Tag: Honesty

Log 253 ~Willing Form Of Excess~

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As the song goes, why didn’t I say, the things I needed to say, in a way I guess I’m following suit with everyone else, and the truth shall set you free, of the mortal coil that is, falling in love SIGH. Willing Form Of Excess, yep it’s too much

Tuesday, March 10, 2020

Log 253 ~Willing Form Of Excess~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and as always, I want more. My Love, my heart exists in the seven pounds of fluff, that is, My Firstborn. I could hold it my IPad or Kindle when I get a new one, of course. At one point, it could fit like the chocolate on my pillow. My heart is the boom in my ears with whatever I choose to listen to. I could keep it in my wallet, in my pocket, it is every word on the screen. This heart of mine, baby girl, could fit on a computer screen, and I wanted so badly to see it in the mirror. Then one day SUDDENLY, I met you.

Yes, I like Billy Ocean, but ahem that’s beside the point. Sometimes I think I’m drowning in you baby doll. Have you ever noticed that love is always akin to dying? Knees get weak, can’t catch your breath, falling? Butterflies in your stomach, silence, fly away. I could go on, but love seems scary, painful, and torturous. So you think I’m running away from you and the children. I’ve said I’ll never be one of those men with a “Man Cave,” I prefer a Study. Okay, I will have a TV and video games. Anyway, my point is and I’ve said this enough I am afraid if you ever got to know everything. If you knew what I spent three hours today looking up? You know my businesses, my writings, my dreams, but I am a greedy such and such.

Running, I’ll admit to that, but as the song goes, take me as I am, take my life, who am I, Robin Hood? Now, If I were yours indeed, as you are mine, my heart, like the Grinch, grows three times. My Love, there wouldn’t be room for everything I feel for you and our family. I’ve said I would not destroy my vision, not even for you. I’m all Tangled with you being my New Dream. To share this with you, to never burn it away but to bathe in it. You’re my mermaid, my siren, my tsunami, and did I mention I never learned to swim. Worse is I know who I am, what I am, and like Edward, to Bella, I want to protect your soul. There is a reason I’ve always liked good girls, innocent, pure.

I build this world even greater, More, for love of you, Willing Form Of Excess.

“You’ll never be just anything. A tsunami can never be ‘just’ a wave.”
“Get off my chin.”
“I like that about you. Waves are banal. Tsunamis reshape the Earth. Under the right circumstances, even entire civilizations.”
I blink.
“You’re going to be one hell of a woman one day” Iced

I Will Have No Fear

Log 252 ~Heart Hurts More Than Body~

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My Ma would tell me to go easy with all the seasoning salt. I’ve got quite a long history with women, plus I have my furry kid, I haven’t had a heart attack yet, but I know all about broken hearts. Heart Hurts More Than Body.

Monday, March 9, 2020

Log 252 ~Heart Hurts More Than Body~

Hundred And Twenty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, if only because I refuse to see a doctor. Not because I’m afraid. Indeed in this time of plague with the Coronavirus (COVID-19), I’m excited. Now I know that doesn’t sound right, and it shouldn’t, not until there are zombies. Okay, I’ll stop, I know I’m not funny. I’ve never laughed so much until it hurts. Madam Justice, I’m not one for self-harm. Fists at drywall, STUPID things while people watch. Giving into FAPPING (it’s Saturday). Anyway, my body takes a lot, but what about my heart?

Most recently, what I said about Cherry and I don’t mean my novella. I speak my heart to you and the others Madam Justice. No secrets, but you and I both know that’s a lie. If I told you everything, then we would see the end, and that’s how you know I’m not suicidal. Still, it happens the same way; I try to talk to one girl, I speak innocence to another, I don’t tell one more and wham. I’m having a “Harriet the Spy” moment because it’s like they weren’t supposed to see that. I put my heart out here so the body can keep going. The thing is nobody wants my heart. I think that’s why I’ve been down as of late. If I don’t write out how I am, the body keeps it in, and I “mess” up, horny, hatred, heartfelt, whatever.

