Someone recently asked me for a postal address so they can write to me. I now have two long handwritten letters to read. Folk just don't understand that I have a backlog of thousands of emails, and I am just one person, have no admin help, am in the middle of a house move, trying to stay financially afloat, and feeling the effects of years of battling. I am friendly and approachable, but it's unkind to treat me as a sort of free counselling service. I do what I can, but eventually I just have to screen it out; I didn't agree to the the agony aunt of the universe at large. I know other people have it way harder, but it's getting exhausting after all this time.

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
and until we meet again,
May GOD hold you in the palm of HIS hand.

https://rumble.com/vnh0bs--were-going-to-win..-i-love-you..html

In response Martin Geddes to his Publication

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