Log 249 ~Will And His Writes~

What’re 1200 words between friends, nothing at all, so I might as well be writing on the wall of a bathroom stall or the tile of my shower, and it’s not like I’m in a rush to read. Will And His Writes

Friday, March 6, 2020

Log 249 ~Will And His Writes~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but not for long if I behave like last night. It wasn’t sweat, blood, and tears; I was spilling. At this point in my life story, I’m too lazy even to write excuses. Once again, I’m worried about NaNoWriMo, but at least I’m not asking questions anymore. Not to “those” people, and I was whining to everybody else last night (Tuesday). A depression bender but more wasted words and how I hate wasting words. Don’t laugh, Lady Sophia, but then again, I go from having too many critics right to zero.

So what words do matter? The last wasn’t a word, but an oval, I voted on Super Tuesday. Well, the only names I knew were those going against President Trump. Nobody wants to hear this, but the country is going to Hell anyway despite everything. Next would be updating my “counter,” you know the one. Yes, I broke down once again, but I was stressed out. Being out in the world, people were ticking me off. Now I could say so many violent words, Lady Sophia. The terms that will get me in trouble, though “Dirty Old Man,” and “Teen Tennis Star.” Then there are the words that I have to be ever so careful in choosing. It beats silence, but again I’m done being a “BETA” reader. Lady Sophia, it’s like NERVE, are you a Watcher or a Player.

Then explain to me why I wasn’t playing last night with anything other than, well, you know. I still need to come up with the next chapter, which will feature my character “Bridgman.” Who’s going to read it though, Indiana Gone, Cherry, ha? What about writing two sections today, yeah I’m not funny, but I’m not working either. I didn’t send money for my “sexy” investment. Cash is usually always burning a hole in my pocket. At the same time, I struggled to write a note to get out of working SHOES. It doesn’t matter, though. Nobody’s taken the shift yet, and do I need someone texting. No more messages from Norton or H&R Block, but somebody is still trying. I can’t get that music out of my ears. Stuff I don’t want to hear or see, my writing, keys pounded on, another few alarms.

I know what I want to do okay, so why not, Will And His Writes.

I Will Have No Fear

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