Tag: Laziness

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

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One of the worst things about being lazy. It’s sitting here being lazy, knowing I’m lazy. Yet I work… ha-ha. So I can afford to be lazy. Then I say I want a beautiful wife, a bunch of kids, businesses, Braxton. I’d be a king? Best Seat Is The Throne.

Monday, November 27, 2023

Tale 149 ~Best Seat Is The Throne~

Three-Hundredth And Nineteenth Rule

Madam Justice
Rules Are Made To Be Broken… But I’m here, aren’t I? Sitting in anxiety, anguish, antsy as all Hell. An A for alliteration?

Maybe then I wouldn’t be sitting on my butt in the middle of the bed if I made more A’s. My father would have beat me more if I had flunked out of Summer School. But there’s Times Like These… What? Thanksgiving or Monday? I wish he’d done the “deed.” Inevitably, I want to be with Braxton. It’s funny how my son was always looking for comfy spots. We both agreed on Yabbos. But then again, he ended up in Heaven, The Rainbow Bridge, or wherever. And I would choose his fur over any girl. No melons are that nice. And yet I sit here at the Dining Room table where I told him one day it’d be worth it. His pillow, bed, my lap

Now I sit alone in the car. But no, I don’t feel “safest of all.” Braxton hated car rides. Once again, my Little B was right about something. Have I ever felt comfortable driving? I know the longest drive was to B’s aunt’s wedding. And renewing my driver’s license… With all of that, where else do I go? I can sit for a few minutes at the Day Job. And hate the whole damn world. That’s why we’re talking Thanksgiving Day. Because as I sit in fear there. I’ll have to rise to get the door for a Thanksgiving meal today: the horror, the horror. Madam, I’m sure the food is good, but it’s the fact I rise at all. I’m like The Walking Dead.

And there was a time I thought if “God Gave Me Everything I Want,” I’d be in a beach chair talking to you. I could look out and see my children playing in the sand. My wife would be beside me or with the kids. Braxton would be in his little chair, getting too old. Only right this second, I want to be in bed. Madam, I mean a king-size mattress. And may I have an understanding wife with the businesses I want to run? Back, butt, beneath me.

Wheeler Walker Jr. sang, “I don’t need no air.” Women can lead you to the grave, sigh. I could be The Succubus Lord taking Hell’s throne. But the Sword of Damocles? Best Seat Is The Throne

1030 Days Without B III, Day 471 of Virgil’s Arrival

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Log 226 ~Up High, Down Will~

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High to me is not falling out of bed, tripping over the walls of the tub, and remembering to put something in my stomach at some point and down, whether it be time, money, or depression SIGH. Up High, Down Will

Wednesday, February 12, 2020

Log 226 ~Up High, Down Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM a Billionaire right now, so how can I be depressed? It sounds like another excuse and how can I even hear it with my ear and all. From last week to this one, it’s like alarms are ringing all over. Still, I sit here, refusing to answer the call. I even have Cherry giving her best impression of Lady Mormont. I’m not getting up for anything, well a pair of black stockings, but today isn’t Thursday. It’s not Wednesday for that matter (Sunday Night). I’m still speeding through time, so no wonder I’m so exhausted.

I wish that’s all it was, and also that yesterday never happened. A slippery slope Inspector Echo and I’ll be right back to “The Day.” Anyway, the theme of yesterday was humiliation. I had to call my “father” about insurance and my humming situation. If that’s not bad enough, he doesn’t care enough to text back. It’s one thing to go begging and be told no but silence? It’s a good strategy, which is why I employ it all the time. You can ask Cherry about that. Insecure, Discombobulated, and repeating past mistakes. Is there anything I can speak to that won’t make me sound like, well I don’t want to put that in the universe. The word I’m looking for is LAZY right, because how long have I been away from The Day Job. At this rate, how will I ever manage another NaNoWriMo?

It’s like I’m drowning in FEAR, and my bed is a life raft. What am I going to do tomorrow? Go back, crawling to my father? Now didn’t I talk some about him and his ANGER? I have plenty to myself you know that much Inspector Echo. Now I’m trying not to be something, something explicit. Only LUST is pretty much the only thing keeping me anywhere near rational for a few hours, at least. It’s my high, that and the ceiling fan. How about some retail therapy? I wanted to buy My Dæmon, DogTV today, and doesn’t he deserve it, I ask. Everything that I desire Inspector Echo and what am I doing to reach it at all. My kid stands taller than me, begging me to get out of bed and go outside.

I’m sorry it’s like I’m the living dead, and Lust is my hunger. Trying to climb, Up High, Down Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 293 ~Words Without End Amen~

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If God and whoever else wrote all they needed and said it why are they still talking our ears off; I’ve nearly finished fifty thousand words, and I know the ending is going to rush; what about a sequel… hah? Words Without End Amen

Friday, April 20, 2018

Lesson 293 ~Words Without End Amen~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I Am Not Fine Today but could I be let’s say three days from now, no promises but less than ten thousand words to go; I’m making better time that I did on November’s NaNoWriMo. On the one hand, I can’t wait to finish with all of this, and on the other, I suppose I need a new depression on how I’m wasting my life these days and probably killing off some fictional characters to be sure.

That’s how I was in November; I finished my novel that to this day doesn’t have a proper title, and then there was just blah, no relief though I slept more, no celebration, and I even had to buy my victory shirt. These books aren’t supposed to be about paychecks and just like when I was in math class writing problem after problem, I “Don’t Panic” when these novels don’t hold the answers I seek. In fact, strangely my erotica has kept me out of trouble, keeping my computer on my lap and my hands out of my pants, just one more reason I’m going to miss novel writing truthfully.

Of course, I don’t have to stop, I’ve been thinking about starting off with a book of poetry, getting something published which leads me back to the math of it all, either the expense of all, the waiting, how about my laziness after such an undertaking as that? It could be the idea that I like to think that I have some wisp of a chance, hope can be as infectious as any other word that I write and like love is one I don’t understand. The only thing I’m sure of is that when it comes to talking or writing I’d preferably write, it’s just like talking to myself except my “father” won’t walk in at the wrong time.

Now I also sometimes mistakenly believe that I have so much to say and then I end up struggling, and it’s never for the right word, I will take anything, but no matter how stupid the world gets, my words will neither be accepted nor understood. No, I might be giving myself way too much credit as though I am some would-be mastermind and Indiana Gone makes it sound like everything will be okay “When I Paint My Masterpiece”… write.

If there was any god to pray to at this moment, I only want more words fifty thousand and beyond, yes Words Without End Amen.

I Will Have No Fear