Women though SIGH, let’s talk about something else that hurts my heart, My Dæmon. My little boy is getting older; he’s bumping into walls, avoiding his walks on cold days, sleeping more. Then again, I’m in bed, and he only wants to be near his Dad. I’m still not working on my stories, and I miss them—what a waste of the day. Somebody took my shift at the Day Job and how did I spend it, Madam Justice, lying here looking at the usual. Even my FEAR of my father doesn’t have me doing anything. Okay, so hurting my friends or them getting hurt, Indiana Gone told me she got punched in the face. My little boy and my writing, what more do I love in this world. The man in the mirror that is such a waste that it hurts to witness myself.

Only the body doesn’t quit, fingers, eyes, ears, dang humming, Heart Hurts More Than Body.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 251 ~A Question Of Willies~

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When am I going to start back writing, when will I get rid of this “dang” humming? How long can I hold out this time, and will I ever read a book with an average guy with no issues, like my six impossible things. A Question Of Willies.

Sunday, March 08, 2020

Log 251 ~A Question Of Willies~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but you keep buying your books, BBQ, and sexual investments. We’ll keep it “PG” as much as possible today. Also note to self, being a southern man and all, I should know not all BBQ places are equal. Today’s was yuck. Now seeing today is (Friday) this subject would be perfect but of course, time-traveler. So I noticed a pattern this morning about you and recent books.

  1. The Gargoyle by Andrew Davidson (Loses His Accidental)
  2. The Five by Lily White (Can’t Control His)
  3. Lust by Ker Dukey (Hates His)

“What!” I hear you scream and then “Ouch,” finally, you cross your legs. Okay do you need context, we have the PORNOGRAPHER, who burns his off in a car accident. A DOCTOR who has to keep his hands off his subject. SPOILER ALERT, he dies in the end. Lastly, we have a college boy who has to film the girl he loves, having sex. I’ve always had this dream that I want a girl I love so much that I don’t want to film her; okay, instead won’t share what I shoot. It’s not Thursday, and don’t get me started on the drama I dealt with for what I said. Anyway, the question is, as usual, what is the matter with you? Yeah, you haven’t done anything yet, but if you follow in my footsteps? We steady on as always. Dealing with Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 008 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  2. I AM Always The “Father” My Dæmon Deserves
    Failed
  3. I AM Reviewing Twenty “GULP” Poems
    Failed
  4. I AM Reviewing Raphael By Tillie Cole
    Failed
  5. I AM Making The Bed Every Morning No Matter What
    Completed
  6. I AM Finishing Writing My Latest Novella
    Failed

Back to one, and just because you’re making the bed doesn’t mean you aren’t still sleeping. I haven’t mentioned the HUMMING in a day or so, but it’s still there. That’s something, while you’re contemplating the mysteries of “manhood.” You can’t keep running from this; you have to do something, one of many problems. Is it any wonder you are into audiobooks? You know what, that’s a theory, men who have lost their manhood for one reason or another. One man can love, but he can’t express it in such physical ways. Another loses control and can’t satisfy his girl. The third can please his girls but not himself until much later. As the song goes, I Can’t Get No Satisfaction, which would explain plenty of things. Well, what about not doing Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  2. I AM Always The “Father” My Dæmon Deserves
  3. I AM Reviewing Twenty “GULP” Poems
  4. I AM Reviewing Raphael By Tillie Cole
  5. I AM Making The Bed Every Morning No Matter What
  6. I AM Finishing Writing My Latest Novella

What about thinking with another part of my anatomy? Another similarity, these men faced death, all A Question Of Willies.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 248 ~And Will’s Sentence Is~

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I’m not a BETA, better yet I’m not a BETA READER, but for someone who knows disdain for most of my words, there are plenty of people saying, “Hey Listen” like their Navi and I’m Link. “And Will’s Sentence Is,” well, it’s usually smut, but it’s honest

Thursday, March 5, 2020

Log 248 ~And Will’s Sentence Is~

WARNING, 18+, READER DISCRETION ADVISED

Come In Dirty Diana,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it starts with writing. Yes, I still intend to make my money much like Dennis Hof. Yet, I want to write a bestseller, and how is that getting along nowadays? I’ve learned that besides great sex, some men only want to be heard. Now that goes for everyone. We want a voice. I ask a lot of women Dirty Diana, sometimes too much, I understand. Words, though, are all I have, and yes, sometimes I take them for granted. I say bad things? Only to be ignored Dirty Diana, silence is a fierce weapon.

