I am a fairly rational person, thus, in reference to the major events of the history I have been graced to witness in my lifetime, I am diligent to shed my own initial delusion until the core truths reveal themselves.
Often, the extravagant thoughts that I conjure when I learn of something new are reduced to forms more simplistic and "real" when I seek the knowledge that is hidden behind the headline. However, after six years of illegitimacy, five years of lies, and what seems to be a lifetime under the weight of an Administration and its party, who disgrace my nation by dismissing all reality in pursuit of pure politics, my perceptions of reality seem more and more like works of a horrible fiction. The novelesque reality I face is a result of the deliberate failures of an axis of delusion, an axis of binary thought.
A plague of fallacy and disgraceful ineptitude has infected my government. Worse, I suspect that these contemptible individuals have wreaked havoc on my nation to capitalized on the consequent wreckage. Therefore, the "simplicity" I had sought is often a complex, dire extravagancy that makes a mockery of my wildest imagination.
To say that it is grueling to maintain one's realism in a propagandist society is an understatement. To reaffirm my mission to preserve mine is a manifesto. That said, I offer the strong opinion that the reality I seek is becoming increasingly more like a cruel flight of imagination or some horrifying parallel to realities I had grown accustomed to in my life. And with that, I fear that the worst delusion I could ever muster falls far short of the capabilities of these men and women to alter reality with grave severity, thus, ending the waning dream-state of the stability I had once enjoyed.
In a cluttered office, somewhere, a man is toiling to perpetuate this surreal state of affairs. Because he is insulated from the consequences of his ruthlessness, he is free to dream of the future. He has adopted the duty to preserve the power of those who seek to enrich themselves on the starvation and misery of the conquered lands in their wake. He is likely to have developed a swift contingency should his battered nation at last raise their voices against him in November.
I cringe at the grandiose manifestation that hovers in my mind's eye.
This man, these men and women, have no concern for a single human life outside their circles. Nor is there an inkling of regard for the many components of the every-day inherent to an oppressed lifetime.
He enjoys the blessing from powerful superiors identical in a corrupted and evil ideology. He is encouraged by an overwhelming praise of his treachery. He is provided any necessary tool to craft his wicked machinery, which is then unleashed on an unsuspecting populous despite stark forewarning of wailing prophets.
I fear for the upcoming months. I fear that although my polished interpretation of reality has led me to thoughts and theories I would have once deemed as delusion, I [we] am now faced with a great battle in my war against a diabolical enemy. We are now in an enclosed space with a wounded beast. With our own survival at stake, we must slay this fierce animal, and therefore, we compel ourselves to inch closer.
It is indeed a dreadful and difficult task; but we must ready ourselves for all possibilities. We must explore any and all impending attacks this beast has at the ready to preserve its survival. Based on the incarnation of this "new reality," I warn that the possibilities are without limitation. I warn that the potential actions taken in the immediate future will be of no regard for anything we perceive as sacred, including human life.
Should it serve a purpose, I propose the possibility that terrible things shall be "allowed" to occur on our soil. Whether these atrocities occur before or after the November Midterm Election is subject to the whims of those who operate the wicked machinery. They will be implemented based on the perceived gravity of each individual circumstance and whether their impact would better serve as a "warning" to recapture the politics of fear, or a "punishment" for the just removal of a loyalist Congress.
As I write today, I simply cannot believe what I am saying. However, my [our] unwilling venture in to the unbelievable story that is the reality of the past six years has affirmed the realism in what would have once been laughingly dismissed as fantasy.
We are in the box. We are wounded just as is the beast; and only one of us is getting out alive.
It must be us. Our peril would ensure the peril of our children.
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