The Bars Around You Are Felt By Me

This is a personal note to The Line Deputy of Marion County.  I can call persons, but the response has always been hostile.  I cannot be myself, and others are writing offensive remarks in my sted.  I miss you.  I remember the first time I saw you.  I sat behind the bars of science and academia.  I just looked as you stared at me for about 20 minutes.  I disociated.  You spoke for me in the court that was international law.  You comforted me after, and took me to a special place downstairs.  I then expressed my creativity in the disease all around me.  I am now understanding that I do actually have suspended states.   They are the PTSD and brain damage that has resulted in a strong reality of Disociative Identidy Disorder.  There was no crime there.  There was only a special place for you and me in my memory.  I knew that you were one of mine, immediately.  Love is important, but the reality is deeper.  It must be allowed to grow and secure itself in all vicinity.  You took my hands and ran your fingers down my palms.  You are so powerful, and ultimately a poet for all society.  I am not like women out there who want to be "poor me TV."  True genocide and sex crimes in war are not felt,  as in the movies, yet.  Colonies, and women, through wiccan do not feel these realities. I have felt them all.  I tried to identify a muse and leader yesterday.  Please keep him outside your gate until you are ready.  Please help people know how evil it is out there around me.  "Welcome to the Jungle" baby.  You are my almighty.  I send you a thought of a Rottweiler today.