Okay, so none of this sounds sexy. Dammit, I’m not playing the ALPHA MALE right now. I won’t be a BETA, though, more to the point a BETA READER. That’s the crux of what’s bothering me these days. I’ve said before I like making women feel good, and do you know why. When women are pleased, so am I. The thing is I’m pleasing women and what am I getting out of it, Dirty Diana. Read my story, she says, praise my poem, tell me I’m pretty and what about me, hmm? My prose, you don’t have to read it, publish your poetry not that I care, be the pervert so I can laugh. I’m a sadist, I enjoy punishments but fuck how I will praise. I refuse to serve out a sentence where that’s all I do, so some girl can tell me where some guy can put his penis. I am so done.

I know that road, Dirty Diana. There was a time I wrote for “gentlemen,” and next thing you know, some girl is losing her panties. The same thing said with my face is a fucking jail sentence. Like I said pervert, and in some cases, yes, I’m skeevy. Even now, I don’t want to sound mean, but why not. It beats begging, didn’t I say that before I’m whining. Dirty Diana, I have no qualms about paying a woman for her body. To possess her mind, though, to know yeah, I’m a dick, but I want to please. Well, rage, rage, dying of the light, and all that which I failed today because I’m so stressed out. The truest sentence, I know, “No, I’m not your Beta-reader, what about me?”

My silence, smut, some shame, what. And Will’s Sentence Is

I Will Have No Fear

Log 247 ~Exit Stage Right Will~

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If you want to imagine the future, well having written a term paper on 1984 and receiving an F I rather not and that sin seems so insignificant to so many other things and yet I steady on, until the Thought Police or worse. Exit Stage Right Will

Wednesday, March 4, 2020

Log 247 ~Exit Stage Right Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and besides that again, I am no politician. Here’s something I’ve learned. If you ever want to know a politician, look at what they fight. They’re against gays, gay lovers, hard on guns, members of the NRA. How about protecting minors, besties with Jeffrey Epstein (shudders). You know I want to protect animals so again I don’t do politics, but yes I do vote. Now, why did I shudder? Well, this morning, I was introduced to a character in Black Mirror, never watching that, not ever.

So I’m listening to Exit Music (For A Film) by Radiohead. Fans of Black Mirror and Romeo & Juliet remember this song I know. Anyway, it got me to thinking Inspector Echo, if you were out there for real. How “messed up would I be for the following actions? Let’s start with something small. I read erotic books. When I’m at work, I started off listening to Dale Carnegie, The Gargoyle, now Beauty and the Professor. I have dirty playlists, and I’m never connecting to my Day Job’s Wi-Fi ever. My mother told me something about that years ago when she “lent” me her password, and she got in trouble. Speaking of good women, I won’t lie, yes I’ve been “into” Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez. Her dancing and some stupid boys talking about her. The latest controversy has been about Greta Thunberg. Some “pornographic” sticker some energy company made. Do I feel it’s wrong; well I looked it up and what did I see, reread the title, Inspector.

I don’t know a thing about most art. Now whether it’s a sticker or some story SIGH, what about my novella? I was almost begging someone to read my dirty thoughts. That’s humiliating in and of itself for several reasons. I just got my bill today for SubscribeStar, and why? So I can watch UnidentifiedSFM and for the love of everything don’t look that up. Of course, you still remember TTB, Teen Starlet, “Russian” ties. Finally, there’s what I want to do with my life. As much as I talk about needing a new plague, Coronavirus is exciting? I don’t want to hurt people, but someday Inspector Echo with all my sins, coming to light eventually hmm? Dale Carnegie says something interesting. Accept the worst and learn to keep going.

