Friday, October 24, 2014

ICPISTMCMM, CHAPTER 00067

THIS BLOG WILL DISCONTINUE PERMANENTLY ON SATURDAY, 26 OCTOBER, 2014, UNLESS MY READERSHIP PICKS UP OR AT LEAST STOPS DWINDLING. I AM NOT HERE JUST FOR ONE MISERABLE UNMENTIONABLE ROTTEN SOUL FROM HELL WHO WIPED OUT MY LIFE.









MY STORY TELLS ITSELF; so suppress it that you want to, lovely world. It is truth, absolute truth.



And with or without all of the Shakespearean players on the great stage of life, there still is an audience out there 'somewhere'. Morianity is seeking the truths about detailed questions pertaining to just this. You don't perform a great concert or play, to an imaginary crowd that is only there in your fantasies. That's just common sense to anyone's mind unless they are bomb-drunken out to la-la land, or completely brain damaged to begin with. And I said none of this. It was all William Shakespeare's great ideas and philosophies. I take zero credit for any of that, do not attempt to ever give me any, please.

















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YES MY FRIENDS, JEWELLY WHITE'S GOT IT GOING ON, AND ART IS QUITE MAGICAL” WE CANNOT HIDE FROM OUR SELVES.



The older people living now, close to my age, for the most part, all know the famous Shakespeare quote that all the world is a stage, and the people merely actors (players). He is smart enough to live and die, without ever thinking of tackling the details about, well, fine, cool, whatever; but who are those who watch this great play and where do they come from, and also, why? Why is this all happening, you really do not get a bigger question than that, not when asked in its fullest possible spectrum of analysis. Oh no, he was way too smart to even think of doing something like that, as this task has been assigned to a poor dude who lives centuries ahead of him. This would be me. How do I know this task has fallen on me you might just ask me, and would be within your rights to totally do so? Well, how does one know they are male or female, black or white, rich or poor, fat or thin, tall or short, in agony or feeling healthy as any athlete? The answer is no rocket science. At any given second, not that people cannot make changes as collections of these time units add up, but at any given present second, you just know. Well, I just know that this task has fallen on me. I do not want it, and I have most definitely attempted escaping it. But I tried doing a similar thing a few thousand years ago, and that didn't go well. People get bitten by sharks a lot these days, well, don't feel bad, I tried running away from another task given to me a loing time ago, and was not bitten, but swallowed up whole, by a very great fish, the greatest fish in the whole dam ocean, oh great 1986 Copyright Office Examiners.



