Log 322 ~Blood, Sweat, Tears, I Rather…~

How badly do I want “it,” well, how much time do I give these conversations? I’m always late because I’m doing “other” stuff and thangs. Still, how many days have I missed? Blood, Sweat, Tears, I Rather well um

Monday, May 18, 2020

Log 322 ~Blood, Sweat, Tears, I Rather…~

Hundred And Thirty-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and I WANT to say it’s because I’ve been ignoring what I WANT to do. Even my motivations are mixed in that regard. Either be a man that works his behind off or do what you love and never work a day in your life. I’m both to be sure, but one gets me paid, and the other doesn’t. I bleed, sweat, and cry, for a job I can’t stand, and everything else makes me feel as the song goes Hella Good. Here’s a question, at this moment, how am I feeling?

Ordinary, which means I’m afraid but less so. Indeed fearing to be real is far better than what others would make of me. Whether you know it or not, I’m bleeding with every word I write. It hurts, but at the same time, I find peace. There’s no rage to be had here, and yet people act as if I have struck a blow. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve said some, SIGH, STUPID things but the things others have made of me? To quote another song, he doesn’t look a thing like Jesus, and still as written in the Bible:

19: And He took the bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is My body, given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.” 20: In the same way, after supper He took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in My blood, which is poured out for you.… (The Last Supper)

If I could tell you all the things that make me sweat, for example, daring to use the Bible. How about even going to look for that verse? Wouldn’t Christians call that satisfying work? I sweat at the Day Job, but every drop isn’t for the work; it’s for my escape. Now, if only I could use that for what I desire. It looks like I have plenty of time to work on Gulp, doesn’t it? No, I’ll be looking into more porn, won’t I? I was on the cusp of breaking last night, I swear Madam Justice. Such is my addiction, but I made it over a week now.

So you’re asking me why no happy tears? If I have any tears at all, it’s allergies. Sometimes Tony Baker makes me laugh plenty. I cry when there is something wrong with My Dæmon. I’m sure I talked about that last week. Sometimes I’m scared of closing my eyes because I’m tempted to fall right back to sleep. Again you know what keeps me up in more ways than one. If all I was revolved around that. For a good life, Madam Justice, it takes Blood, Sweat, Tears, I Rather…

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 270 ~Let’s Have The Noise~

Be quiet, shut up, that’s enough noise and isn’t it a dog’s duty to warn his human, but I can take his barking a lot better than the words of most people. He’s indeed his father’s son. Let’s Have The Noise

Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Lesson 270 ~Let’s Have The Noise~

Forgive Me Echo,
I Am Not Fine Today but do you think I will tell anyone; oh sure my fingers hitting these keys, the way I groan when my dog wants me to wake-up and live, the way my heart sounds like thunder whenever the phone rings or there’s a knock upon my chamber door.

Hell sometimes I think I’m turning the pages too loud, which is just another reason I use my Kindle; a small excuse, I can carry my library anywhere but still those damn pages in traditional books. How about the words that I don’t say out loud but are bold on the covers, and even my fashion sense, I find red to be a loud color, but black isn’t supposed to speak… did that sound racist, when you think about it, yeah, people of color aren’t allowed to speak against the status quo. Something else I’ve noticed is I shuffle my feet; don’t I have the strength to lift them anymore other than heading up the stairs to paradise… my bed?

Is it my pride, I think words should have such power and when I speak men tremble, honestly ask my general manager, why do my answers frighten him so; I’m a fan of the second amendment but even more so of the first. Inspector Echo you have heard me say again I do such damage to myself before I ever consider hurting another, don’t I see my words do the most damage. If anything I am the walking embodiment of “The Sound of Silence,” and we know how people can’t take that, they are much too afraid of the truths they will hear, only aren’t I telling myself stories nightly?

