To the CRA

Ah me, it’s a sorry state indeed, when the truth that is offered for your afters at the bistro at the edge of reality, is so stark, so bare, and so laid out in articulated columns of perfection, with every i dotted, and every t crossed, and finished off with a bold font, carefully colored in with pen to mask the flaws of the typeface. When you get this far down the paths of the dead, when you near the gates of dawn, where the numbers count down fractionally, and the world unknowingly skirts the edge of the number that shall not be mentioned, but has six sides, 3 fat and 3 lean, there comes a figurehead of leadership, that has a dour, straight, pursed lipped appearance, dresses all in black, with a trench coat hanging to their knees, and the dark swirling chaos of wild magic hanging over their heads, in a penetrating miasma of quietly powerful magical intelligence…it is the arch demon himself…it is The Tax Man, and never in all the days of civilization, has The TAX Man ever let his quarry get away, for when it comes to death and taxes, death is done but once…but when it comes to taxation and the use of fractional economics, why; we dispose of Pennie’s and discount them…The Tax Man counts to four decimals, because he is counting and hedging against the future inflation, that may cost him his due, or may result in capital gains deductions that have a free floating numeral attached to them…

I have seen The Tax Man before, his henchmen have been stalwart invisible companions of mine, who are probably missing me, and I really do not blame them…my last communication with them, was in April of 2019, where I asked for information, and they delivered it…and shortly thereafter, I was slipped drugs, had a psychotic break, broke every window in two houses fighting an ancient Korred from the Isle of Man, was arrested, hospitalized, and injected with palliperidone for 13 months at maximum dose and two and half years total, when I flat out refused…and despite my erratic behavior and what seems like an unravelling mental state, having delusions of grandeur and dancing himself a criminal mastermind of dimensions akin to topping anything The Godfather covered in volumes one, two, and three…because all the events surrounding the end of my business, were scorched earth and wiped out everything I cared about, rendered me nearly homeless, told I was now going to have to apply for social security, and tossed from the hospital, the third such visit in 8 months, the first justified in any way. The first, which had done for the business I had owned since I was sixteen, was an anonymous tip, from the bank I had been at where the manager had refused me access to mine own account and would not look herself, despite my assertion that I was being robbed, I was, and while I was in the hospital the first time, my mothers house was robbed, alongside mine…my inventory was not shipped and caused me to split the stitches from my surgery two days after it had happened, loading for a trucking company that did not meet any requirements, was skimming my loads, never showed up in time, and was replacing my stock with other stock, right under the noses of the regulators and the AER because everyone sneers and hides behind their position, and rarely have to defend themselves, they just point to the fact that it is their specialty, and you shut up because you are a layman…m

Anyway, I first started writing my relief ask from taxes back in 2018, when I was cut off from communications for four months, and in the intervening time I have worked on that theme to the point of writing a decent sized novel on the subject of why I believe trauma impacted my life, why there is a cyber intrusion in my wifi attached to my name and location, why I think the court system couldn’t stand up to my Supreme Court level constitution suspending legal challenge, without having to try very hard…writing a fairytale that is terrifying beyond belief, starting two websites where none of the transactions will complete…and generally not behaving like a man on disability getting the smallest of social security payments to get by and seemingly having whatever I like to achieve whatever I set my mind upon…and I concede that that is a perspective that can be taken but; I believe I can explain every piece of it, objectively, and scientifically, except I speak too much, lost my ability to converse in a neutral and passively accepting way that judges demand in their courtrooms…and that is simply put…I have been rendered disabled from all the abuse I have suffered because no one has ever let up on me, including myself, for so long that no one recognizes I am in a fight for my life…and the reason I am running around the way I am is because I am trying to break the security circle of security protocols being the operating systems themselves, who I personally believe are far more intelligent than their operators…and I am trying to open the businesses to generate the revenue needed to properly file 14 years of adjusted tax returns, because the clearance on my dad was not right, and not mine or my mothers handiwork…we wouldn’t have made those mistakes…oh wait…you see, therein lies the problem…my poor mother…who has been used as the fulcrum to point all the communications through, and she is mindless, and has been in a state of denial and learned helplessness since 2007.