When I was a boy growing up, I had a few unexplainable wild events happen to me, including totally knowing what was going to happen before it did. I knew for instance when a song would be played on the radio, down to an exact minute, I knew I was in serious danger of life and limb without any normal way of recognizing this danger, being a large and vicious German Shepard dog on a neighboring property had broken loose off of a chain and was about to attack me, and I knew that when I was first on Tennessee Avenue in Atlantic City, New Jersey, that the rest of my entire life was going to be major altered, as a result of this. I could name numerous things from age 5 through the end of my teens. This slowed down in my adult life, except for as period when I moved into the Robin Hill apartments for the first time, on may 1, 1980, at unit #1802. There was the lovely Scylla goddess singing LOIS FOCA to me, there was the great Lottery-Cat GAGA and the numerology and lottery experience, both in 1980 along with my move to that place; and there was a voice inside my head forcing me to speak out loud, somewhere in November of 1982, “Hay Mark, you just wait for the fourth of next June to roll around” It did, and I began suddenly choking to death, and have been ever since this exactly predicted date. Things again quieted down after this until I had a major dream where the stock market had gone way u to a high it never saw in the times of that dream, 4996 if I remember this accurately. At the time of the dream, it was trading less than half of that basis point amount. Then things that were involved with huge stuff also came into all of this. I saw the Challenger that blew up off the NASA pad in 1985, happen in my mind, in early 1984. This powerful dream took place at 506 Robin Hill, my middle of three stays at this apartment system. Less than two years later, it blew up just as it had in the dream. After this and as the nineties came in, I began to remember a strange girl from my boyhood, Sarah. As time passed I had written a song for her, not remembering that she was the girl from 1980 singing LOIS FOCA to me in another dream. Still, after the song came a time of more strange dreams about this girl and so many things connected to her, only not simply, as a complexity was beginning to form. The future being a fulfilling of a dream many times, was not shown to me clearly, and it might be months or years before I would see that the dream indeed was again, showing me exact future stuff. Then again, things grew quiet in all of this as the last century began winding down, and didn't pick back up until the early middle era of the year 2008. Then for two years, a barrage of these wild things would again all happen. For whatever the reason, I came to fully realize that there was, as Mister Shakespeare said all along; some powerful large group, all sitting around watching me in all of this, and getting their jollies or getting off or whatever, in so doing. When I had enough time to sit around analyzing and putting enough broken up puzzle pieces all together, I then realized, it was this girl from 1980, all along, that somehow as totally behind this audience, or this reality game show of some outlandish cosmic proportions. I don't care any more who stole ideas or songs or my life in its entirety, and made avout a trillion dollars by now, profiting on my pains and aches of pure agony. If they can all liive with themselves and sleek OK at night, fine, so be it. All I care about is obeying this awesome GODDESS sho the world knows as numerous names depending on their religion or culture, it is all the same cosmic owner no matter who thinks what or calls it whatever. Sometimes in my desperate attempt to put this life puzzle together and make some sense out of my hellish existence, I may have been over jealous and forced some pieces, if so, I can only offer up a very powerful heart felt warm apology, but see things from my window panes for a second, people, please' I am in need of figuring out all of this stuff around me for more than half of a century, and I am grasping at lots of straws, as well as strong rocks. Let me go back to 2008. I did not do anything other than begin to remember stuff that happened to me while visiting distant family relations in New York as a teenager. Then as things progressed, stuff that was being VSG Syndrome repressed here and there, would force themselves to me through dreams, such as one large example, on the fifth of October that year, shortly after moving in with this family, and being so miserable, I broke into tears with Ann on several occasions and wanted my freedom back and to get out and away from these people from hell.




If I am able to make one point, it's this. Maybe it won't be made, but I have the right to at least try and do so. Sure I will fight back if pushed and hurt and robbed and raped and injured and on and on. But I have no real idea, in fact in all honesty, I am clueless, what started all of my life going so horribly wrong. But I know it did, and that I am not imagining a thing. I hold no innocent person to blame, but for those who have intentionally ruined my entire life in monstrous ways, I would not be human, not to want to get revenge on them, by exposing their wicked evil deeds done to me over an entire lifetime, and yes, to make them pay me back where it hurts, for my decades of anguish and torment beyond the fires of hell itself. The only thing my enemies understand is mpney and power, so just to punish them, I would most definitely sue all those that I could prove guilty of this inhuman crime against me, for 60% of their net worth totals. It is basically 50 deep pocket individual and or group entities, you know, corporations and stuff like this would qualify, and individuals are there as well, I assure you. I would sue for Jury Award, but would remind any jury, of tens of thousands of horrible things done to me without cause and illegally over decades of time. If this does not qualify for making them pay me where it hurts them most, their stinking wallets; what does? I have recently estimated this total enemy net worth if combined all together, to be just over two trillion dollars, and I would not even negotiate with bidders that would not agree to hand over sixty percent of that amount. I have no desire to take one cent from anyone who has not hurt me and therefore has no reason to pay me one red cent. I only want what is owed to me. What has been done to me is like taking every single Jew in the holocaust, all put together, and making me suffer this equivalent of pain and excruciating agony for 30-50 years of my now 60 year life as the current me who I am in body, Mark Wayne mohr. I really am not a bad guy at all, and wish everyone well as hell. When others are happy and prospering, it makes it less likely that they will drive aggressively on the roads to up set me, or to be mean if they are working in a store where I need to go on an errand, or just hate me because I am fat and short an d old and ugly as hell. I have recently gone through a terrible attack, and am very sorry that I have used some really harsh raunchy inexcusable language in my blogs. My mom raised up a gentlemen, only you'd never know it from my intense profane word choices on so many blogs. Still, notice how my attacks come and go, lessen and heighten, through two sources that are easy to pick up and discern. One is how many blogs I rite monthly, shown clearly by blogger dot com on the right margin of th eblog, and yes, the second thing is when my language becomes atrocious and despicable by anyone's standards. All I can do is say I am sorry, and that you could not even start to fathom just how much hell I have been put through since late in 2011 after I was basically being set up for another major ISOLATION-ASSAULT, as I call it. Shortly after this, things got worse and worse and worse, and then I lost my local recording studio, and my friends all disowned me, and Jessica Grant fired me from Harvest, and I literally am all alone in the world, and not a soul could care in the least. How would you feel? What kind of a blog would you be writing, on top of being wronged and robbed and raped and hurt tens of thousands of times over a three decade plus time period? Do you honestly think that you could handle this pile of outlandish monster hell and then write blogs filled with happy speech and flowers and love for all, I mean really folks, how about cutting me a little break here with that one, OK?

