My Office Set Up Today!

My office today © Saralina Love

By Saralina Love • 17 June 2021, Thursday

Dear Friendlies,

Today I’m sweating — uh, glistening — in a thin two-layered summer dress with brown polka dotted patterns in a sea of tan. Who’s idea was it to wear a pretty dress to the park for a walk and picnic and work sesh?

Uh, mine, I guess.

Gotta lerk pertay while walking. Not for anyone else, just for me. Makes me happeh putting on a dress. I feel like a spring flurr joining the living as the sun warms my petals to open with her ascension in the ecliptic. Plus, the feeling of the air blowing around your legs and all around your body is so electrifying

Hence, the petals are opening, open. They are open. Yes, the flower is officially blooming — not just a bud; not just a clasped pair of hands avoiding confrontation with the scary, cold, shuttered world in heart and mind as well as body. The bud has wintered for far too long. Let’s not say for how long. Not now, anyway. We’ll speak of that another day. Another, year.

And, I set here amongst the heavy leaves watching the gentle current of life rolling through the lake water before me. Across is the newly descended eagle couple’s home. They picked the most remote point on the lake farthest from any of the human trails and close to the water’s edge. I watch them circle riding the invisible hand upon which they soar and land sometimes deep amongst the branches and other times exposing their clear white feathered heads on a barren tree lit by the setting sun against the contrasting surrounding vast green flooph.

I am calm. I am calm as soon as I step out and into the nourishing moistened air loved by the creatures and plants of this place. I have found my place. It’s a place of friendliness and joy, camaraderie and connection. I’m grateful. The blue heron parent just alit nearby about 15 feet away from me with the quietest rustle from the dried leaves beneath, and then froze to watch and hide from the tethered pit bull walking by. Her nest of babies are just to my right about 100 yards up in the tree which leans over the water. I forgot what kind of tree it is. I hear the babies sqwocking now. Dinner time for all of us. They are big babies. Big butted flooph balls with not as long a neck as their papa and mawma. One baby was lunch money for the eagles months ago. Two remain in their big nest. When the sun is going down, you can look up at them, their bulbous bodies and long skinny necks, legs and treacherous beaks outlined black against the setting light. Their pretty blue can be seen from the other direction when they are wading in the lake near and far when the warmth solar rays brings out their cool steel azure coat.

Dinner won over just a bit ago. I had to join the rest of my fellow folk here. To write or eat, that is the question. If only someone could feed me while I write? Any volunteers? Seriously, I would do it for you. Feeding others is one of life’s greatest joys, well, especially when the one you are nourishing is healthy. Feeding someone who can’t feed themselves because of illness is a different story — still sacred and can be just as playful and sweet, but, if you’re human, the taint of sorrow can cloud the flow of ecstasy. But, who knows, perhaps, no, absolutely, we can choose rapture even and especially in the well of grief. This is a special kind of hero, though, who can do this. We’ll maybe talk about that later, too.

The mosquitoes came to join me at dinner time, too. All shapes and sizes of tiny flyers came to partake — of something, me or my array of lettuces? No one seemed to bite, though — me nor my leaves. I’ll let you know later if this is true or not their tiny vampiric straws can be imperceptible rapists until their silent welts of malicious enzymes appear. Their injections are rejected by my rallying immune system.

I enjoyed my sprigs from my local organic farm. I receive a bushel too big for one each mid-week.

Oooo, the nearby owls are having a field day right behind me twenty feet up the hill. They just started hooting up a storm. Why, I do not know. A dog too close, someone stole someone’s food, a soundless pounce that went wrong with too many interlopers? An unwanted kiss or selfish eater? Who knows. Babies must be hungry up there, too. It is high summer after all. Mawmas and papas still feeding their young grown but staying close still not ready for full on independence. Who is? Are we ever fully ready to be out on our own? The wild animals clearly do a better job — of everything important.

Wow, I packed up as night was falling close to the ground. What gifts came enchanting me.

