Too many talking heads, too many voices, and so many versions of what happened today, not that I’m giving a detailed explanation because I would speak more gibberish and hell this isn’t Dirty Diana’s day but not mine either, “All Greek To Will.”
Big confessions of 2019 and I said it before but what a way to start the year; B III and I are making it though, and if only everyone knew forgiveness as he does, yeah three shots would leave anyone PO’ed what about nine? Willing To Be Footloose
I believe I do have some pretty cool stuff but keeping some hard cold cash *sigh*, and with enough of it maybe I could stop time for a moment, though more likely buy it or make it. A Will Too Late, no never, I know what time it is
Warriors Come Out And Write, or maybe I should be reading, yes definitely but I was busy fighting back sleep and losing might I add, didn’t even take an energy shot today but war leaves destruction. The Dogs Of Will
Honestly, it’s not NaNoWriMo making me cry, but I have been so out of it lately, and today I wanted to break down; I swear a shoulder, a lap, in a minute I’ll be like “B III” looking for comfy spots on the anatomy. Love Can’t Will Time
It’s a little earlier tonight, but I still won’t be getting a full night’s sleep, eight hours, six, funny, but if I even get three and tomorrow I should be done with NaNoWriMo, one more novel but honestly *sigh* Will Took So Long.
We’re counting on you, nope no one has ever said that to me or placed a price on my head but all these numbers swimming around in my head, remind me of doing Inventory at the day job and when will I stop looking at these digits. “Win, Will It Count.”
As the song goes, you shook me all night long, or several seeing as how it’s NaNoWriMo month, so I’m falling in love with writing, or maybe I should say “it’s complicated, but it’s getting there. One Reasonable Willing Anesthesia.
“You did not wake up to be something, something, mediocre.” That assumes I got up this morning. Maybe I’ll blame my alarm. Perhaps it’s the dog lying on my legs. It’s cold; in the house, because it’s hot out. Will At The Table but the bed works well
Where does the time go, the last time I held a pen or tapped a keyboard, today, holding onto a paw, that’s later, and winning “Her” hand, a man is busy building Heaven, and that’s paved in Hell as the song goes. Love To Work Will.