October 14, 2019
My very dear Sarah: The indications are very strong that we shall move in a few days - perhaps tomorrow. Lest I should not be able to write again, I feel impelled to write a few lines that may fall under your eye when I shall be no more...
I have no misgivings about, or lack of confidence in the cause in which I am engaged, and my courage does not halt or falter. I know how strongly American Civilization now leans on the triumph of treason and how great a debt we owe to he who went before us through the blood and sufferings of the Mild And Accurate Criticisms. And I am willing - perfectly willing - to lay down all my joys in this life, to help maintain this president, and to pay that debt...
Sarah my love for you is deathless, it seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but Omnipotence could break; and yet my hatred of the caricature of the left conjured by the right wing media I consume to the exclusion of all else comes over me like a strong wind and bears me unresistibly on with all these chains to the battle field.
As the army of the righteous we are at all turns aided by the police and ICE and the military. Victory would be certain if the enemy were not so treacherous and underhanded. While we shoot them and run into them with cars and mock their concern for the environment and for children in cages, they deploy foul language in a manner that is most unbecoming and occasionally punch us. Truly we fight for the very soul of this nation.
Tonight we rest and gather our forces after this morning's strategic withdrawal, a plan our brilliant general Palmer Luckey devised after having studied the president's ability to courageously retreat from every single White House Correspondents' Dinner.
My dearest Sarah, you will surely be grief-stricken to learn that I have sustained an injury when a fellow patriot's shoulder-slung AR-15 discharged after bumping into a stack of Chick-Fil-A provisions. Certainly the bullet would have been fatal if it had not been slowed by my Captain America shield painted with "ironic" Nazi imagery.
I have hidden my gunshot wound so that I may continue to fight the good fight. Thank the divine heavens that we have no oversight. In the socialists' soft-headed world an abortion doctor would give me a fake diagnosis, which would be passed along to a wasteful bureaucracy, and I would be hounded by a witch hunt to be mended at no expense after a ruinous wait. As a free man I can simply ignore this injury while I endanger others, then have it fixed at a great expense that will completely ruin my life and create a burden upon my closest family.
But, O Sarah! If the dead can come back to this earth and flit unseen around those they loved, I shall always be near you; in the gladdest days and in the darkest nights & always, always, and if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek, it shall be my breath, as the cool air fans your throbbing temple, it shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah do not mourn me dead; think I am gone and wait for thee, for we shall meet again and maybe this time you will actually talk to me.
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