I breathed in making room for more ecstasy as I walked with my harness of goods ever so slightly lighter from my emptied lunch bin. I came feeling like a trekker in the high snowy alps as if I had hiking poles and a painting easel to boot. Like I was Gauguin traipsing through duned capes to paint his lounging, island nude ladies or, Monet wading through flowered fields to capture his favorite flowered beauties. I was laden with joy carrying my rolled cushioned mat slung over my right shoulder and an extra folded ground cover for a more luxurious camp folding up in an ancient hot pink woven sac made of stiff plastic threads. My leaves, roots and avocado meal had been boxed up inside now clean as a whistle, licked, and my favorite to-go wooden spoon carved with an eyeing doe, my bluetooth portable keyboard — no more two or one thumbed typing for me. My hand hurts from days and nights, months and years of typing while laying down in bed with my two thumbs, and so does my neck! I’m sure I’ll succumb to my thumbs again to type my novellas but, gurl, it does not make my body happy later. Also, necessities in my bag are my trusty cushion-tipped pen to touch my screen rather than my fingers along with a way too heavy five inch high metal camera stand with my phone grasper attached to it, all to keep my parts as far away from the darn cell frequencies as possible. Enough of this radiation nonsense, aye? Now I just need to find some of those special eyeglasses which block blue light and a hat, shirt and hoodie which block all the other radiation, and I’ll be set and hot — not the good hot just well-steamed in all those clothes in summer. How to block 5 gee, radio waves and other radiation while it’s 98 degrees out?

I gathered up all my belongings and stood to witness the beauty before me: the opening through the trees onto the lake to the other side where the eagles rest.

So, I packed my not-so-formidable gear up and rose to see through the trees’ opening right in front of me and lo’ and behold. What did I see. Just what i’d come for. I’d surrendered all expectations of treats for some reason and forgotten all about my excitement to see my fellow wild friends after I’d worked a while and then, finally, stopped to eat into dusk. And, lo, those two, that pair of winged ones across the way straight in front of me.

Suddenly I saw the graceful, keen movement across the way, of one, then two of the bald eagles.

As I walked into the deepening dusk along my path back, the eagles began whistling to each other my eyes rolling back in ecstasy hearing their high pitch calls flying across the waters echoing like rippling waves of sunlight. I breathed in more deeply than ever taking in the glory to my ears and basking in the scents of all kinds surrounding me. Diversity at play and the gifts just kept coming.

Standing glee watching them swoop to feast at above-the-water-blind fish. The night must hide the airborne predators from those beneath the sea. The ideal time to hunt. I could see the fishies splashing as they successfully wriggled to freedom again and again trumping darkness’ cover. Then, more tries like a relay of each eagle. One hunter dipped and clenched and must have caught her dusky snack at last — which all took less than a minute — as she rose to her high perch in the field of greenly abyss retreating with her prize. I could see her white head just catching the stolen sun.

The Stolen Sun photo © Saralina Love

What a privilege. Breathing in more of the divine show, I turned departing my own private alcove, the man-made deck jutting out just so over the slanted earth and the waters edge to step on the crumbling single lane paved road which followed the path of the meandering waters curve.

I lied. Earlier I said that the mosquitoes were uninterested in me. They are not-so-innocuous rapists. As I floated toward my destination away from my office paradise and soaring patriotic birds, one shocked me. Ouch! I was in such bliss at the gift of nature tonight, the air, the setting sun, the light blues melding with pinks then reds and oranges burnt, finally, seeping back into blues again this time darker and darker versions.

A little further on my retreat from stillness, I heard some rustling and then some loud honking. It was the blue heron. He’d been at the waters edge further down from where he’d alit earlier near me. I must have startled him for some reason in such a way as to cause him to flee. It took me a few moments to scan myself to find the culprit: the sound of my leather flip flops were not a common thing to his ears. Most wear tennis shoes while hiking and on perusals around lakes. Any other walker would not have roused him from what I’ve seen as he was clearly hidden and unmolested by visitors only fifteen feet away or so. I continued walking but turned my head back to gaze at his barely glowing wings. The last light caught his angular, prehistoric, outstretched wings exposing the inner white feathers you cannot see when he’s standing. He glided above the water just a few feet from the shore under the protection of the canopy of trees harder for the predators to grasp him. His ancient laws in place for survival for himself, his mate and his young. Another deep breath I inhaled full of awe at another precious site so close. So near. So beautiful.

