Lesson 230 ~The Anatomy of Hi~

One original sentence, I wonder does that count when you write fiction, how about when every word they want is a lie, or how about when you can’t honestly speak at all or do I just hate people that much. “The Anatomy Of Hi,” sorry I can’t write it ha

Friday, February 16, 2018

Lesson 230 ~The Anatomy of Hi~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I Am Not Afraid Anymore or instead my characters aren’t afraid, you should see how they introduce themselves, and then you’ll know why I’m a writer and live vicariously through them all. It still has to be said though I haven’t been doing any writing recently because I’m busy practicing “Hi” in the mirror and that takes so much out of me on every occasion even when I can’t say it at all, I don’t want to.

Yes I know it sounds like a f*ing excuse, so I’m practicing censorship today; yet for a few minutes, unfortunately, I still remember the b*itch I said goodbye too, the man who said much more than hello and think of the man who should have never spoken. Again my characters don’t say hi, in any traditional sense, to me it invites expectation, but they say “hey” is for horses, and what about Sup, Good Morning, lifting my chin by an inch? Hello gives up the element of surprise, though it might make a lot more sense only that’s the thing, Lady Sophia, my writing never does, and that isn’t a prerequisite to do it, so no more excuses am I right, should I start writing?

If anything I’m falling behind as is between movies and books, The Last Jedi, Fifty Shades Freed, Black Panther, Hostage, and nowadays I’m going to have even more time on my hands. Maybe I’m just upset that my last herculean effort against the bastard I worked for went nowhere and in fact, I wrote an email saying that I won’t be pushing any further. What happened to just writing for me you know, I did finish answering a few text, but that’s par for the course, I guess I shouldn’t knock it though, Fifty Shades started out on the phone.

A phone I never answer because the people on the other end don’t say hi, scammers; what about a woman from one of the “ranches” down Nevada way… yeah, that’s money, but I can respect her at least. My characters introduce themselves with deadly viruses, kidnappings, gunfights, and speaking of which I remember when a gun blast woke people up and now it’s just another day as John Legend would say, “In America, In America, I still can’t breathe in America,” or anywhere just saying.

For now, though I should probably get to writing and worry less about Hi unless my stories suddenly turn normal because who knows what would happen if we all did understand The Anatomy Of Hi.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 224 ~Write Me A Letter~

No, I’m not playing my cheerleader, and this isn’t a spelling bee, now if you have some of that Love Potion No. 9, I would probably use it to drown myself with it, at least it would keep me from talking. “Write Me A Letter,” leave it on the grave ha.

Saturday, February 10, 2018

Lesson 224 ~Write Me A Letter~

“There are only 20 letters in the alphabet”.

“No, there are 26!”

“Oh, I forgot U R A Q T.”

“You forgot one letter.”

“I’ll give you the D later.”

Hey Lady Lu,
I Am Not Afraid Anymore so deliver me a D, loan me an L, and vote me to a V, what does that spell, nothing at all, I’ve never been a spelling bee champion, just ask Google, and how I’m trying to define so much these days.

Defeat not being one of them; yes Lady Lu this is one of those days and not just because of the rain, I could have used a day like this yesterday, Mr. Blue Sky and a Sunshine Day, and I spent the majority of it in bed. Depression is a hell of a drug, and it’s a disease this thing called love as I heard once, breaking my own heart, so is today about getting over myself maybe, getting off my back and giving my hands something else to do and not behaving like, well you know. Dick, a Willie, just another Wiener and there will be plenty of those next week to be seen, but I’ll be keeping mine in my pants though there is a girl here or there that wish I wouldn’t.

Lonely is something I shouldn’t be if I were a better man or at least a less shallow one, I was looking forward to a striptease, but no I’ll be getting ready for the big day. It’s my dog’s birthday; he’s turning 13, which is 68 according to Pedigree. Loser for a best friend he honestly deserves better, though everybody else seems quite content, losers don’t fight back, losers exist for the joy of others, and as the song goes, “I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?” Love am I right, no matter where it comes from it’s always destroying me or maybe I give too much and get too little, and that makes me sound like a selfish douche I know…

“Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?” Loser, Beck

Voicing such feelings isn’t allowed anymore is it, am I still harping on about work, about lies, about not being heard, yeah I hate listening to it as well, but I can’t help but question what I want more. Valentine’s Day, remember, lust, love, and please don’t say like, I think I’ve had more than I can stand of that word being in the general manager’s office a few days ago, I sounded like such an idiot, and no I didn’t win. Victory ha, a term as unfamiliar to me as my name these days.

