Gospel 142 ~The Write Will Lie~

I can’t believe I’m lying to NaNoWriMo. An eight-hour workday, plus picking up my kid’s meds, a pet store that doesn’t sell the right dog food. Then we got food poisoning from McDonald’s, but I got to read, and he took his meds. “The Write Will Lie.”

Friday, November 20, 2020

Gospel 142 ~The Write Will Lie~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but isn’t that a lie I write down every day? How many times are we going to have this conversation? About the things, I shouldn’t make notes of? I swear, I’m getting pushed more and more towards behaving like a Republican. “Dear Leader,” to be precise. You know who I’m talking about, our very own President Trump. I lie about my wealth, going on for years now, in the name of motivation. I make a bunch of promises that don’t account for anything. The most damning thing of all is that I’m failing to produce anything.

Now you are not Inspector Echo but allow me to confess this. I lied to NaNoWriMo tonight or this morning about my word count. It’s not the first time, and I have always made good but not this Saturday at 12:30 AM. Long story short, SIGH I’m tired, My Lady.
Speaking of my novel, I’m on Chapter Thirteen, “As American As Apple Pie.” We’ve got an explosion, what it means to be an American. There’s some torture I’m not allowed to speculate on, considering what it’s about. So why not elaborate while I’m wide awake? The only reason I’m wide awake is that come Sunday, I have to write FAILED, once again on my first of Six Impossible Things. My Addiction kicked my ass Lady Sophia and didn’t I say “Wednesday” that I needed to stop being down on myself?

Yet another lie, I said that I showed up, only to be down on myself. After the days I’ve been having at the Day Job, how could I not be? I wonder what would’ve happened if I signed any form for an overnight. Now I’ve signed my death warrant workwise. Interestingly enough, if I’m going to talk about a crappy employee like myself, what about McDonald’s. If they gave me a receipt and somehow, I found the time, I would complain about the food poisoning I got there again. My sickness routine should remain secret? What I won’t keep hide is this fact. That I want to get to bed at 2:30 AM tonight. That’s why I won’t hold my promise to NaNoWriMo. I’m promising myself that I’m going to get a haircut at the very least. Also, get some food that won’t kill me.

If failing NaNoWriMo doesn’t first. Hell, The Write Will Lie.

I Will Have No Fear

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