I remembered that the park ranger would be waiting at the gate. I was late. Oooo. Somehow I wasn’t rushed. I felt at ease. I didn’t know why. There was no sense of panic to return and not an ounce of bracing for shame at encountering a hungry ranger who would be pining for his hot, home cooked meal from which us stragglers were keeping him. Nope, not a morsel of guilt. There must be a reason. I’m conscious of being on time and not keeping people. All I felt was just gratitude. Overflowing, brimming, emanating orgasmic peace.

And in that lucid grace, something made me turn my head ever so slightly as I curled around the lakes’ inlet. My eyes saw some greater gift. The one I’d longed for. The one I especially appreciate. My friend the beaver! He made himself seen, in the water this time instead of up on the coast munching away at his “sunset salad” as I call it. It was later now and he was heading home. Just catching that little lingering light on his bristly, thick fur and on his dark eyes. I saw him seeing me. He was swimming this way along the water line not far from the edge. I stopped, my mouth open. Still, quiet with absolute glee. I met his eyes, mine must have been lit, too, ever so slightly by the dimming light but enough to catch my own glaze.

We don’t think about being seen when we are so consumed by seeing. But, he certainly observes his humans and I am no different. As I stood there agog, my heart opening like a school girl — did mine ever do that? I don’t remember that but, you know that saying none-the-less — the fragrance of my heart must have touched him for he banked toward me right to the waters edge where I stood calm as a cucumber, peaceful as a potato, beautiful as a beaver; He was dear. We looked at each other just a mere eight feet away sharing a moment of communion. He, then, swam slowly on, oh, so calmly, gently waving his tale side to side or up and down — like a dolphin? — and I watched him his body barely visible under the water more clear then than in the day for some reason. I could see his wide, flat tail beneath the water moving though I couldn’t quite make out which way it moved. He was so peaceful. He didn’t rush. He was just so at peace trusting his safety in his territory unfettered by the humans who walked there who let the laws of peace reign in this place for once.

I stood watching him until I couldn’t see him any longer without stretching to see more, I turned back homeward feeling slightly more aware of the time than before. Wow, another sacred gift. Another encounter, and so close, with wild nature.

I am nature, too, with some wild in there somewhere. But, sadly domesticated by the conditioning in my upbringing and 1000s of years of webbed generations taught to be told what to do and how to act and how to submit rather than be wild and protect that very holy wildness. I am more wild than most, people tell me, at least, and less wild than others, I tell myself.

Right now I’m parked, unable to return to four walls, so pleased with the night open air, the infiniteness of the outdoors. You know, there are no walls when we are outside? Did you ever think of that? There are no horizontal barriers. You can just keep going. You can just keep walking, keep soaring, keep dancing, keep singing, keep flying, keep running. Nothing stops you.

You can climb, dive, roll, slide and hike and never ever stop going except by your own volition. Outdoors we are free. We are like the wind. We can be like the wind. We can ride her, too, and be guided by her. She can talk to us and sing to us and can move with us along her ways. We can sing to her, too, and she always listens.

We are the wind. We are the creatures who run through the woods. We are the weavers who swim in the waters. We are the flyers, too, who take their breath unbounded. We, too, are them. We, too, have their feathers and hooves and tales and scales and fur and foliage. We, too, are nature.

We, too, are home amongst the wall-lessness of natural nature’s unending schematic on our spinning globe. We, too, are spinning. We, too, are hurling through space at a speed we cannot comprehend. We, too, are at peace inside our own realms.

We, too, are enjoying our havens we call home. We, too, are beautiful. We, too, are perfect expressions. We, too, are wondrous to behold. We, too, are enjoyable to watch and witness in our own natural habitat.

We, too, are sweet and curious.

We, too, will run to escape danger.

We, too, will stand up and fight if we must though most of that has been punished out of us.

So, we must go back to where we came from: the Wild — to remember from whence we came — to remember who we really are.

Do you remember who you really are?

Do you rouse yourself to defend your imprisonment or do you rise to protect your freedom?

You tell me.

I am listening.

All my love!
I am with you.

Saralina Love

10:22 p.m. Nashvegus, Tennessee

copyright 2021 Sarah West

aka Saralina Love & Sarah West Love

I haven’t changed my name “legally” yet. I don’t belong to their lawlessness anyway so does it matter? So do I copyright with the “legal” name given to me or, my name given to me by my loved ones whom I found later on and chosen by me to don for all?

