Lesson 286 ~A “Write” Man’s Job~

I know one word I should write over and over, but that word isn’t polite in present company, though to be honest how many times does it appear in novel… that’s not getting published for real. A Write Man’s Job.

Friday, April 13, 2018

Lesson 286 ~A “Write” Man’s Job~

“This is war! What did you expect, glamor! There are no good choices, only lesser degrees of evil.” The Price

Hey Lady Sophia,
I Am Not Fine Today, looking at things I probably shouldn’t write, is it just me or does that title sound a bit racial to you… if anything that is perhaps the least of my problems as of late. “99 Problems” and my story *sigh* is one, two, hell why not over half but the thing is, at least I’m doing, but then again why am I talking to you first instead of writing, no offense Sophia.

If it isn’t my writing, then it’s all the spoilers, The Walking Dead Finale is Sunday, and so is the start of Fear The Walking Dead and I’m scared for all the wrong reasons I suppose. Now that is something my writing can do, scare people because it’s certain no one will be waiting with bated breath for my work, especially the hot garbage I produced the other day. It’s 18,190 words detailing the life of one wasted human, and yet I write which should tell you something; what that I’m out of options because what else can I do, considering the day job sadly.

Just another bit of writing I’ve done, getting my books in order, I do mean the financial; I burned through my entire budget in less than a half-hour, and I have to pick-up my groceries at Walmart, still trying to save some tie. Speaking of time, what about all the books I am so far behind on, and my girls, the good news is they’re all busy doing but are any of them honestly living the life they want? “Cherry” would spend her life on her back and isn’t that my fictional story, just one big porno flick, maybe that’s why I don’t see more guys doing this, just saying.

I’m sure somebody thinks that the RIGHT man for a job is a woman and in that, I can agree here and there but that doesn’t mean I should stop writing now does it? If I do cease writing, I should stop writing excuses, apologies, words to tear myself down when the world will do that for me, like they haven’t already and isn’t that why I write?

All I have to do is bleed to write, but I’m not dead yet, almost like Morgan Jones “I don’t die” it is my curse to watch others because Lady Sophia this is A Write Man’s Job.

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” ― from Ernest Hemingway

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 088 ~What Validates A Problem~

Bask in the glory, of all our problems as the song goes but what are we crying about because there is someone that always has it worse and we’re being selfish? “What Validates A Problem”, is this yet something else I can’t answer?

Wednesday, September 27, 2017

Lesson 088 ~What Validates A Problem~

Hey Lady Lu
No Fear but an answer to a question, how do you solve a problem, I mean any problem in this big wonderful world of ours and I answer, create a bigger problem.

I was talking to “M Anime” today and I feel really bad because I consider her a friend and she feels really bad for considering herself instead of others. Now why do we do that, we’re not allowed to feel bad because other people feel worse, what sort of world is it when we can’t even own what selfishness, I can’t worry about me because I have to worry about you? Don’t get me wrong, she’s dealing with something serious, her family is in Puerto Rico, but she can’t worry about her job because she has to worry about her family but is her worries no longer valid… problem solved.

How about those of us who are the problem, someone considered me a problem and then there was a hurricane and needless to say someone might have bigger problems which in turn solved my problem as well. If anything President Trump is a master at this, have one problem and then try to play the hero, but what happens when you cut off a hydra’s head? The only question is which head is worse, all of them are the same, all of us are equal so why can’t all our worries, concerns, and troubles, be ours without feeling bad honestly?

Then there are the problems we know we have, addictions, phobias, mental, physical, financial, anything and everything and we simply turn our backs on them, because we don’t want our problems we want someone else’s, we fail and that’s on them. If you asked me right now my three biggest problems I’d say swearing off any sexual activity, always worrying about my job, and seeing that Braxton is always looked after. Maybe that’s sort of what my novel was for, create a big problem for some future date so I don’t have to worry about the present to be sure.