MORIANITY FOR MILLENNIUM-3

CHAPTER 00067, ICPISTMCMM









SSSSSSSOOOOOOO Arthur Crane; let me crash off to sleep now. Keep the faith and the fight, old pal from TCE!






OCTOBER 24, 2014,
FRIDAY MORNING AT 2:21,
HERE IN FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA,
CURRENT TEMPERATURE, 70 DEGREES FNHT.
HUMIDITY IS 76%, WIND CHILL IS 69.








Folks, I said it before, and I will be saying it more, I promise, because it is so powerful and true, The world is an amazing place.






















































When I drove down to Florida in the middle of December, back in 2009, and got near at all, on I-95, to the NASA-headquarters; the air harassment grew all around me, as if I was the son of Bin Laden. What did I ever do to any of these government and military people; my great old pal, PRINCE CHEMTRAILS?





This was a ghostly quiet day, yesterday, Thursday, breaking off a major five day (Saturday-Wednesday) unbelievable terrible death siege on me. Thank you, whoever helped me to get a day of peace. I love you with all of my heart. One day of peace once in a while, is that really too much of a request. One day here and there without being bombarded and assaulted by horrendous and horrific attacks, is that really such a gargantuan freaking request, ladies and gentlemen?










Hello, alive and dreaming here, I am Mark Wayne Mohr. But I truly am ZERANNISS ARTHUR YANCY JONES, from Dogtown, and then Sahasra Dal Kanwal; thanks to my awesome great teen-queen, SSJK.











MY BLOGS: PLEASE ARCHIVE THEM.







FORT PIERCE, FLORIDA, UNITED STATES.
© MARK WAYNE MOHR BLOGS 2006-2014.








GODDESS DIANA, MY LOVELY LIGHTNING.
I LOVE YOU SO VERY BAD, DIANA, ELECTROCUTE ME!
I NEED YOU IN MY BED, BEAUTIFUL BABY BLOND (BB)!


I am going to take a REAL BIG BITE out of many things, as 2014 begins drawing to a close. I PROMISE!












MY LOVELY CHRISTMAS MOON JUST VANISHED AWAY, NOW THE SKIES OVER THE MAGICAL CHARTER SCHOOL BY NIGHT ARE DARK AND MOONLESS. OH WELL, MY MOON LOVES ME, AND I KNOW THIS, AND THIS IS WHAT KEEPS ME FREAKING GOING, KIND PEOPLE!





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Saturday, May 31, 2008

short blog number 4

NEVER MIND ABOUT THIS NCC-CLOUD TRICK, PEOPLE, THIS, JUST LIKE HEAVEN, TO QUOTE MORTALS; CAN WAIT.
I must remember that she is the great queen, and maybe in the world of Pedigree Dog-food, us DOGS RULE, but, and she called me Yancy, and said and I quote, “Yancy, remember that I am the great Sarah-Stacey here in this form now, and I RULE, U GOT THAT”? I solemnly just looked down and submissively said, “I know U do my great all powerful lovely mighty queen”. She took my hand and told me that she did not have to tell me about the 2 letters back 11 years ago, and help me construct my idea foundations that R literally responsible 4 where I am today in figuring out so much incredible stuff.