SaralinaLove.com

The ERA died in Virginia

by Saralina Love

February 23, 2019

Watch my full @cnn interview on Marianne2020.com #marianne2020 #Repost @mariannewilliamson on Instagram

Women have been screwed for millennium and we’ve allowed it. The difference is now as there are people speaking out and its somewhat safer to speak out – maybe – maybe not – with social media at the helm of as the greatest tool for communication ever – and so the couch sitters – some of them are, finally off the couch, and those who’ve always spoken up have more on the team.

Its all about strength in numbers. Numbers and smart tactics are what win over tyranny. Women have felt beaten down because no one supported them before. My mother was beaten down and she took charge only by moving on with her life to do something powerful for others though no one helped her.

Women supporting each other is still somewhat of an anomaly. Women are taught to judge and hold court over other women just as men do over women…. the tyrant within is real.

Women have power trips just like men. How deeply ironic. Here we are apparently fighting for equal rights, fighting for justice and we cant even treat each other with respect.

Saralina Love © 2019 Sarah West. f.k.a. Sarah West Love. All Rights Reserved. • Enjoy deep relaxation, enhanced sleep, expanded creativity with Celestial Mystical Opera

To enjoy videos, visit my YouTube Channel: YouTube.com/SarahWestLove

To all who have contributed to my work, I say a thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you want to contribute financially so that I may keep doing this work that I love, I have set up a PayPal account for that purpose. For my PO Box address, please visit my contact page on my website and it is at the bottom of the page.

To support my work, please contribute here. You can donate these 3 ways:

  1. PayPal.com/SarahWestLove
  2. My Venmo is @SarahWestLove
  3. POBox: snail mail you can send something to me through regular mail to my POBox here (to see the address scroll down to the bottom of the page on this page on my website: SarahWestLove.com/contact

Thank you for your generous appreciation of my writing, composing, sharing of awareness, music, poetry, coaching to help enable me to continue my work in this world

A HUGE thank you to everyone who has listened, read, watched, commented, and/or sent me a financial or other contribution.

For your relaxation, soul nourishment and deep peaeou can, also, purchase my MP3’s and books here www.SaralinaLove.com



#SOTU

What Effect is Atlas’ Shrug?s

by Saralina Love

August 19th, 2016

To The Atlas Society & other thinkers:

So now what?

I think most people are basically good and want to do good. But, perhaps its getting harder to be that for some of those “mosts.” Increasingly, more narcissists are in the world running more than just countries but many of the corporations that are blind to morality in every way willing destroy the earth & all its creatures in order to make a buck or a billion. The reality is: most religions are patriarchal built on perpetuating oppression fiercely with the punishment of death as its most extreme enforcer. Christianity is no different throughout history.

Religions are co-opted by people of power – people who have taken power – and they have used, use now and will use any dogma what-so-ever that people are attracted to, attached to and addicted to in order to poison the consciousness of human beings and teach them to perpetuate their punishment techniques if anyone tries to or gets out of line of the status quo’s selfish agendas.

We know the Catholic Church and the Spanish Inquisition, and the like, killed over millions of people for over 800 years of nightmare, terrifying, terrorizing raids on innocent, free-thinking people. The numbers of innocent women gifted in ancient knowledge of plant medicine, immaculately skilled midwifery, necessary hygiene – we take all of these for granted – and so much more – and many men who stood by their side were killed and tortured calling them “witches” in Europe, this country and anywhere else is hard to pin down. The numbers vary depending on whose research you read. Some Christianity monikered imposters still perpetuate strong patriarchal, malevolent values and various brain-washing techniques to oppress women and keep them underneath and subservient to men. This is real and this is now and this is here in the U.S. of A. Nine million has been the number estimated by the immaculate records are kept in the Vatican vaults and other obscenely monied “spiritual” institutions detailing the murders of these innocents by the Catholic Church.

This country was founded by terrorists who murdered the First Nations people of this country mercilessly and destroyed their way of life for those remaining. Having said all this… I hesitate to venture into the next territory here but I will try.

