HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER 112

HALLS WALLS, CHAPTER 112

Very soon, something major will go down, besides just my life as Mark Wayne Mohr coming to an end at the hands of the evil cruel demonic Milituforce. I will not talk about it in more detail right now, it would be too dangerous for me to do that. I just wish that some of these enemies would get themselves a life and only for their own good. In less than a month when I am dead and gone, what are they going to do without me to torture and torment for fucking crissake?

I tried to join the support group given to me by my case worker at my health HMO place, and they said an e-mail is sent to my e-mail account and it might be under spam or some folder not in the normal place. If that is so, then I am screwed, as I do not know how to work that fucking shit. I barely can work the very basic sending and receiving e-mails.

Maybe the home-dreams are a towel-seepage thing. I am thinking of going back home later this week, and I would rather die where I know people and have some connection to reality. Down here is for the mother fucking birds. This was nothing but a plot from my daughter and her crummy family from the nineties, to destroy me, and for what, I do not know! All I ever did in 1969 in Atlantic City was be at the wrong place at the wrong time. This is what the police at Medford, New Jersey in early 1986 told my mother over the telephone, and even though the topic may seem as two different things as many other things may also when not; Misses Lalassas, and Mister Inductotherm; believe me when I tell you that a lot of things are way more connected than average folks can ever perceive. That is not my problem because people do not want to expand their awareness. I am not going to put my evolved self into reverse just to make humanity happy. They can put themselves into fast forward and try to catch up, or they can choose to laugh and scoff at me and my ideas. That is entirely up to everyone. Nobody puts up half a billion dollars to get a college named after them. Even Cousin Donald will tell you that much, world. There is a lot more to all of this than Vicki Callio and her odoriferous word-jokes. People like Jason know the truth and admitted they made big bucks on my blogs out in Tinsel Town, where Listener Terry just laughed and called me a nut. So then, why the big bucks, Terry?

I have had the most horrible time in Florida imaginable. I only thought my life was bad back in New Jersey.

This entire world will burn in hell for what they have all done to me, President Obama. You may see it in your time and term, or it may be viewed by your pred. Who can know that, kind sir?

THE END.