GO WASH YOUR HANDS.
GO WASH YOUR HANDS.
GO WASH YOUR HANDS.
GO WASH YOUR HANDS.
GO WASH YOUR HANDS.


OK WASHCLOTH PEEPS, I WILL!







OH PLEASE DON'T CUNT OUT OR CHEMTRAIL OUT MY LUNGS 1970-2014. LC RIKER DID NOT LIKE HIS ARM BEING SEVERED AND REATTACHED SURGICALLY, EITHER, HUH MISTER BLUCRANRODDENBERRY? BUT ONLY THE ANDROID ROCKCOULD SAY IT WITH THAT INTENSE FEELING, ''THAT IS THE EQUATION''. WAS THIS ALSO SOMETHING I WOULD PICK UP ON WHEN THE TIME WAS RIGHT FOR ME TO DO SO, OH COSMOS?







MORE SECRETS TO THIS WORLD LAY SILENTLY IN THE CREATION OF THE GREAT STAR TREK SHOW, THAN ANY OF YOU HAVE THE SMALLEST CLUE ABOUT. IF MY ANGEL, LUCY, HAD NOT MADE SURE THIS WOULD ALL COME TO PASS, I AM UNABLE TO EVEN CONTEMPLATE HOW MY LIFE WOULD BE MONSTROUSLY WORSE RIGHT NOW, THAN IT IS, WHICH APPEARS TO SOUND TOTALLY FREAKING UNFATHOMABLE!



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Talk about the quintessential HYPER SPACE EQUATION, or effects in transdimensional space interactions, hay Margie Leo from 1985, CUT ME A BREAK, SWEETIE, YO YO YO YO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




Back in 1977, people were convinced that my mom tried to commit suicide, after being dumped by her lover-boss and a failed office romance. She wrote a story about it and tried to get it published in the Readers Digest Magazine. She was rejected, but I thought it was a darn good article, it told a very sad story, and shot straight from the shoulder, no hip quickies that miss or maim. Still, there is no accounting for taste. I wouldn't give you a dime for the entire Entertainment bizz.



























HI THERE PRETTY CHRISTMAS MOON, AND WHERE IS
YOUR FRIEND THE RED ORANGY MOON TONIGHT, AS YOU HAVE ECLIPSED IT SOMEHOW





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*******SUICIDE – OR WAS IT?*******



BY Grace Mason, in her original words, in the year of our Lord, AD 1977.



Upon recovering from what appeared to be a suicide attempt, my thoughts centered around others who did not survive ''apparent suicide''. There must be numerous cases where the person did not intentionally plan to take his or her life but never lived to affirm it.



The furtherest thing from my mind that night was suicide. Yet I had taken sixty tranquilizer pills, which would certainly indicate I had tried to commit suicide. Other circumstantial evidence would further convince anyone as I had hidden the prescription bottle in a boot in my closet before passing out. There also would appear to be logical reasons for the overdose I'd taken. But, I had no idea of suicide when I downed those tranquilizers. I merely wanted to forget what had just happened.



I am convinced now that some of us can reach the limit of what we can take and then all that is necessary is an additional sudden shock to catch us off guard and set off the alarm – an alarm that causes one to react irrationally momentarily. If alone, it certainly can cause disastrous effects....And that is just what happened to me.



I believe my happy well-balanced childhood prepared and sustained me in the difficult years that were to lie ahead.



I was twenty-six years old when I fell in love and married, fully ready not only to accept the joys but also the trials, tribulations and sorrows through the years.



For the first ten years of married life there were just two of us. People often remarked that we must be the happiest couple living – and we were. We were very much in love....But there was one serious problem. My husband throughout our eighteen years of married life had difficulty in maintaining employment and the problem was made manifold in the last eight years of our marriage because of the additional responsibility of raising our son. Unable to support us at the end, and finally, after everything we owned had to be sold at auction no house to live in, or car to drive, food and clothes at a real premium ….he walked out and we separated. I am happy that my son, who was eight years old at the time, has grown into a fine young man, has an excellent job and lives in his own apartment.