Its hard to put words to. I am stunned by the all out backing from anybody who equals our supposed basic rights of “Freedom of Religion” to those rights or “laws” – very human, Man-made laws – you The Atlas Society state above about the fascist nature of Islam texts. I haven’t read the texts so, I don’t know. But, I can say that I for one, strongly believe that no child – anywhere – should be made to wear a head covering in a “FREE” country – or, anywhere. If an adult chooses that, then so be it. But a child? No way. That’s not freedom. Clothes are one thing. Our sexuality is a huge issue of control in religions and they – those interested in using any religion to repress, suppress and oppress – don’t like naked people for all sorts of reasons and I won’t go into that. But, something on a child’s head that prevents them from doing very normal things. No, that disturbs my innate sense of protection of a child who deserves freedom at the get go. Why build in these oppressions into a child so early and only a girl? So, they can continue to be slaves of the men? Yes. Period. End of Story. Beginning. Middle and End.

My heart breaks for this world, this earth and all its innocent and not-so-innocent creatures brilliant and ignorant and everything in between. What have we done? What are we doing? Really? Do we really care? What do we really care about?

What belief are we willing to let go of in order to value life itself – everywhere? Our fellow human beings?

I don’t fully understand Ayn Rand’s philosophy. I can’t since I haven’t read any of it. I’ve only heard of her over the years and heard every sort of perspective on her. But, I did listen to all of this radio recording. Though I find what she says sort of contradictory, I also find her utterly, magnificently brilliant and so strong and so deeply fierce. I love that about her. What she was fighting for – what she was really trying to tell people – what her complete solutions were, I do not comprehend from this brief 25 minute manifesto chapter.

I did hear her say something that stunned me and woke me up and perplexed me that I really liked and not-so-sure I like:

She says something about men (always men) who are altruistic are bad because they become slaves and are USED by the younger ones to help them experience joy, pleasure, freedom that the GIVERS are not aloud to have for themselves. Then, when those receivers RECEIVE, they themselves become the sacrificial givers, sacrificial lambs and have to shirk off receiving and die without joy, freedom and self-fulfillment. Everyone ends up being used as well like those before them.

I know i’ve put my own words here. I am obviously not quoting her. I’m using my own limited language trying to comprehend what she was saying.

This point she makes I find utterly fascinating. She, of course, is so right (I know many can’t relate but I can) in this fact and for someone to have stated it back then on the frigging radio so concisely, precisely and out-rightly, I am amazed.

I feel her history as a child who grew up under communist rule through ever utterance she makes. She really speaks from the power of defiance of such over-lordship. And, she speaks from its terrorizing effect as well.

I think these points she makes, whether you agree with the details or not, her over-arching revelations are worth considering if one has the palette to sift through it.

That’s a challenge and it takes brain power. At least for me. I really don’t know what’s true about the people she speaks about. JFK, etc. I wasn’t there. She was there! She heard their speeches, etc. I only read what people want me to read in the history books – that is what’s available. I don’t know what happened behind closed doors.

I don’t know if there is or has been any politician who cared about the well-being and true freedom of other human beings other than to cloak and dagger the situation, distort, distract and deny in order to keep the slave population enslaved, disempowered and impoverished keeping the .0001% in kingly estate.

Politicians are just animated mannequins most of the time except those like G.W.B I. But, what do I know? I’m only a humble small soul in the sea of an vastly over-populated world. Just one of the billions of minds, billions of Souls, billions of Spirits expressing as human beings thinking, feeling, dreaming, breathing for a life of happiness that seems ever in the distance gone when I wake from a beautiful or troubled sleep into the nightmare of life on earth in our current state of ubiquitous terror of all shapes and sizes which are born and bread right here at home on this soil and in this house and even some are the very fruits of my own mother’s womb.

Terrorists live among us. Our neighbors, our cities and in our very own families. I know because my own family members are terrorists. They abuse my mother and have terrorized her for 7 years since my father’s passing in 2009.

So, now what? How do I believe in any kind of freedom on this earth as a human being when there has been not one person to stop the terrorists we live with every single day right here?

No wonder humans turn so completely to religion when life on earth is so completely hopeless. When there is no hero or heroine to be found in anyone. When violence rules and seems never to be punished.