Back in school, I would just write math problems, again and again, never having a solution and then I had bigger problems, my father beating my ass, failure, summer school… So what have I learned today, the more things change, the more they stay the same, a problem is a problem regardless of size, sometimes solutions fall out of the sky *shudders*, every single one of us Lady Luna, we are What Validates A Problem.

“Don’t make the mistake of calling what’s inside me worry. Good men worry. Men like me take care of the problem.” Noah Lennox, Beyond Series

I Will Have No Fear


Lesson 036 ~Before Old McDonald’s Farm~

I wish I could blame some meds, that’s right I’m not taking anything, might need to blame the tasty peanuts and speaking of which I might sound nuts today. Before Old McDonald’s Farm, I am so hungry and so sick

Sunday, August 6, 2017

Lesson 036 ~Before Old McDonald’s Farm~

Hey Lady Lu,
There should be No Fear, they call it domestication, being tamed, broken and while I don’t intend on giving you an object lesson in BDSM today… I was thinking more along the lines of animals. Now, of course, people can become this too, civilization is the word some use for it, adulthood, though I tend to think about it as being institutionalized.

“These walls are funny. First, you hate ’em, then you get used to ’em. Enough time passes, you get so you depend on them. That’s institutionalized.” The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

How do you put it back together Lu, hell I have to do it often enough but as you can see I am never the same after each time, indeed far less. If anything it’s just what pieces I’m able to find and fortunately, not all shards are equal, some are more… fun, yeah let’s go with fun. The problem is they all end up in the same place and it doesn’t really matter if you’re still sitting on the farm, instead of running in the Serengeti, now does it.

It sucks trying to change you know, and even worse when you don’t know where you belong or even if there is such a place and so you simply become complacent because there is no choice. That’s what I was thinking about today, forget about the world, or even my mental state, my own body has betrayed me longer than I can remember. I expected neck pain, my back, hell my face or even my tongue but my body wants me to be the same, creature I have always been or even worse than that.

Is it my health or my freedom, today started off with such promise or so I believed and now I’m falling back into that state I was a few days ago. I’ll say it was a brilliant move on my body’s part, what better way to scare me into weakness and submission, or even depression.

Don’t get me wrong Luna I’m damn angry, at my job, at myself, and of course and my own body, it was simply horrible. While I’m talking about my body I have another rule to add, I’ve got to get so much louder when speaking.

“Most people, normal people, do just about anything to avoid a fight.” Fight Club (1999)

If it were any other place Luna and not my job, I would have complained, I would have called them out, hell I’ve called places out for less but I can’t afford another fight at work especially over the grossest bathroom. How about the fact that I was so proud of my record at work and now this is the first time I have ever left because I was sick and I mean ever, so now I feel bad mentally not to mention I lost money. Finally, I think this was because of my anxiety, seriously the moment I started walking to my car I started to feel better, my body doesn’t like it what when I try to eat before work when I try to stand up straight and talk to people, ridiculous right?

Like it’s ridiculous that people get to call me by the wrong name and I don’t say anything, I have a voice I swear Lu, I just don’t use it. So what if I do, do you know how many times I have been mistaken for a girl at some drive thru and again why start a fight about it. What about the every day, I hear myself, I know Braxton hears me, I wonder what I sound like to others if anything my voice just sounds broken and small.

What happened to my ROAR, you know I’m honestly trying to narrow it down to when everything fell apart, that first humiliation that first mistake or moment when fear entered. I’ve got another one for you, I think it was when I turned seven and I watched the cartoon “Beetlejuice” and this character would say “What in tarhooties?!” and copying him I mistakenly said, “what the Hell”, pretty bad then.

That’s the roar that gets the lion shot, that’s the “roar” that gets him mounted as a trophy, something you show off to the other parents and did I mention this happened at my party, you know “The Day”. I became something else maybe, a lion isn’t a lion in the zoo, no animal is exactly what they once were if they ever knew the wild before, they can’t be.

