from the Memories of Vlad Ronin

I, am alone. Before each word hits the page (or screen) it has been routed, rerouted and routed again across countries, territories, oceans, seas, and deserts. My chronicle is translated from one of my native tongues to another, to a foreign language, to another and another until... well, until you read it here and now. You do not know where I am or who I am. Man, woman? Black, brown, tan, white, old or young? You will never know- unless, I want you to. If this is the case, you will be dead.

'I, Terrorist' will be the last thing you see. An avenging angel descending in the righteous light.

I, will never give accurate dates, times or locations for the ACTION I write of. BUT, each date, each time and each location will coincide to one of my many, 'Manifesto in Actions' of the past.

I, may tell of an ACTION that took place many years ago or only a few minutes ago. An ACTION that took place in Djanet, Algeria or maybe it was Yuma, Arizona? Ah, but the key is my companions, it took place sometime, somewhere and it's meaning, its MANIFESTO!! is real and for you to decide. Yes, what is it that YOU say? An ACTION is worth a thousand words or lives or Euros or dollars or Rubles, something like that, yes?

We will see where the journey takes us.

We, will see.