I worked throughout most of my married life in various businesses and during the past fourteen years have continuously worked as a secretary. It wasn't easy going backward to live in a one-room furnished apartment, but I managed to make a comeback for my son and me after the breakup of my marriage. After a few years of being on my own I procured a divorce so that I could forget the past and make a fresh start.



A year ago a man in the company where I worked asked me to go out to dinner with him. It wasn't long before we knew we were in love. He asked me to marry him but there were complications. Before ever going out with him he had expressed to me his intention of divorcing his wife. I had every good reason to believe him. I was aware that he had many unsolvable problems with his wife and there seemed to be no hope for their reconciliation. They lived apart in different cities and rarely saw each other. (I have a very strong contention that people should remain married if at all possible and I could not bear to be responsible for a divorce.) 'Her afterthought'



We had a year of beautiful times together, awaiting his final decree so we could be married. We talked and planned our future together. The door was opened for a lovely new way of life.



None of this was a simple matter. Along with the trauma of his getting a divorce, it was further complicated by the fact that this man happened to be ''my boss''. We both had to be very discreet. Neither of us was going into this foolheartedly and neither of us could afford to jeopardize our job. Still another complication arose when he was asked to work in a new office location – which was not accessible without a car. I had never had the means to buy a car, but, nonetheless, he asked me to work for him and said he would make sure transportation would be provided each day....It was – and he was the one who constantly provided it. We shared many happy hours both during and after business. Our future together was becoming more of a reality every day.



Later we were to have a number of misunderstandings and there was an instance where he told me he was going back to his wife. I was shocked. His divorce was already in process. I decided to go off somewhere for a week to collect myself and once again reshape my life. After five days I received a phone call from him asking me to please give him another chance, that he loved me, and would make it up to me. I gave him that chance. The divorce was pushed once again. He began to tell his close friends in business that we were going to be married. We not only picked up where we left off, we shared a closer than ever relationship. The bond between us seemed unbreakable. But it wasn't to be...His wife came on to see him – and again he told me he decided to ''try to make a go of it''. Upset as I was, I steeled myself to go to work with him the next few days. He appeared completely miserable and said he just couldn't go back to her after all. He told her they must complete the divorce. He said he could not wait for me to meet his daughters now. Foolishly, I picked up where we left off and my love still was undying for him. After many months, we had received word from both his and her attorneys that they were ready to take action for finalizing the divorce. That weekend we were especially happy and we had a delightful lunch at a charming spot in the country.



The night before I had prepared a home-cooked dinner for him. He smilingly remarked what a happy life we would have together if I just continued cooking like that.



To this day I shall never know what happened. Suddenly his wife appeared again the early part of the following week. He told me he was going to attempt reconciliation after all and that it was over for us. This was not the final or second real shock yet. I had survived the breakup the first two times and now I must overcome it again. Once more, overwhelmed with chagrin, I visited my cousin for just the weekend this time. It was such a lovely home, sprawling by the beach overlooking a bay. Again I collected myself to face the future. My only request of him was that somehow he continue to provide transportation to work. I realize now that what I should have said was – ''please give me a little time to find another means to commute even if I have to move''. But, at times like this, he was very uncommunicative. He had not even given a reason, nor would he, for this very sudden and shocking change. Upon returning from my trip, I asked my doctor for a prescription for my nerves, and told him why. On the way home from work I picked up the pills at the store.



Next morning I met him outside my apartment building ready for work as usual. I managed to get through the day. But, that night there were many buzzes and knocks on my door. I did not respond as I had gone to bed early. When the knocks and buzzes pounded in my ears, I could not go to sleep. It left me little alternative but to answer the door. I did. There stood both man and wife staring at me. The rest is somewhat vague, but they did come in. I do not recall whether or not I invited them.



Not one word did he utter during their brief visit, but his wife talked continuously. She reprimanded me for having gone out with him, even though he had not been home more than three times in the past two years and during which time their divorce was in process. I was at a loss for words. It was too much to bear.