Until the sirens Inspector Echo, but I am so very sorry, Exit Stage Right Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 246 ~A Question Of Will~

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I regret not dancing with my friend at her wedding but the song, do you love me now that I can dance, well for the right woman I better learn like “American Wedding” am I right, and I have more questions. “A Question Of Will”

Tuesday, March 3, 2020

Log 246 ~A Question Of Will~

Dear Future Wife,
I AM a Billionaire right now and an intellectual. Yeah, which one of those is truer? You know I’m a Star Wars fan, so I’ll quote Han Solo, “Never tell me the odds.” I’m one to ask questions because I want to know, and at the same time, it’s like I will never understand. If it’s not that, then I already know the answer. In a way, I do, am I the best lover and friend, the best daddy I can. Come on; you think I was going to get through this without music, namely Will Smith. Well, how about 21 Questions?

Don’t worry, my love I’m not going to bore you today with that many. I could ask you how you think my new book is doing. How I respect the NaNoWriMo community, but I’m ready to turn Facebook off. From asking about my book title to the differences between Reverend and Minister. You could ask me how was work today? I don’t want to say okay. What I do now is a million times better than once upon a time? Still, the things I looked up, the stories appearing in front of my eyes, the money, the power, the women. I’ll ask you to stay with me, and I’m frightened of what that answer might be someday. I won’t lie; it was a lack of confidence at one point. Only I know who I am and what I want, and I’ve said, I Can’t Stop.

You ask me, am I happy and I’ll ask you the same. Does the money make me happy, my dæmon, our other children, you? My mom told me once about unconditional love, but she didn’t protect me from my “father.” I will never be like him, but the fact that again you stay, you’re mine. You’ll have to excuse me, maybe it’s novels, perhaps it’s braided hair, or I could have half a brain. I’ll ask you, Real or Not Real; you love me? Star Wars and The Mockingjay, right? The strange thing is, the hardest question I asked you was, what’s your name. After that, everything else followed, but my curiosity never stopped. I will understand someday, but I have to keep asking the questions. One more song; oh darling Stay With Me, won’t you.

I don’t have much of a voice, am I so smart, A Question Of Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 245 ~Pretending Is Optional, Not Requisite~

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One more story so I can pretend to be a writer, I can say I have more time, but if I don’t do anything with it, and I’m starting back listening to my motivations as if I believe I will be inspired. Pretending Is Optional, Not Requisite

Monday, March 2, 2020

Log 245 ~Pretending Is Optional, Not Requisite~

Hundred And Twenty-Sixth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, or so I pretend as such. You know Madam Justice, I’ve never been a fan of that saying, “Fake it ‘til you make it.” Well, my motivations say otherwise. The law of attraction, positive affirmations, my current novella. At the moment, I’m unsure because sitting right here on this loveseat; I don’t have to pretend. The “dang” HUMMING is driving me crazy. In the shower this morning, I was breaking down, if you know what I mean. Going out into the world, I was scared to death.

As the song goes, “If I could be like that.” Again I think of my hero Dennis Hof. He was a Pimp, parent of a dog, and he penned a book. Two out of three right, Madam Justice? Sometimes I walk around like I’m a pimp, but as I’ve been saying a lot these days, things are falling apart. What about my story, am I giving up already? Last night I wanted to, no question. I’m three parts in, and I don’t know where I’m going. In chapter four, Minister Bridgeman is, of course, starting to give away his “holy man” ways duh. What about being a rich man at all? How much money did I send today, gorging myself? Didn’t I have a conversation about not spending money on a new Kindle and an HP Printer? Relax, I didn’t because even pretending to be reasonable is something else entirely.