This is why we created religions. To raise us out of the hell hole of mortal terror, enslavement, torture and murder we cannot bare. Our human psyche cannot bare such atrocities so we either become the crazies or we turn to what we call a higher power to escape the pain.

Only the crazies, the narcissists, the pedophiles, the psychopaths, the sociopaths, the megalomaniacs all have hijacked those spiritual truths to create their own manifestos of seduction luring the broken, the lost, the despairing, the dying, the hopeful into their lair of pain through shame, guilt, repression, oppression mind-control with just the spark of that high people call “spiritual” all in the name of God, Allah, Buddha sometimes even, Shiva, Ram, Yaway and many others have been stolen or consciously created to build an indoctrination method more inescapable than Alcatraz whose real intentions are more inpenetrible than Fort Knox.

Whether you can’t get in or out, it doesn’t really matter. Its all a trap.

The war of war is still a war.

So, fellow humans, now what?

PS: The reality is is that we are all contradictions. And, most we don’t – as a culture – have the maturity to understand how to truly manage these contradictions.

I feel deeply in my heart the struggled that other cultures are going through to hold on to what is beautiful and good in their societies in a world where the infection of capitalism seems inevitable and is unwanted by some. I whole-heartedly relate.

Since when did capitalism die and become God?

Why is capitalism king?

The truth is, its not. Its not king nor queen nor any other monarch but some people – many people – have made it so – for obvious reasons.

Capitalism is the new black. Capitalism is the new religion. And, it doesn’t serve everyone. It can’t. Because its built on the concept of someone – a lot of someone’s – doing all the labor to procure the whims of the elitist(s) on the top of the food chain.

© 2016 Sarah West. All Rights Reserved. Aka Sarah West Love • Enjoy deep relaxation, enhanced sleep, expanded creativity with Celestial Mystical Opera – Voice of Eternity

To enjoy videos, visit my YouTube Channel: YouTube.com/SarahWestLove

To all who have contributed to my work, I say a thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you want to contribute financially so that I may keep doing this work that I love, I have set up a PayPal account for that purpose. For my PO Box address, please visit my contact page on my website and it is at the bottom of the page.

To support my work, please contribute here. You can donate these 3 ways:

  1. PayPal.com/SarahWestLove
  2. My Venmo is @SarahWestLove
  3. POBox: snail mail you can send something to me through regular mail to my POBox here (to see the address scroll down to the bottom of the page on this page on my website: SarahWestLove.com/contact

Thank you for your generous appreciation of my writing, composing, sharing of awareness, music, poetry, coaching to help enable me to continue my work in this world

A HUGE thank you to everyone who has listened, read, watched, commented, and/or sent me a financial or other contribution.

For your relaxation, soul nourishment and deep peaeou can, also, purchase my MP3’s and books here www.SarahWestLove.com

During the Reign of War, what Remains of You?

The Reign of War on a Happy Summer Solstice?

Where the Sun is high while we sleep in denial of the Rain of War.

by Sarah West Love

June 21st, 2016

“I ain’t draft dodging. I ain’t burning no flag. I ain’t running to Canada. I’m staying right here. You want to send me to jail? Fine, you go right ahead. I’ve been in jail for 400 years. I could be there for 4 or 5 more, but I ain’t going no 10,000 milesto help murder and kill other poor people.

“If I want to die, I’ll die right here, right now, fightin’ you, if I want to die. You my enemy, not no Chinese, no Vietcong, no Japanese. 

“You my opposer when I want freedom. You my opposer when I want justice. You my opposer when I want equality. 

“Want me to go somewhere and fight for you? 

“You won’t even stand up for me right here in America, for my rights and my religious beliefs.You won’t even stand up for my rights here at home.”

– Muhammad Ali

Can we all channel Mohammed Ali now with his fierce embodiment of his Eternal Spirit?!

“I’ve been in jail for 400 years…but I ain’t going no 10,000 miles to help murder and kill other poor people.

“You my enemy, not no Chinese, no Vietcong, no Japanese.

“You my opposer when I want freedom. You my opposer when I want justice. You my opposer when I want equality.