Then came the full impact – the second blow which I was not yet prepared to handle. As he sat there with nothing at all to say, she pointed her finger at me and said harshly – ''My husband is never to take you to work again''.



Sometime during all this, he had quickly walked out of my apartment. I do not recall at just what point, or why. Everything became hazy.



I do not remember her walking out after that last remark or if anything further was said. I barely recall anything clearly from then on. Before they had arrived, I had set the alarm clock for morning, was ready to sip a cup of decaf coffee along with two tranquilizers to help me fall asleep.



The moment she left I remember a sudden feeling of helplessness overcoming me and an intense fear of losing my job. I am 57 years old. I had always tried to be logical and practical but this time for the first time I had no control over the situation....The decisions were being made for me. I went to the sink, took the bottle of pills up to my mouth, threw back my head until my mouth was full, and with a glass of water swallowed the pills. Being a very thin little pill it was easy to do.



Never before had I done anything impulsively, and to this day it is hard to believe. I was unaware how many I was taking at that time. In fact, not one thought was in my head except I just knew I wanted to forget for a while. Certainly I was not thinking of taking my life ; that I DO KNOW.



My mind seemed to be working rapidly. After taking the pills, my thought was – I must let someone at work know I will not be in the office the next day. I would have to ask someone to call first thing in the morning. I didn't want to do the calling myself until I could think things through, but I was obligated to let my company know. You see, I was not secretary solely for him but for another executive as well. But, before going out my door my head already in a whirl, in a flash I thought I'd better hide the pill bottle just in case something should really happen to me and that might mean my son would lose my insurance. Now, had I been rational, I would have realized any such condition could be diagnosed with or without the pill bottle, especially if an autopsy were made. But I didn't give the matter much thought….I certainly didn't think anything would really happen to me, AND by this time I probably wasn't too coherent.



I threw the bottle in a boot in the back of a closet. Then, using the fire exit, went up the back stairs to the apartment manager's wife on the floor above me.



I know she would be glad to phone my other boss to let him know I would not be at work that day. I wasn't sure what the man I'd been going to marry might now say to those at the office so I prepared to give my own reasons. But I wasn't ready to handle or discuss it if it became necessary...SO having someone also call (just to let them know I was trying to work out a solution to my transportation problem) seemed sufficient to me.



I was unaware that the pills were taking effect. I reached the apartment manager's door and knocked. When his wife came to the door, I gave her instructions for calling the Office. She later told me I was uncoordinated at the time. I hadn't mentioned to her that I'd taken any pills. It didn't even enter my head; it seemed so unnecessary and unimportant. We had become friends in the last few months and I had told her earlier about my previous break ups with him.



After giving her my Company phone number, I turned, started down the fire escape steps and completely blanked out. Miraculously, I did not even hurt myself when I fell. I later found out that I was picked up by a tenant who called for help. I understand I talked a little before arriving by ambulance at the local hospital, but I have no recollection of anything until a few days later. I was unconscious during that period.



So, you see, the second real shock, the shock of my job being in jeopardy after so many years of desperately trying to succeed in making a comeback from a broken marriage , had triggered the pill incident . The Company had been a major part of my life off and on for over twenty years. It was a frightening experience to have it suddenly taken away from me through no fault of my own, and the other blow still too fresh in my mind. I was just not prepared to meet it.



Years ago I had known a man personally who had been through a similar situation, and, after my experience, it brought the thought to me…. TWO BIG SHOCKS, ONE AFTER THE OTHER, can set off a quick and hasty reaction.



This man had just lost his young wife to a terminal disease after a few years of fighting a losing battle. (Leukemia-Hodgkin) Then, less than six months later, his little son died after two operations to try to save him. Shortly after that he took an overdose of tranquilizers. He was with a company that manufactured and distributed these pills to hospitals and drugstores at the time it happened to him, so they were very handy. Before he passed out he had called a friend , who immediately took him to a hospital to have his stomach pumped. Now, that was years ago but I remember him telling me that he had no intention of suicide. It was only after he took them that he realized the seriousness of what he had done.



