It’s my wife’s birthday today. It’s the first birthday of either of ours in 8 years that we will not be spending together.
I called her last night to ask her for some money for groceries and medicine, that way I didn’t have to bother her on her birthday, except maybe a friendly phone call.
However, my wife told me I don’t get any more money, and she managed to mutter the words, “drug addict.”
Apparently, the good information, conversations, and the personal exposure that I and others gave her has solidified her belief that cannabis is an “evil drug.” I am not sure how one can read the information, meet the people, and see it work, and then conclude this. Maybe her scientific method is broken.
I genuinely wonder how much of this is coming from her brainwashing family, but that is out of my control.
I remember her birthday in 2009. We went out drinking because it was her 21st. When the clock struck midnight, I bought her drinks until she was cool…like 3-5. We went home, and I woke up in the morning with severe chest pains. She rushed me to the hospital, both of us fearing that I was having a heart attack at the age of 22. The doctors at San Jacinto Methodist hospital were unable to figure out the problem, but didn’t have any problem charging $12,000 for a couple tests.
Either way, with such hostility displayed by those that claim to love me, I have to formally include my wife in the loop with her family and our government, when I say that they are dangerous to health, life, and liberty. As a freedom writer and militia, I have no option but to defend myself if someone completes the OIC triangle in my presence. It’s what I am trained to do. I was created. No just by God, but by our government. They took a survivor and made him an animal…one with no recourse.
When people are oppressed long enough, they fight back.
Well, I’m fighting back. I have no choice. War is not what I wanted. Even those that do not think they are in a war ARE at war. Because of this, I have no choice but to remove some people from my life. I am just trying to make it through this war without being beaten, stabbed, shot, or imprisoned. I may not make it, but it will be a hell of a ride.
Wagen, over and out.