Hanging with the Bear

I create around the irate. It is never bait, but it has been of late. Sasha is a man NOT from Afghanistan. He is Russia Russia Russia. I finally spoke to this enigmatic one. He sips coffee in my vicinity every day, and stays stable in every way. No stalking from this mo fo. He is brilliant in literature and art. His Siberian existance came from the start. Magadan is in his view. Can you catch him Caribou? It all rotates around WWII when Russia felt an American in the Nazi ranks. They had no idea that it was a military machine with a tank ability. General George Mayer is my bio father and believed grandfather. Joseph Stalin was my great grandfather. There was thus a blood link in me between royal military of Russia and the Kaiser of Germany. It is not convoluted, it is poetic and free. I find myself joyful as he does leave. I work to bring Russia into my days and nights. I repeat my business and take out the idiosyncrasies that bluster and form doubt. Go against me and the Russian Mob WILL have a problem today. You all will probably have to pay Sasha $1000 a week for protection from the police. If the jew problem there continues, I will fly away and find another way to be close to my roots. Diplomacy is not your forte. Well it is his, and Russia in general. I am nonviolent and kind. They now see the chalice here that you sell there. Mighty you have believed, but what is an eagle next to a bear, DEAD. I never betray and Russia likes me that way. I do speak in code, effortlessly, and hide even my thoughts in vicnity. I am the reality, and the pain, shame, and fear I deal with daily, is here for infinity. Maybe I just play a Bellruse on arrogant party threats.