Trauma is a visceral word. It Carrie’s with it so many known definitions and is clear in its wording when it talks about the seriousness of the affects it can have on the sufferers.., to the point where they will be working on auto pikot, not processing properly…I go into it in more depth somewhere in the 149 short stories that puked out of me while I was trying to deal with the static trauma loop I was caught in from the injection of the mind altering drugs that turned off part of my brain completely, making it a dead grey space in my thoughts, I studied trauma a lot, from when I first told a doctor I had ptsd and he said I did not, and bi polar was what I was, I simply did not have regular coping mechanisms…so I went 13 years with no treatment for PTSD, was put on antipsychotics and mood stabilizers in 2005 for my “bi polar,” diagnosis…and sixteen years later there were no improvements whatsoever and a massive increase in mental health issues relating to pervasive depression and suicidal ideation…because it was about trauma…the doctor was wrong…and every doctor afterwords, because they all read her notes saying…to never believe a word he was saying, he makes up stories…yep, I did, and there is a huge difference between my notes, my made up stories, and my mountain of paperwork pertaining to my tax return, that I am no longer begging for relief from, but I am not agreeing with any of it…I will disagree and cooperate…and let the CRA have a boo at my t2 return…after all, my corporate income tax returns, owe for not having been done in six years…oh yeah, and containing a good chunk of the money the Canadian Tax man is saying is hidden offshore and owes taxes…it is hidden offshore…and it is mine, it is legitimate, what is not legitimate, is all the paperwork between me and my property…I can’t get my taxes done because of the hypnotic suggestions being run through my internet and radio satellite connections…I am not only not lying, as part of my Supreme Court challenge…will be the challenge to define the roles, rules and penalties around 21st century corporate warefare…it is war, they are military strategies, they are being utilized by terrorists, government agencies, corporations, and insurgents the world over…my rights have been trampled on just a little…I will let the public decide how much, when the full story comes to light.

But for the record: I have been trying to file since 2017, my paperwork of 2018 is devoted to it right up to the point where I was suddenly persona non grata, and ever since, and I found so much in so many different subjects…I want to invoice the investigative agencies who this would be under their purview to investigate…whatever department it is, I want the salary of a mid level agent, times 3 years, and 15 hours a day…and I want it to spend on getting myself the rest and medical help I actually need, to which I was generously insured to receive…al9ng with the millions of dollars that should have paid out around the deaths of fifty percent of the directors and shareholders of the umbrella Dunelm Realty Ltd…I also wish to invoice for the ten years the contract with CMHC ran without my knowledge, but using my brand identity and my sales information, and claim on the missing basis points form the hundreds of CmAs and appraisals I did under threat of reputational suicide, which happened anyway…and my credits for my carbon capture…it is a lot, and then I plan to use it, to remonstrate with some regulatory agencies and their policies and procedures, and the always cherry on top, my favorite part…how they like it, and any corporation likes it, when the language used towards them matches the language they use in their own delinquency and collections, and regular correspondence. I am only speaking in the same dialect…and when you take a regulators correspondence over a ten year period and put it all together…talk about hate speech…and when it was all based on anonymous tips…well, I have myself a slightly skewed legal position, that is why I can understand why a political answer would be to burn me…what the politicians do not realize, is that it puts them on the front line, made matters in mine and my daughters life infinitely more difficult, and can be easily pointed towards the failure of the professional services themselves…I would never burn someone in this fashion…because I would never put myself in such a position legally, which the locals just do not understand…it’s why I resigned from town council…because I was being told behind closed doors, in camera, with a false agenda, that we were going to shred the tax documents going back 16 years and replace the record with a different, more politically easy to swallow one…which we did, with one vote against, in the presence of lawyers and accountants…and I was warned if I said anything I would be held liable, and they investigated me as the principal, and shattered my life and reputation…I was the victim of the fraud…and was to,d to eat it to protect the reputations of the ones who put it in my fathers name in the first place…my rights have been seriously messed with…and I am still trying to work with the system…but not from a position wherein my side is not heard, no matter how crazy I sound, there is a point to all of this…it is my attempt to explain to my daughter that there is a reason her hero lay on a couch crying for three weeks without moving after she found me unconscious on my living room floor, and that I am doing the best I can to protect her…by exposing the glitch in the services that we receive…because of my town and it’s murderously slanderous behavior towards me…since I was 16.

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