Doubt-Lyric(s)

A Story by Abishai100

Narrated epic-portrait of the contoured shapes/breadth of mod-Earth 'inventions' in wrought social/cultural/commercial vanities-duties (for sanity/reform).

A fictional (epic/atmospheric) portrait of inter-religious coexistence 'troubles' in the Western world, loosely inspired by Alan J. Pakula's The Devil's Own (Harrison Ford). Thanks so much for reading,

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Let me tell you of my incomplete-lines reading for my visit to the Kingdom (Belfast) and Ireland (Dublin), during which I explored a rumored cross-border storage of smugglers-linked conflict-zone gems (Ion-company) stemming from Sierra Leone, sullying our mod-Earth commerce-highways talks for consumerism/insurance lifestyle bread/fruit for Selfie-commentary (for the Ego).

"I am looking after the interests of Ireland. If there is anything wrong in this Treaty and if this Treaty be ratified, I want, at least, to see that we don’t be held up as fools. We don’t want Lloyd George again to trick us. I don’t want the British Government to trick us. I won’t trust them. There is an old saying, 'Is mairg a bhíos go holc agus bhíos bocht na dhiadh' and I say that because I do distrust them and not because I want to attack anybody here. I have the highest possible respect for my colleagues, every one of them. There is not one of those men who is not the soul of honour and who is not doing his best for Ireland, and I am fighting now not to be beaten by the politicians in England and by English statesmen. We want to prevent ourselves being tricked by England. We want at least to get something and not to be a laughing stock if it is accepted" (Eamon de Valera, 1921).

Officer English of a Dublin-Belfast stretch-bridge 'game' was chasing me during my visit to the Kingdom (Belfast) and Ireland (Dublin). You see, I'm versed in the works of Frantz Fanon and Eamon de Valera and sought to create an incomplete-writings line for freelance infiltrations work with this (rumored/insured) blood-diamonds smugglers motion in the West destabilizing poverty/unemployment assistance policy-talks for consumerism-injected inter-religious holiday-season coexistence between British Protestants and Irish Catholics (wow). Officer English insisted my (anonymous) posts as a 'freelance' agent of pro-Sinn Fein dialogue ("Foreign Irish Republican Army") marked me as a dangerous self-made 'James Bond' stranger character should I not prove myself to be of some 'credible' (Interpol-relation?) insider-detective 'agent' for social-media culture journal/broadcast diary about smugglers-intercepts in the invisible dimension of treasure-traffic (hmmm).

"There is one thing I want to say; I want it to go to the country and to the world, and it is this: the Irish people established a Republic. This is simply approval of a certain resolution. The Republic can only be disestablished by the Irish people. Therefore, until such time as the Irish people in regular manner disestablish it, this Republic goes on. Whatever arrangements are made this is the supreme sovereign body in the nation; this is the body to which the nation looks for its supreme Government, and it must remain that; no matter who is the Executive; it must remain that until the Irish people have disestablished it" (Eamon de Valera, 1922).

Well, I swapped the (Ion-company) treasures in a Dublin-Belfast motion with a cool replica to invoke some pretty nifty Western world Crown-Jewels 'allusion' for the threats to treasure-storytelling in this 21st-Century Earth of commerce-lines to (incomplete) bureaucracy-confidence (for the ego). I called myself the FIRA-Shadow ('FS').

INTERVIEW: Are you a James Bond dancer, Shadow?
ME: Consider me the Devil's own, friend.

INTERVIEW: Why eco-capitalism?
ME: There's field goal helmets for Kingdom/culture dialysis (now!).

INTERVIEW: You claim you're Catholic but not necessarily Irish (eh?).

ME: There's plenty street-duty IQ for Protestant-Catholic life-coexistence worry, friend.

INTERVIEW: Where are you from?

ME: I can tell you I'm an 'avid-fan' of Mardi-Gras, friend (ha).

MERCHANT: We've no interest in street-insurance talk for eco-capitalism matter.

JOURNAL: This has the Interpol-relation sound of bureaucracy, no?

MERCHANT: We've maintained strong liaisons between Dublin-Belfast for UK-consumerism.

JOURNAL: Sounds of a new famine...in 21st-Century incomplete-distances readings for leviathan.

MERCHANT: Thanx.

Friends, this micro-crusade of mine has become an econ-culture lifestyle 'bred' journal for the matter of Earthling magic and jewelry, and it speaks to Protestant-Catholic relations in a new Blue-Planet of 'fare-rich' holograms of discrete social-media 'friendly' dowries. It's all worth it, and it transformed me into a Romanticism-diarist (wow).

GIRLFRIEND: Come to the football game, Shadow.

ME: I need a Selfie-insurance for winter-season happiness, away from English.

GIRLFRIEND: You should become a restaurateur (Dublin Bread).

ME: Facebook like.

GIRLFRIEND: Irish-curry and french-fries and rice for my darling Shadow.

ME: Sound (incomplete) majesty, darling.

GIRLFRIEND: You should write that novel...Becoming a Citizen.

ME: Hospitality's dialysis (for the Ego).

As a Catholic-man and 'world-citizen' of 21st-Century Earthling beads-to-bureaucracy for capitalism-race super vision in the eco-illusions, I consider all this cheer for spirits and labor-dialysis a reflection of what's made our social-media (sportsmanship) culture a high-art for all things...universal. Is this magic or darkness?