now I am one of the few left. I start to question the state of the nation. Now I open my mouth, and speak out against the fascism. But now is too late because it is my turn to feel the wrath of a military state.
They come for me with angry dogs and rage in their heart. They come for me with intention to beat me down like an animal. They come for me with grim intentions and all I can think is I wished I had spoken up sooner.

a warm sunny day filled with life seems not normal> my paranoya grew heavyer.
i heard my millitary sccanner  go off. i listen what they said
they were going to exterminat our little society town. i grab my girlfriend we both ran to tell eny one who could take this threat well. i knew the timing of when the bombs would drop. i knew every one vary well but it will all be lost. it was 2:00 am. the bombs were going to drop right be for night fall to get every thing ready. night was scares for me and her to prepar for the worst. we gave people another warning with the air rade syron blaring. we both bunkkered down varry vary deep to be untouched by the misles blow
on a saturday evning i started to gather family pets and any one els.

i started to set the clock for the final note. at 2:00 in the afternoon all our equipment and beds and supilze were accounted.

5:00 we had the final moments to hold out. the small timer reached 10/ 9/ 8/ 7/ 6/ 5/ 4/ 3/ 2/ 1 we held echother close.


the time ran out and all we heard was a vary loud ringing sound. we held out and survived. but the rest of society was wiped out. i new my parinoid side had came right on time. only my entire family pets and my girlfriends started venchering out.

all we saw was a ****** horor  show peoples bodyes vaperized all shops were gone

we survied the unknown from the trsty side of peranoya that was right.

we have to find what has happened we found out this was a plane that was only aimed at us since this small society had people who was a hush hush dont tell


every one is gone all gone.

Ever step I take will set in motion innovative ideas. It will be easy to dissapear from what scares me the most. What words would you even considering saying when every door room or fallen millitary bunker.  No threat only walking into a wear house discovering pools of blood with hacked up dead some decapitated so luster choking on there blood.
Why walk when you could run the miles to stop the master of desciz.


Nothing seems to be a possible when you you use urban mind as a deadly weapon.

We aren't machines we are human not a Droid.


No we dont weapons we just have to create havik. No blood she'd only mental ideas that will pull the plug of the demons eyes

Humans aren't machines we don't have attachable weapons. What kind sick coperations turn people into deadly shape shooters.

No one knows what we really are.

Every day is different not the same.
We aren't made to **** our own.
We only **** to provide food for our young so they can grow and send another wave of generations.

Humans aren't made to ****.

But only one thing that can unleash ****** he'll is when we see one person take or kills someone.

We only **** to take the target that you saw KI'll.



Me
I'm not a Droid
I'm not a machine
I'm not a cold blooded slasher
I'm not aggressive to get payback
I can only set in motion a wave of thoughts that will stop and freeze the ****** battle field.


I'm not a Millitary machin.

But I am a 007 agent  with tricks with a mind that is a steel trap.

I'm not a pure aggressive killer.

I am my own 007 that has a mind of ideas that can change society from the cold industrial bleAK fear.

I am my own supper soldier. Not a aggressive scared cornered animal.

Humans only **** when some one kills a  person who is your friend.

We have our road we set in motion.

We set innovative ideas making the world functional.


We could be brained washed into a cold blooded weapon. Or we could set in motion  wave that will end all the ****** pure agression death that blood covers our hands

i never knew what the meaning of ill see u some day again. but we are all really colse friends. we joked around grew up to gather . we both hung out even ditched class. one day u left a note on my dash board. saying they picked u to join the army. we wrote every day when we can. i  read his last note to me i wrote back. its been 4 years you have been gone. the last vary last letter came saying he loved me and ill be home for christmass but you never showed on the week your get to come home.  being with my gf in our apartment th bell rang right on christmass. 2 millitary dressed in all black holding his helmet his boots his flag. i droped to the floor cant breath!

but i know the meaning that is he is gone. all i got is his flag and the friend who raised me when i ran away. holding his gear with my body turning ghost white. broken to the point where all you do is now is change your identy and start a new life with out tears he is gone im alone in this world that is scary and horrifying .

The Millitary road was long and narrow
Hugging the contours of the cliff face
As braiding on a dress,
He teased me
Dancing the children in a line
Along the slim path
Edging  the fallen away grassland.
Dotted every hundred yards or so
Wire cages
Announced memorial sites
For the fallen.
The waves echoed a deathly hush
Crushing against broken boulders
A hundred yards below;
Eventually the path terminated
Running into turf,
The children took up my hands
Again
And the day proceeded as normal.

Love Mary

For all those who like danger.

Dear America, I watch your movies
Not really yours,but ones your citizens make
I see so much, through the glasses they give us
The potential to grow there,the opportunities
The success others get there,the prosperity
The freedom you give people,to say just anything
The high standards that is the way of life
The wonderful life that's not so wonderful
And of course the vices,the pronounced vices

I want to visit America, to see the vices
I want to see the epidemics
The opioids that plague low income neighbourhoods
The teenage pregnancies,the many single moms
The runaway baby daddies owing child support
The anti vax campaigns causing more deaths
The racism,the police brutality that never ends
The gun violence,the schools that were shot at
The corruption that impedes crime reduction
Maybe see the jails that look so nice in movies

I want to visit America,to see the life
The hard work,the 80 hour weeks
The hard life,the two and three job workers
The posh life,the rich and famous entrepreneurs
The wanna be life,the glamourous famous celebs
The fake life,the not so famous influencers
The tough life,the expensive parenting options
The long school life,the lifetime student loan debt

I want to visit America,experience the government
The tough,manifesto or is party driven elections
The many legislative houses with all the power
The complicated levels of government
The many types and divisions of police
The thousands of investigative bodies
The powerful uniformed and  ununiformed forces
The well trained millitary and intelligence agencies
With others that don't work inside the country

I want to visit America,to see the law
To experience the precious 1787 constitution
To see the thousands of Acts of parliament
To see the high,or is it low,taxation rate
To see the ease,or is it difficulty,in doing business
To see the rights that y'all keep talking about
Maybe even get to say 'I know my rights' too
See the liberal,or is it conservative, court system
The just jury system, the courtroom theatrics
Maybe even get to sit and watch

I want to visit America, see the healthcare system
The huge well equiped hospitals,
The well oiled health insurance machine
See the doctors who spent a decade to be an MD
The many specialist professionals in healthcare
Maybe even get what y'all call a physical
The exuberant cost of getting treated
Maybe understand Medicare and Medicaid
The strong powers of the medical boards
Maybe even see the need for malpractice insurance

I want to visit America,see American products
Feel the prestige y'all place on labels
The one word labels that say it all
The extensive creative marketing culture
The brands  that don't need an explanation
Target. Mcdonalds. Macy's. Prada. Walmart.
The pricing that's always exclusive of tax

I want to feel American life
The good looking, desirable social amenities
The importance of zip codes and school districts
The restaurant,swipe right, smart devices culture
The borrowing, property ownership loan culture
The credit card,cashless freeing bill payment culture
The creditworthiness of good credit
The judgements on criminal record holders

I want to experience
The feeling your actors exude so well
Someday. Maybe.