“You ever watch lions at the zoo? You can always tell which ones were captured in the wild by the look in their eyes. The wild cat. She remembers running across the plain, the thrill of the hunt. Four hundred pounds of killing fury, locked in a box. But after a while, their eyes start to glaze over, and you can tell their soul has died. The same thing happens to a man.” XXX (2002)

I tell Braxton all the time to be quiet but he’s a dog and dogs bark, it’s their nature and you can’t fight the biology even if you’re locked in this box with me. Lions and other animals are exactly the same, they are locked away and over time there is just no going back for them, they have the biology but the circumstances just won’t allow it. The same is true of men, Old McDonald had a farm, maybe Old McDonald bought the farm, hell I don’t know his life but this is not the life for me Luna.

A live chicken beats a dead duck… I felt like I was dying this morning and instead I chose to survive, I couldn’t take it but I don’t know what happened. No secret I never want to be at work but I’m telling you now I won’t go back to being just the rat in the cage. So what am I going to do next time, do you still think I should complain about my job, you remembered I survived one sick day but this one was just truly disgusting.

What have I learned today other than the world didn’t end today, that I truly give a crap about my job… and that tomorrow is never promised. Change isn’t easy and when you’re always on the cusp of death, trying to bring life is not a final fantasy which I knew Before Old McDonald’s Farm.

Six Dollar Clowns

Only today because I mentioned it in my “How I Learned to Hate Beyoncé” lesson, did she even exist way back then, every generation talks about the music before but this was the job before… Hardee’s. Six Dollar Clowns hmm

Ha Ha, Oh boy
Or girl
Really the whole damn world
What will it be sir
Voices and noise

Laughing and snacking
Is it not enough?
Maybe I’m just not tough
It’s all just too much
My soul is cracking

They’re attacking
Employers yes
Employees a mess
My soul, shattering

It’s too much
The noise
No joy
Call me a scared little boy
As you serve and eat your mush

Wearing tin grins
Throwing away your trash
Blow it out your ass
And you wonder why I’m sad
Because in the end…

To shout out
I can only stand around
Be bound
Another one of you six dollar clowns
Early clock out

Six dollar clown
But I’m not happy
It’s maddening
Working for Hardee’s
A fool, a loser, a nothing, I wear a frown

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Working Stiff

Working myself to the bone… more like working while I’m shaking in my bones; I don’t just hate going to work but I’m afraid to. Working Stiff… I couldn’t be one of those zombies even if I wanted to be but that doesn’t stop me from dying inside.

Working Stiff
What a jiff

All I have to give
Take a good whiff

That’s me trying to live
And yet I blink
My dreams are nixed

This is not it
Kool-Aid to drink
Then I’d be fixed

But I drift
The missing link
I just don’t fit

Read my lips
Better yet my ink
Working Stiff
What a jiff

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Mime No More

This is what happens when you speak; I mean my penname is “Marquis de Joker” yeah I’m a clown but I don’t have any jokes, I am the joke, makes me a mime. Mime No More… might find out Saturday, my writing was certainly a joke with HR, maybe.

And he would have been sorry
if he could get a grip
of his love-struck heart; boring
But a pink slip
is gruesome and gory
This is it

With his name on the dotted line
He would walk right out the door
Or he would pretend this time
Only what’s the truth there for
He’ll ask God once more

right, he was too damn loud
Talked at all, big whoops
Because he’s a clown and how
For just one big group
Mankind… and he was bound

To want to be one of you
Because of “her”
Pretend, that’s what they do
Wouldn’t you rather…
Well it doesn’t matter; he told the truth
Why was there laughter

if he wasn’t funny
Not enough or too much
Well anyway there goes the money
Where is the love
Suppose he should die really
Because what’s to become should he see

It’s all there in black and white
Line by line and they didn’t have to find
pencil, paper, evidence in sight
Can’t you see his crime?
Guess it wasn’t very bright
There goes his job of being a mime
Sorry is the word that never comes out right

Copyright © 2015 Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.