Believe me, for those of us who survive, I do not believe it could ever occur again. You now know positively what can happen – and you know you could not repeat it.



I am convinced that there are many other people, like myself, who have taken an overdose of pills without realizing the consequences and with no idea of taking their lives.



Unlike people who plan their suicide, fully intending to end their lives, the people like myself are are hit TOO FAST, TOO HARD, and TOO SOON with TOO MANY SHOCKS, and momentarily at least, are completely unaware they are taking a lethal dose of pills. There are many cases, of course, where a person is prone to attempt suicide and may have a history of psychological problems. There are others, who analytically plan and succeed in suicide, leaving a note or papers indicating life has become too burdensome for one reason or another.



Easy access to tranquilizers or sleeping pills can be dangerous. Yet, for me, I know that under no circumstances could it ever happen again. It shocks you into cold reality. Life for me may not be very important but my religion is..and it forbids any such finality. We are all educated enough to know an overdose can KILL, but at a time of shock your mind can become blurred. Knowing the consequences and being sharply aware that if you lose your head you actually can lose your life, no doubt will keep those who have tried it from ever repeating it.



I am now back working with the same Company but at a more convenient location, and the Company has been very good to me. I understand since my return that he became terminally ill shortly after our separation, left the Company to recuperate, but did pass on a few months later. As for me I have no intention of ever dating again, and will try to do my best to live a more spiritual life.



I have written this article hoping my experience may save others who at a time of overwhelming but temporary desperation, might otherwise risk their lives.



...........

(The one happy note to the above is – he told his Pastor that I had made him see the Light and the Pastor told me he died a Christian).





THE 'HE' IS NONE OTHER THAN former boss of my mother at the then Lavino Shipping Company, now the Inchcape Shipping Services, in Philadelphia Pennsylvania, with offices all over the world, from Mobile, Alabama, to jolly old England. His name was Edwin R. Potter, and he was from Chicago, Illinois. I am not as forgiving as my wonderful 'Christian' mother. Some might argue he converted so he could avoid me kicking the crap out of him in eternity, as I am heading straight for mother fucking HELL. Not a bad argument, even for morons, Chicagoan's, or Dogtownites of any and all breeds and minnina-kalpa sentences. But so much more exists in my mom's tale of tears and pathetic woes, from 1976. Oh lord fucking christ almighty, if anyone had eyes to see and ears to hear. If my mom's fucking relationship had been Gozzwald cosmically permitted to work out, by the WOMO-MILI-2-FORCE; can you even start to fathom the fun and cool games LOST TO THE GODS FOREVER? Jesus-God Terry Pennock; No Robin Hill, no ever finding out about lost loves or daughters, no Atco chocking, no lightning and me meeting up in a human lifetime, no lab technicians of power and mystery, and I could literally type on for a fucking ass century and not scratch the surface of it all. ''THEY HAD NO CHOICE'', biting neck-shave Count Marcucci Barnabas Lambrigger Levy Athan, take away my mom being by herself and us deciding to team up since neither of us ever had life skills to make much money individually, so by joining forces, we could live in some really nice places, and I was destined to have the wildest mother fucking ride in hyperspace imaginable, at least in my humble opinion.













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Jupiter, Florida, welcomes you to Morianity; Courtesy of CBS Channel 12-Television.











































THIS PARTICULAR WRITING TERMINATES NOW:














1 comment:

  1. This world died somewhere quite a long while ago. I know you don't believe this, and you would be wrong. Compassion, human feelings, all gone, replaced AS PREDICTED by cold computers and icy technology, the absolute death of the human heart, forever, s we evolve into the gods only know what. As sorry as I could ever be for me; I am way sorrier for all of you uncaring assholes out here. What has happened in my family and to me, that was predicted by me in a 1980 song from the realms of dreams; called, "Love Is For Carpenters", has all come perfectly and totally 100% into fruition, I believe the song lyric still sitting in the United States Copyright Office from 1981, can be quoted, "We all have a number, none have a name, and all that we do have, is each other to blame".

    MARK WAYNE MOUNTAINPEN MOHR

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