Some mornings you are just glad that it was all a nightmare

Waking alive and not in your nightmare is amazing:

Ever woke in the morning and had to tell yourself that it was just a bad dream? I do all the time!

I have so many skeletons in my past, so many deaths, so many moments of acting like you are indestructible, so many wrong doings even if the doings were not your idea and according to the way you live and feel…

This morning slapped me down one last time as I woke and when I sat upon the edge of the bed, I actually told myself out loud, “It was naught but a dream, the past is the past, you will pay one day, but not today!”

The problem is that I get off easy by calling it a nightmare:

Yet, 99% of my nightmares happened in real life and they are actually just a rehash of my life. So, I got up, realized that Sveta is at her sons seeing the grandkids and I was alone in the flat. It was -20 outside, snowing like crazy and I sat down at the computer to see what was happening in the world?

One thing that clears the cobwebs of the past is a cup of coffee:

Coffee helps push aside everywhere I have ever been and everything I ever did for the USA. All in the name of democracy. A democracy that has never been! A democracy that is a fake as the facade of a mask at Halloween!

Yet here I am:

Sitting in Russia, writing again and thinking again and still alive one more day….I have been shot, stabbed, brain tumor, multiples heart attacks, diabetes and several other tidbits of pain and no gain type of stuff. My body is so beaten up, that when even the weather changes and it starts to rain and or snow? Ten minutes before it actually snows, I have to sit down, or fall down from dizziness. I tell Sveta 24 hours what the weather will do. I am like a walking weather machine…

Every broken bone in my past, every injury, every stab wound, every every every trauma to my body talks to me and at those times, they are worse than nightmares. At least in my nightmares, I do not feel pain…

Except the pain of when I relive killing someone over and over again. Killing someone for my country, that I found out was a false lie every time. I think that the lies are the worst part and I see everyday that the lies will never stop, as they are spewed like confection at a parade by the west…

I should never ask myself, “Why do I feel messed up at times?”

Pretty easy to see why? Yet it still is no ones issue but mine and I will live with it till I die…

It is good waking up alive:

For, I get to tell the world one more thing that is going on and I get to hug Sveta a few more times…

I have said, “Sveta and Russia have saved my life!”


About the Author


A survivor of six heart attacks and a brain tumor, a grumpy bear of a man, whom has declared Russia as his new and wonderful home. His wife is a true Russian Sweet Pea of a girl and she puts up with this bear of a guy and keeps him in line. Thank God for my Sweet Pea and Russia.