Last week around this time, I said I had no energy to tell my story because it was merely a cloud of fear surrounding me, and even sitting in bed back where I belong, there is still so much. Those Who Will Tell because it might not be me anymore
Friday, October 25, 2019
Log 116 ~Those Who Will Tell~
Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but not a snitch. Now how I wish I knew where that no snitching rule came from anyway. How did I understand the meaning of the term BLACKMAIL by the time I was in first grade? Is this a terrible time to mention it’s one of my favorite genres in Hentai?
Well, no but then again the facts speak for themselves. Shusaku, Eisai Kyoiku, Kojin Taxi/Sex Taxi, The Blackmail Tomorrow Never Ends, etc. Okay, I’m calming down, today isn’t Friday, but I don’t dictate life. Only isn’t that precisely what I’m trying to do being a writer and all. I heard recently “They say life is a bitch, yeah, I know her.” Of course, that explains 90% of what I write if I’m indeed generous. So I have been too much for sharing recently. Hell, I even talked to my “father” a day or so ago about my Ma and her panicking. It’s hard to give words to those that refuse to listen, though I should adopt that NO attitude with more than my son. It wouldn’t help with what I’ve been going through recently, but that’s indeed why I write. Yes, too much, Lady Sophia.
Another email from Norton, I would feel flattered if I was more than a zero. I would tell whoever to quote another song, “It’s not easy to be me.” Every day I’m still learning about the man I am. Do I need to pull out all the reasons that I write? Winston Smith in 1984, talks about getting out his internal monologue. Maybe something to that effect. Nothing I could say will wash away the horrors I keep everywhere. Still, I desire the opportunity to explain rather than have a picture be my possible finale.
For example, if you look at me now, an old man typing in bed. My Firstborn is asleep on my knee while I’m surrounded by Hentai DVDs mostly. Yeah, I had to look up The Blackmail, and for a moment I thought it was lost or stolen. Now Lady Sophia, that’s the whole point of me “coming clean” tonight. It feels like the stories I want to tell are the targets of thieves. The hours I spend at the Day Job, some unknown hacker, the time I sleep away. Meanwhile, What am I publishing, not a damn thing, and I was too lazy to call (LANGUAGE). Those Who Will Tell
I Will Have No Fear