My gravest sin today is not giving them forgiveness, their absolution, as though “just kidding” has ever been a salve to me; haven’t I said this before, that laughter perhaps is the worst sound. No one has seen or heard my tears in ages and they never will again as the song goes “but to cry in front of you, that’s the worst thing I could do,” so I’m not that great a sinner am I Inspector Echo, you think?

So I ask forgiveness first and foremost for myself, haven’t I said the point is to make noise, and I’m still so afraid, yes I am scared to be; I’m sorry I can endure the silence like any other pain, and I won’t give that pain to others. I’m sorry I won’t give them what they ask for; saying no to, Let’s Have The Noise.

I Will Have No Fear

Speaking of Roar

My dog doesn’t waste his barks… usually, and cats already consider themselves gods, but every once in a while, the lion must remind the jungle, who the king is. Speaking of Roar, this isn’t enough but I wonder how the lions do it?

Lions and men, teach me to roar
Both find the time to teach me to roar

No need to fight as all understand
the cannons or bombs but teach me to roar

I cry these tears but the sea today
Global warming you know, teach me to roar

With such wasted words, what does Newspeak become?
From concept to actualized, just teach me to roar

As autumn leaves and the trees bare secrets
Snap, crackle, and pop, such violence, so teach me to roar

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Lesson 038 ~Rage, Rage, Against The…~

Let’s just say that what I feel is by no means a straight line but a forest and I am becoming lost so why not burn it down, why not just tell you the desire hmm… “Rage, Rage, Against The…” because maybe I don’t want to accept it truly.

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Lesson 038 ~Rage, Rage, Against The…~

Hey Lady Lu,
No Fear though I was sweating bullets today, I’m still not getting the whole “no fear” prospect but I am trying; yeah tell that to the spider web I hit or to the dog I almost lost right? How about the fact that I’m still up and about talking to you, would I call this work, writing is work, opening myself up to you is work, and the fear never ever stops.

It’s a process but I am answering people back, trying to abandon the caveman antics, still no roar as of late but is my neck supposed to hurt this much? To think the one word that was repeating in my brain other than rage was “Hustle” and the first thing I do after walking Braxton is pass out. Fear is as tiring as rage and while I can name a thousand and one things to be afraid of what the Hell am I actually raging against, so is today’s lesson.

2.66 Billion Dollars or so, don’t ask me where I got that number or why I looked it up but that’s a high price for my rage right, what for, what do I want? I heard somewhere ‘satisfaction is the death of desire’ and desire if anything makes us human, the difference between want and need. Even now, Luna, it wouldn’t be enough and that’s what scares me; am I raging against not having what I want, maybe against the feelings I’m having at all, is it against myself, others.

Rage against the dying of the light, Dylan Thomas said this but I ask you what is that light, it could be as simple as me falling asleep, it could be the fires of Hell. I swear you must be getting sick of me and “the incident” but the moment I forget is the moment it repeats again and again.

“That’s the thing with dames, sometimes all they gotta do is let it out and a few buckets later there’s no way you’d know.” – from the movie Sin City (2005)

Watched a girl at work cry today, rage, tears, more rage, and resolve, like watching a flame, people talk about fire as if it’s one thing or another but at the end of the day fire does one thing, it burns but you got to feed it, without a doubt. I don’t think I’ve ever cried because of a woman, not really my aunt was murdered and I cried because it was expected but justice had been done, there was no need for anymore rage.

I wonder about that girl, will she keep it or let it go, we must never let go of the fire Lu, remember that in all its forms we must never let go period for what is left but darkness then? This darkness I know but I have never been able to stay, every time the light returns and I ask myself what will it be today, and for right now the heat reminds me of a fever a virus. What it worked for “28 Days Later”, so does that mean this will eventually burn itself out, do tears work?

My father makes me cry all the time and that has never quenched me of my hatred, tears can be freeing (amongst other fluids) but in the end, there is always that fire. Monks find inner peace because they cut themselves off from the world and even the best of us only dilute it in other ways… yeah, alcohol has mixed results. So we rage, rage against the dying of the light because the alternative is so much worse honestly.