I pretend to be, well, I’m not even a comedian anymore, I’m only the punchline. What’s sickening though is at the Day Job, I’m upset that I didn’t go in today. It’s (Saturday, February 29) LEAP DAY, which of course, I spaced on. Am I pretending to be a writer, Madam Justice? Getting back into my motivations, one says you’re either a writer or not. I’m not pretending to be a writer, but instead that anything I put down makes perfect sense. I’m living in the moment, and I don’t know what any of this means. My pretending is becoming real but only the worse things. If I may quote another song, “Why do the things I hate come so naturally.” One more reason I sleep all the time. But isn’t that, well “pretend that we’re dead.” I’m not suicidal.

When will I stop pretending Madam Justice, better yet how? Pretending Is Optional, Not Requisite.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 244 ~Give A Listen Will~

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The first of the month and guess what I’m still listening to, I heard in one of my motivations, the man with no imagination, has no wings, but all my imaginings have gone into writing a novella and Audible. Give A Listen Will

Sunday, March 01, 2020

Log 244 ~Give A Listen Will~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, and so are you, do you hear me, do you understand? It’s going to be hard on you, I know. I’ve survived a month of that HUMMING noise. The games I enjoy playing are inaccessible, well, unless you feel like moving the PS4. Now that reminds me of something else you must hear, but let’s get this out of the way. Yes, the old car is still dead. The half-bathroom toilet is broke. You are going to fight tooth and nail at the Day Job because of your continual FEAR. Sleep is going to call on you every second of the day.

Okay first off and listen to me, don’t go wasting your money. It’s there, and tonight (Thursday) I got to hit the books, don’t “MESS” this up for us. I know you want a new Kindle or to buy a ladder so you can break your neck soon. For the love of everything, please don’t. So if I’m going to start begging, here’s something for you to consider, NO FAPPING. Tonight was a test, no doubt, I was busy writing the novella, A Sin Full Of Cherry. I was so ready you have no idea. Well, if you’re reading this, the week was survivable. While we’re on the subject, as much as Audible tried to cheat me out of five bucks. You should invest in more books. I’m here to tell you they help. It’s also a bit naughty to listen to something like Beauty and The Professor. Why can’t you hear, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Completed (Day 008 No Fap)
  2. I AM Always The “Father” My Dæmon Deserves
    Failed
  3. I AM Reviewing Twenty “GULP” Poems
    Failed
  4. I AM Reviewing Raphael By Tillie Cole
    Failed
  5. I AM Making The Bed Every Morning No Matter What
    Completed
  6. I AM Finishing Siren by Hazel Grace
    Completed

You got three wins this week; you’re welcome. I’ll be honest with you, though. There was no choice but to change #6. Reading a book a week makes you akin to Bill Gates. He reads one book a week according to your motivations but A Sin Full Of Cherry. While you’re busy finishing that, hasn’t it been a while since you felt such a fire to write? It’s not even NaNoWriMo season, and you’re thinking 19,200 words possibly? Don’t let others take this away from you ever. Lastly, I ask you not to give up. I know it’s hard; I don’t mean it like that, you’re trying to be brave at the Day Job. You have to win like Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 008 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  2. I AM Always The “Father” My Dæmon Deserves
  3. I AM Reviewing Twenty “GULP” Poems
  4. I AM Reviewing Raphael By Tillie Cole
  5. I AM Making The Bed Every Morning No Matter What
  6. I AM Finishing Writing My Latest Novella

So much noise, but what’s real or at least brings pleasure, Give A Listen Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 241 ~Call Him Iron Will~

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I’m no blacksmith, do they even call it that anymore, the only metals I’m concerned with these days besides My Dæmon’s collar ring is the nickels and dimes I have and what do I usually spend those on, it’s hard not to. “Call Him Iron Will.”

Thursday, February 27, 2020

Log 241 ~Call Him Iron Will~

WARNING, 18+, READER DISCRETION ADVISED

Come In Dirty Diana,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and do you know why? Bucks, Broads, Bullets, and dare I say Biology. I am not my “Father” I don’t beat women or small furry kids. Okay, yes, I hit my sister, it’s called having a sibling. My Dæmon did see the business end of a rolled-up newspaper, but I never kicked him at the door. Okay, before I sound any more like the dude from “The Room,” this leaves Bucks and Broads. I’ve never seen people harder than when they’re defending their money and the desire for more. Men are supposed to be hard for any number of reasons. You know me, though; I’m usually talking about my penis.

