Log 023 ~Counting On You Will~

Hurt oh let me count the ways but shouldn’t I count my blessings, how I hate the church, but those habits die hard, and I sort of feel like I’m dying from my side to my overabundance of sleep. “Counting On You Will”

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

Log 023 ~Counting On You Will~

Forgive Me Echo,
I AM A Millionaire right now so you would think I could buy a heart. Hell like The Legend of Zelda the truth is I’m living on some. Didn’t Stevie Wonder talk about living enough, yes I know the lyrics. Only I don’t need my “writing resource” penalizing me again. Speaking of which that is what I’m counting up, crimes, slings, and arrows, other pains. For example, I have to report to Brainbuddy again, like rehab, you know. I woke up after a long nap and of course what happens well happened.

So should I blame “Sweet Slurpee Hayden Bell” from Reality Kings? Perhaps one Pinterest board that now has 151 Sections. Yes, I still plan on owning a brothel one day. I wonder how many girls Dennis Hof had on his roster at any one time? Of course, the Milf isn’t helping. Besides those numbers, there’s the list of aliments I’m suffering through today. How many ribs are broken, not for real? I go for days not thinking about my perfect ears but then again? Mornings are getting weird besides being so tired, but of course, I don’t have a schedule. Case and point we’re talking, and I should be reading. I need to drink more water, There’s never enough hours in the day, and my email is going to explode. What about getting my book published again, for Kindle only?

I think the title is an adequate sentiment, “Gulp.” As far as other book titles, the one I finished, “Fangs For Coming” or how about “Faces Only Fangs Could Love?” The blurb still requires more writing than I’m willing to do right now. Anyway, this week haven’t I mention gratitude, being grateful, hell the ideas keep coming. I have more food than I know what to do with Inspector Echo. If anything, I need to eat more or change my diet. The fact that I can is quite a blessing. How about the fact that I can wear jeans at work all the time now? B III has plenty of time I keep saying to myself because I refuse to think otherwise. I protect him from the negative plus he doesn’t understand the news. I’ll say it, I love my country but hate the President. Now my day job and the people, that’s a question.

I’m sorry I hate Math Echo, Counting On You Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 279 ~E.T. Doesn’t Know Me~

I have all the quiet I will need for the next few days, and I saw two movies this week so much like the family in A Quiet Place what is it I should be doing… surviving, and my book should help with that right? E.T. Doesn’t Know Me

Friday, April 6, 2018

Lesson 279 ~E.T. Doesn’t Know Me~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I Am Not Fine Today but look at it this way they don’t call me big head anymore then again people talk behind my back still, which might explain this backache and the headache. My, oh my is that sounding like I’m writing another excuse but what else have I written today; my name that might as well be mud, how much money do I need so I don’t starve or how hard the pizza man needs to knock on the door.

While I’m busy not helping myself, how about that review I still owe for “Galahad Suns,” how about being an active participant in my writing community, and speaking of reviews, what about “A Quiet Place?” I swear anytime I find a quiet place I want to sleep, to “drift” and no I can’t blame the movies, I mean I always find time to talk to my girls and myself don’t I? More like I still have time to listen, to go crazy, hearing things that aren’t there like all the characters in the book I’m not writing now, again those backstabbers, and worrying about what to say to the pizza guy in a little while.

People loved E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, and yet the government wanted to cut open that big head of his and figure out what was in there; sometimes there is nothing more than hopes and dreams, sometimes it’s the finger that holds power. I said before that I don’t grow because I can’t afford it… is that yet another excuse, traditional publishing cost a whole lot of money, but my ideas, my dreams, this noise in my head continually grows louder and louder. If I was back in school, I imagine that everybody would compare me to one of the creatures in “A Quiet Place” (old habits) hell I do feel like an alien in both this world and the one that I’m building in my novel.

Me and my big head, that’s Mr. Bighead to you, maybe that’s why I like scary movies and sex, I enjoy the sound of screaming, well making other people more so which keeps me up to write because my head is so dense. No wonder I look down so much, mourning a dead man all the time, a career that will never be but still I should look to the stars, one look, truth be told E.T. Doesn’t Know Me.

I Will Have No Fear