“You won’t even stand up for me right here in America, for my rights and my religious beliefs. You won’t even stand up for my rights here at home.”
– Mohammed Ali

The phenomenal, truly heroic Mohammed Ali says here in that revolutionary time in US history what we all must start saying – now!

But, what happened? Why did so many go & come back maimed in body, mind and soul? My two uncles came back mentally ill. They were genius IQ level in college and came back from korean and veitnam wars mentally crippled. Totally incarcerated in mental hospitals their whole lives – Well, one of them. The other was not violent and was in and out but mentally incapacitated. They didn’t know how to help them. If they use electroshock treatment on my family members who are mentally ill in the 90’s, what did horror did they do in the 60’s?

What horror. Fighting the white man’s war for nothin’. So many beautiful people died in WWII. i watch the amazing acrobats of the dancers in the b/w footage from the 30’s and early forties. Where are all those beautiful men? Those beautiful smiling faces of all races and colors. Where are all those happy people?

Gone. Dead in WWII and all those that died in WWI. Just walking to their death for Whom? Really?

Was The Great Depression engineered to suppress – knock down all those happy people full of life and love from the 20’s?

While U.S. manufacturers made weapons and other machinery for the Nazis in WWII!

Who makes the guns now in this world?

I’m serious!

The U.S.A. and Russia and the rest make these weapons of murder. “It’s good business – to kill,” they say to themselves – and each other – as they cash in again and again.

And you wonder why they don’t want to ban those military rifles from being sold to those on watch lists? $$$$$$$$ this is why. Period. And, maybe, are they looking for reasons to divide the world? The county? Are they looking for reasons to ban humans?

Are they looking for reasons to create more weapons, more war? So they can make more $money????

What mark is on the bullets that killed all those innocent people in #Orlando?

U.S.A.

The mark of “made in _____” said Made in the U.S.A.

• • •

This world is so messed up. Those “running” the world are so messed up. So many people know this and maybe more do not. How many people know that the U.S.A. brought the #Nazi war criminals back this country to take advantage of their knowledge whether in genetics “research” or warcraft flying machines, etc. They came here! They were brought here, welcomed here by our government, by the wealthiest elites of our planet and they have worked in the U.S.A. government and private corporations pharmaceutical industries i.e. genetic and germ (warfare) – disease – experiments on innocent, sacred, animals and on humans! They’ve continued their psychotic rapture of torturing and killing life – a hobby of these very same elite who’ve passed down their sado masochistic incomprehensible evils for millennia. These psychos live here for the rest of their lives living in luxury while they continue their unmitigated abuse as U.SA.. inhabitants with paid the salaries from American citizen’s taxes as Nazi scientists who tortured people for years – maybe decades.

This whole “War on War,” war on guns war on torrorists is just pure hypocrisy. Period.

The government, the powers that be, just tell you what you want to hear. whatever “side” you’re on. They’ll find a way to make you complicit. Period.

They’ll find a way to trigger your issue and make you passionate for or against whatever it is they want you to be selling for them.

Even your opposition to “them” works for them. It creates division. And, that’s what they want. Division. Because division hurts. Division divides. And dividing is painful. It is ruthless. And, it is powerful to disempower.

Division is powerless. Period. It’s powerless. Powerful to disempower, disassociate and divide to conquer.

You won’t conquer anything, You won’t conquer anybody, you won’t conquer nothing but your own sovereignty.

Your own self dominion will be stripped and laid bare on the blood-soaked floor of war.

War that you helped create.

Because you didn’t #StandUP.

You didn’t #SpeakOut.

You didn’t #SpeakUP.

You slept. You ate. You drove.

You shopped!

You gossiped. You whined.

You looked the other way.

Until, one day, you couldn’t look away any longer.

And, you turned so that you could see.

And, what did you see? What did you smell?

What did you know? What?

What was left?

What was remaining of your world?

What?

What remains of you?

© 2016 Sarah West. All Rights Reserved. Aka Sarah West Love • Enjoy deep relaxation, enhanced sleep, expanded creativity with Celestial Mystical Opera – Voice of Eternity

#StandUp #SpeakUp #SpeakOut #Orlando #LGBT #NoGuns #SAVEourWORLD #LOVEwins #LOVE #Heal #HelpEachOther #SarahWest #SarahWestLove

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