It’s Day Two of NO FAP; of course, the goal is seven days like I’m a damn drug addict. If I didn’t mention it before, Sunday night, it was Anna Vlasova, aka Alissa Angel. There was also the woman in the red dress; no, not that one. At least she knows a guy FAPS to her, which isn’t a compliment? I’m trying Dirty Diana, hell I’m listening to The Gargoyle and that’s told from a narrator that has no dick. I’m even going to reread it, so ask me why I’m looking up Audible books from the Erotica genre. Why am I going to cut our conversation short tonight so I can work on a snippet of Apocalypse Rush? If I’m not “holding on” to my “Iron Will,” I need something else, anything else. I hate being gross, hell, if I wanted an excuse to keep my head up, it’s feet. Now that is a fetish, and I’ll never understand, not judging. Fuck Me Pumps, Boots, Frilly Socks, yes please but bare feet Hell No.

No, I didn’t forget about black pantyhose and thigh high stockings now that’s a dangerous road. Okay, speaking of which, I haven’t been playing any games (DAMN DEN HUMMING). I’ve been watching play-throughs. You remember Detroit: Become Human and the Eden Club. Sexbots, sexbots, do you want me to break out Tom Jones’s “Sex Bomb.” Anyway, the Internet being what it is talked about sex dolls and talk about something hard to get around. Real Dolls and Piper Dolls. One more thing to add to my empire when I buy my first brothel, an idea.

Like calling myself Willie Long Stroke; Call Him Iron Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Log 240 ~Will And The Sirens~

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Strange isn’t that I bring up the singing of Sirens when I only unclogged my ears a few days ago, and I have to keep my head full of things, or I worry, but somehow I’m having no trouble sleeping but am I resting? “Will And The Sirens”

Wednesday, February 26, 2020

Log 240 ~Will And The Sirens~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but what do they say of a fool and his money? Well, I’m not looking to spend any of it right this second. Tonight’s addiction (Sunday) is brought to you by The Walking Dead. Didn’t I bring up obsession a few days ago? I’ve gone mad with thoughts of the Dead. Before the humming, it was all Far Cry 5. Earlier it was Detroit: Become Human. Sad to say this evening, it was Anna Vlasova, aka Alissa Angel. As always, if you look her up, that’s your fault; also a red “bosom” dress, thank you Cherry.

With the course of my life, I have felt sway by a great many things. Nine times out of ten, there’s a girl involved. Even here and now Inspector Echo is because some girl wrecked me and yes I deserved it. Ironic, I talked about Dear Future Wife as a wrecking crew. Do you remember the year I spent writing to; well, you can look it up, but Cherry told me, “the things men pay for,” right? I wasn’t paying for anything I was only hoping for a free one and talk about an investment. How about investing in reading and writing? Inspector Echo I finished Siren by Hazel Grace, and that brings about this train of thought. My desires, this jonesing, a man’s primal instincts, and how dare I blame nature. Do I deny it? Well, I’m not reading something that feeds my “pornographic passion.” The Gargoyle, Andrew Davidson.

Only tonight, I’m not reading at all because I gave into sleep. Inspector Echo, sleep if anything holds back my FEAR if the next moment. What happened to replace Greed with Sloth. Excuse this language, but Jesus Christ, money has nothing on me, not being afraid. Now that brings up a sick “affliction,” no, not that one, or something else, but I’m talking about working the Day Job. I can’t “get it up” to help myself, but tell me I’m going to miss a day of work? Again this place has lasted closing in on three years, but the Day Job is eight years and counting. You’ve heard me talk about being FREE, of setting my course. Only I’m like a sailor being sung to, headed towards my destruction. Someone said that satisfaction is the death of desire. Let It Go; Will And The Sirens.

I Will Have No Fear