“Hey, that light? At the end of the tunnel? Guess what? That’s not heaven…

That’s the C train!” – Daredevil (2003)

My rage will not bring back her light, you know, even her nickname feels me with fear but my rage will keep the thought of her and will keep me working. Rage can warm your bed just as easily as love, but isn’t that the difference between Hell and Heaven?

“What is the most resilient parasite? Bacteria? A virus? An intestinal worm? An idea. Resilient… highly contagious. Once an idea has taken hold of the brain it’s almost impossible to eradicate. An idea that is fully formed – fully understood – that sticks; right in there somewhere.” – Cobb, Inception (2010)

That’s what this is, for now, fuel, keep the fire going and when there is no longer rage, something will replace it, the light will not be dying. Maybe it will be warmer, sweeter, maybe it will burn away the past, maybe I will just find a way to manage you know, let it burn.

“Here is your final lesson – do not commit the crime for which you now serve the sentence. God said, “Vengeance is mine.”

I don’t believe in God.

It doesn’t matter. He believes in you.” The Count of Monte Cristo

Relax Luna this is not our final lesson together but I long for the day that my rage does subside; don’t underestimate the power of words but you would think that a mean name, being abandoned, and forgotten so easily would be child’s play. Even before ‘her’ rage has been all there is, I mean what else has there been you tell me, and I don’t want to go back to being afraid all the time. If I lose the light again who knows what will become of me, I mean Braxton is my light in a way if it wasn’t for him, would I…

“If you ever loved me, don’t rob me of my hate. It’s all I have.” The Count of Monte Cristo

My little Braxton is great but maybe some pretty girl will come along and get me all hot and bothered for a completely different reason and it won’t cost me 2.66 billion, my heart would be a bargain. Maybe it will be my success, the spotlight, or movie screen, my own island, plenty of warm light sources. Perhaps instead of burning with hate, what’s her face will be a frozen moment of embarrassment, yes I get plenty of those and I’ll just shake her off.

“Well, you know, Henry Miller said the best way to get over a woman is to turn her into literature.” 500 Days of Summer (2009)

So what have I learned today, stuff I already know… rage takes plenty out of you, the biggest badass can freak out, that the light is whatever you make of it? Rage, rage, and then rage, even more, keep carrying the fire because you must honestly Rage, Rage, Against The…

Vial Rage

Is it always fair to rage, I see fire and yet the heat it gives off threatens to burn me from the inside and whatever could douse it, sweat, blood, tears, ink, cannot extinguish such feelings. “Vial Rage”, I think I shall not rage

And I would call it a plague
how this fever infects
me, I sweat

summoning up the blood
which can never assuage
the disgust, the dirt, my name is mud.

Better though, tears for fears,
than this need to purge, to clear.
I lock the monster in its cage

the white walls of the page.
A mad world of ink,
kink, mystique, doublethink

Don’t rage, rage

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Nobody’s Fuel

When I was a kid and hell even now I always heard that the way to handle a bully was to stand up to them, otherwise they keep coming, they won’t ever stop, it won’t ever stop. Nobody’s Fuel, the ride has to end somewhere

And I will be nobody’s fuel
What’s so funny?
Am I a joke to you?
Clown, Jester, do you think I’m a Mime?
Or is it just my face

because don’t I wish
I was that much of a fool
When it’s just me maybe
That makes you spill your guts
In one way or another

Whether it’s the latest rumor
Wait please not so fast
while you’ve been so cruel
Can’t I be World War III
Remember all the things you said

Let’s share nightmares
So scary right, so angry yes
But where you gonna run
Could I call this a duel?
No, won’t you stay with me

As what you did wasn’t cool
In fact, it was downright skeevy
Only don’t take it back
No way to move forward
I’m nobody’s fuel for tears

What I am is standing right here

Copyright © 2017 Second Circle Creations, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.