The Wanderlust by Robert William Service

The Wanderlust has lured me to the seven lonely seas,
Has dumped me on the tailing-piles of dearth;
The Wanderlust has haled me from the morris chairs of ease,
Has hurled me to the ends of all the earth.
How bitterly I've cursed it, oh, the Painted Desert knows,
The wraithlike heights that hug the pallid plain,
The all-but-fluid silence, -- yet the longing grows and grows,
And I've got to glut the Wanderlust again.

Soldier, sailor, in what a plight I've been!
Tinker, tailor, oh what a sight I've seen!
And I'm hitting the trail in the morning, boys,
And you won't see my heels for dust;
For it's "all day" with you
When you answer the cue
Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust has got me . . . by the belly-aching fire,
By the fever and the freezing and the pain;
By the darkness that just drowns you, by the wail of home desire,
I've tried to break the spell of it -- in vain.
Life might have been a feast for me, now there are only crumbs;
In rags and tatters, beggar-wise I sit;
Yet there's no rest or peace for me, imperious it drums,
The Wanderlust, and I must follow it.

Highway, by-way, many a mile I've done;
Rare way, fair way, many a height I've won;
But I'm pulling my freight in the morning, boys,
And it's over the hills or bust;
For there's never a cure
When you list to the lure
Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust has taught me . . . it has whispered to my heart
Things all you stay-at-homes will never know.
The white man and the savage are but three short days apart,
Three days of cursing, crawling, doubt and woe.
Then it's down to chewing muclucs, to the water you can eat,
To fish you bolt with nose held in your hand.
When you get right down to cases, it's King's Grub that rules the races,
And the Wanderlust will help you understand.

Haunting, taunting, that is the spell of it;
Mocking, baulking, that is the hell of it;
But I'll shoulder my pack in the morning, boys,
And I'm going because I must;
For it's so-long to all
When you answer the call
Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust has blest me . . . in a ragged blanket curled,
I've watched the gulf of Heaven foam with stars;
I've walked with eyes wide open to the wonder of the world,
I've seen God's flood of glory burst its bars.
I've seen the gold a-blinding in the riffles of the sky,
Till I fancied me a bloated plutocrat;
But I'm freedom's happy bond-slave, and I will be till I die,
And I've got to thank the Wanderlust for that.

Wild heart, child heart, all of the world your home.
Glad heart, mad heart, what can you do but roam?
Oh, I'll beat it once more in the morning, boys,
With a pinch of tea and a crust;
For you cannot deny
When you hark to the cry
Of the Wan-der-lust.

The Wanderlust will claim me at the finish for its own.
I'll turn my back on men and face the Pole.
Beyond the Arctic outposts I will venture all alone;
Some Never-never Land will be my goal.
Thank God! there's none will miss me, for I've been a bird of flight;
And in my moccasins I'll take my call;
For the Wanderlust has ruled me,
And the Wanderlust has schooled me,
And I'm ready for the darkest trail of all.

Grim land, dim land, oh, how the vastness calls!
Far land, star land, oh, how the stillness falls!
For you never can tell if it's heaven or hell,
And I'm taking the trail on trust;
But I haven't a doubt
That my soul will leap out
On its Wan-de

Stalked in Oklahoma has a new video up.  The audio sucks, but you can clearly see the burn on her face caused by these demonic weapons.  These weapons are cracking our universe and are causing big problems to others who no longer reside here.

We must continue to get the word out about these weapons to all who will listen, and about the truly evil men and women who wield them.  It is urgent. Extremely urgent.

Good, brief news from Stalked in Oklahoma today.  After a painful examination, it has been determined that two of her lung tumors are receding.  Pray that the third does.  She is still very weak.  Pray for her.

I have rarely, if ever, met a bunch of cops who are as stupid as the Volusia County Florida Sheriff's deputies.  Tell them the truth, and they are both too stupid and ignorant to recognize it.

Never, ever, EVER trust a cop.  They always have their own agenda, and when in a group, are even worse. Absolute Fucking Idiots. They're totally pathetic, clowns with badges and guns and most can't shoot worth a shit anyway.

If they weren't County Mounties, they'd have to go out and get a real job, such as pushing burgers across the counter at McDonald's, where they just might get paid what they're really worth.

Bunch of assholes.

Stalked in Oklahoma is very ill.  She spent a month in Intensive Care as a result of the electronic attacks directed at her, complete with chest tubes used to drain the accumulated pus off of her lungs caused by the radiation.  Her name is Vikki.  Please keep her in your prayers.

Nothing yet from the cops, but things like this often take time.  I'm wearing my Molon Labe T shirt just in case they get any big ideas.  Yeah, I'll go down, but hopefully not alone.

Had my .375 loaded with some very effective, deep penetrating ammo that would make library paste out of their little Kevlar vests.

They'd better be glad they stayed home that night.

I don't care if I live or die, but I would bet they do.

 Made the mistake of calling in the local cops after the last theft I experienced.  Turns out these assholes think I have a touch of dementia.  Stupid fucking red neck cops.  They want to come and get me, there will be a slight altercation.  I'm not going anywhere.

My posts must be getting to him.  He has been very active lately.  Please, God.  You have been very good to me throughout my life.  Please let me catch this piece of shit in my house so I can blow his liver out.

The asshole across the street is really trying to get under my skin.  He has committed a series of petty thefts over the last couple of weeks. You know, the slimeball who lives at 940 King's Mountain Road, Deland, FL 32720.

Items stolen include a tube of toothpaste, a hearing aid cleaning tool, a first aid kit,  a couple of drinking glasses, two pair of suspenders, and a baseball cap. I'll probably find some other item missing, but that's the current inventory.

He either enters quietly when I am asleep, or after I have left the house.  He is attempting to coerce me into losing control and forcing me into committing a violent act.  Keep in mind, he is merely a petty thief.  Thieves are only one notch above pedophiles on the criminal social scale and I imagine he is both.

And, above all, he is a coward.          

He has tampered with the sights on my AR 15, but I will soon remedy that.  He is only a lasered 71 yards away.  Hell, I can hit him with a pistol at that distance. I don't need sights at that range.

He is a devout, practicing coward and sends his sweat-hog wife out for the mail.  He rarely leaves his home and when he does, it's always in his car early in the morning.  He sits inside all day like a clam in its shell, monitoring my activities with the cameras that were installed several years ago.

He's a useless cunt.  I hope the scumbags who are running him aren't paying him too much.

My motto all my life has been Iligitimi non Carborundum, a play on words which means, Don't let the bastards grind you down.  He is trying to grind me down, and he will fail.

All things come to he who waits, and I am a very patient man.  I am not about to allow some low rent trailer trash incestuous pedophilic white nigger piece of shit lure me into doing the wrong thing at the wrong time.

Just guessing, but I would imagine he sits inside all day masturbating to internet porn while his shitbag wife is at work. (She's so ugly I couldn't fuck her on a double dose of Viagra.) And I bet he likes the really young ones.  He's probably dialed into a kiddie porn network.  That would definitely be his style.

My day will come.

I hereby apologize to Stalked in Oklahoma for all the nasty things I said about her.  My feelings were deeply hurt and when that happens, I lash out.  I overdid it with her. She didn't deserve it. We are friends again.  Thankfully, she has forgiven me. More or less. She'll either get over it, or she won't. I've lost all the sleep over it I'm gonna lose.