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2015 offered up a Ted talk with Bill Gates where he set the stage to introduce a vaccine he named ‘The Final Solution’.

It feels quite weird since the last time I heard of someone use that exact phrase, almost an entire race was eradicated and the world paid dearly for the reluctance to take a firm stance against ideological bullies.

2020 and Bill Gates appears emulating Mr Rogers, clad in the shade of purple historically reserved for royal blood, from head to toe no less.

(Proof the usage of subliminal manipulations aren’t mere hype, gardenvariety sociopaths delight in the practice and gaslighting is it’s psychotic lil sis)

Gates is addressing us commoners like he is our spiritual leader prattering on about what to expect of a pandemic while simultaneously peddling his vaccine.

Almost like
.. the economy won’t open until ya all got my barcode and location tracker embedded under the epidermis…

You ever heard the analogy about placing frogs in a pot of boiling water will cause them to instantly jump out but if you put them in a pot of cold water and gradually turn up the heat, they will submit ?

You and I are the frog dear.

On May 1st Illinois own House Representative Bobby L Rush introduced House Resolution # 6666,

The Covid -19 Testing, Reaching, And Contacting Everyone – TRACE Act.

If my ESL leads me right,  measures meant to help us asides,
the bill would begin the dissolution of your personal freedom.

Like they’ll come in to your home to test you and if you test positive they will either lock you up or remove you to be put in quarantine for a undetermined time?

They’re gonna track our movements ?

They’re gonna pay us to inform on eachother?

If you are already self quarantining why would you need to go somewhere else ?
( barred worsening condition )

Contact Your Congressman, Inform your political leadership of your dissent, email, website, post or phone calls.

Oppose H.R. 6666.

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Sajid Hussain

The body of civil rights journalist Sajid Hussain, a Balochistani refugee to Sweden who’s been missing since March was found in the Uppsala river yesterday.
Everyone is sideeying the Pakistani Security Forces.

Duly note all them human rights witches in government not breathing a word about refugees to Sweden being murdered on Nordic land by militant Islamic regimes.

you see the problem? not a lick of testerone , I’m kinda shocked they can grow beards.

More blood on Löfvens hands.

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Know thyself

My writing is the worst it’s ever been, I’m not merely thinking of lacking grammar and structure, the act of writing is like wading in tar up to my  thighs.
Not quite writers block but not far off either.

I’m all busted up I can’t exercise nor engage in the activities I usually rely on for endorphins.
And since I’m incapable of faking anything I’m just going to write about what’s on my mind even if it veers on the existential side.
At least it’s real and if you think like me, you know grit builds character.

I was gifted a potted flower over Easter and as I’m waiting at the bus stop a passerby ask me what I’ll name it.

This startled me as naming houseplants has never been my custom and I asked him to give me a suggestion.
He says Alexandra and when I ask him why he choose this name,
 he tells me it’s the name of the girl who got killed a couple of days before and I went home and cried for a week.

I now have a houseplants that is my niece’s name sake.

As soul probing as I am, it somehow evaded me how very hurt I still am over losing her.

After years of taunting the Swedish political leadership I thought I’d be in trouble going back but it turns out her not being there is worse than anything those charlatans could have thought of.
Truth to be told,  I have never been this hurt by anyone.

 Her death aged me and it certainly slowed me down. I’m going to be 50 soon and now I for the first time feel my age.

Mourning evolves from initial shock to all consuming grief and slowly,  day by day ones soul adjusts to the new reality.
There’s days when I don’t think about it and then there is something causing a flare up and I’m just gutted with grief.

I had my share of misfortunes in life, for so long I embraced it as learning and I refused to be defeated.
One foot in front of the other will eventually get you where you want to be.
Just keep going.
And that’s what I done.

Then last year I was injured and I’m learning of how the limitations  influence my overall well being.

I feel like I was done mourning her but maybe I’m just too distracted coping with the injury.

Which brings me to you. 

It is critical for your emotional well being to know it’s ok to fall apart sometimes.
And if it happens several times, so be it.
The only thing that matters is how many times you pick yourself up.
Do it again.

I believe it is important to allow the depth of your emotions, be heart broken, wallop in sorrow and feel your souls anguish so that you can cycle trough it.

Once you do, the rebuilding begins, maybe only until next time but with active effort of you taking charge of the pain and steering it, you will be able to heal a little bit more every time until you find yourself developing the ability to compartmentalize the misery because, restricting it you must or it will encroach every aspect of your being.

Happiness is a choice,  You have to decide that you are going to be a happy person. It takes commitment.
Even when it’s not going that great you have to clamp down in the sentiment.

But there are times when a hard cry is a radical act of self love.

Let it out. Let go. Grow.

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Love Evolves

I’d like to think I made peace with it.
Most of the time I enjoy reminiscing and I still love her dearly.

She came to live with us as a shy and retreating little sparrow, timid and easily anxious in a way a child should never be.
I always felt protective of her.

Our personalities were as diametrically juxtaposed  to eachother as one could be.

She always talked about wishing she had my courage, that she was brave like me.

I understand some things are easier for me than it is for others, I attribute much of my personality to the conditioning environment of my formative years and in a effort to embrace this mountain of lemons,
I’m going to try to write some of the things I should have told her in the hopes of bringing a new perspective to someone contemplating their options.

If you are going trough a situation where you are being picked on for your physical appearance,  a disability, sexual orientation or for being different simply, know I am in your corner.

It’s been a long time since but I used to write humour, not sure how humorous I’ll be but it tends to seep trough no matter what the subject,  I’m decidedly sentimental, my meanderings are often slightly transgressive and I am plagued by idealism.

Your average Swede in other words.

As things would have it, I am half Norwegian and half Swedish, both lineages from the far North.

Which means double dose for the uninformed.