What have we learned today other than the fact that I’m burning out on creativity and I should buy a dictionary if I’m so out of touch; from Heaven or Hell, from the hotel rooms, the happy homes, the places I might never see could you Write Me A Letter.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 223 ~SORRY, In Capital Letters~

Not for all the tea in China, see even that makes me feel like I owe an apology, but nobody is getting one unless they have four legs and fit snuggly in my bed or two and some good assets, then I’m sure I’ll know one word. “SORRY, In Capital Letters”

Friday, February 9, 2018

Lesson 223 ~SORRY, In Capital Letters~

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” Love Story

Hey Lady Sophia,
I Am Not Afraid Anymore, talk about job security, I never love anybody so that’s why I am perpetually in business and what about that account for my day job? Something I’m going to have to confess to Inspector Echo. My how I hate wasting words, a genocide of thought and I love writing and for that I’ll repeat it, I’m sorry.

Ironically probably my grandest love at the moment which of course is my dog, can’t read and as much as he tilts his cute little head, he doesn’t understand the word. In truth with all of my writing starting from my name to this moment I’m still trying to understand anything and everything. It might explain my depression and why I haven’t been writing because no one wants to comprehend not even me and as much as I wish I could say I’m beyond description, I’m not worth it sometimes.

“Shut up or die…” Pontypool

If anything Lady Sophia that’s been the lesson for this whole godawful week, shut up or become one of them, the infected cretins always just vomiting out whatever is right at the time. Fine, okay, happy, here’s something else I would never say, Trump is a genius, he may be a moron and say some horrible things but the thing about it is, he doesn’t give a rat’s ass what he says. He never says he’s sorry but what does that mean, how does Trump feel about the American people, if he can scream his thoughts to the world “honestly.”

You know something, I think Love Story (1970) has it wrong, love means always having to say you’re sorry, again I’m forever apologizing to the dog, but I didn’t say it at work. I don’t say it to my family, hell I know a woman that loves me, but I don’t tell her I’m sorry. Talk about being a hypocrite; I started this thinking I’m always offering up apologies but other than to my dog who else is there, me and of course Inspector Echo.

My lack of writing might mean that I finally don’t love myself to try and save myself anymore with my words, but that won’t do at all will it? Would it help if I told you I’m sorry, would it help if I wrote it down a hundred times just like I Will Have No Fear, what will it take for me to listen, listen, hear, and understand this one word SORRY, In Capital Letters?

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 217 ~Making Some Black History~

A whole week off and all I could do was think about is my history with a job and my future, how do you know where you’re going, when you don’t know where you’ve been and why couldn’t I just enjoy being. “Making Some Black History,” I should have

Saturday, February 3, 2018

Lesson 217 ~Making Some Black History~

Hey Lady Lu,
I Am Not Afraid Anymore because I’m black and no I’m not talking my race, but at this moment I have a job, I have my words, and my bank account isn’t empty. The thing is with all that; I am looking more forward to the ides of March. Most days I want to survive the night now I must endure the month but what about tonight?

First night back at work in I don’t know how long and this will merely be a prelim to the rest of the month I have to get through, and we’ve been done this road before. As much as I want to believe that everything is going to be okay isn’t it ironic that words got me in trouble with a young woman and silence got me in a predicament with that bastard who’s my boss? Makes a person not want to exist but now I’m not going down the suicidal road again, that’s perhaps why I’m so screwed up sadly like everything else I do it’s always for other people but not myself ever.

“A true suicide is a paced, disciplined certainty. People pontificate suicide is a coward’s act. Couldn’t be further from the truth. Suicide takes tremendous courage.” ― Robert Frobisher, Cloud Atlas

Why should I make their job easier I ask you by maintaining the status quo, my dear Lady Lu am I becoming political and did I mention that I’m fighting another black man and for once not the man in the mirror? I asked Lady Sophia the other day when will I start doing for me and not for others, even now another author wants a review, and he along with one more wants me to be part of their review teams, and I told them no. At the same time though I want to remain a slave, hell I fight for the chains and wear them as hastily as my name badge and lanyard because as much as I speak to the contrary, I am afraid all the time.

You know I learned something today, history is not written by the victors or by the survivors, history is yours the moment you are no longer afraid, and if I were to begin to write that history you know what word I would start with honestly? “No,” and maybe that’s disappointing but what has yes gotten me and I’m sure I’ve said the exact opposite of saying yes to everything but until people understand no they can’t appreciate yes. No, I will not die today, no I will stay in the black, and “KNOW” I will Make Some Black History.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 216 ~Beautiful From A Distance~

For once I look to the future with hope instead of dread, no my dear Lady Sophia all the terror lies here in my words, no wonder I write for others and not for myself after will be more beautiful than now, I think Beautiful From A Distance.

Friday, February 2, 2018

Lesson 216 ~Beautiful From A Distance~

“I just like admiring pretty things from a distance” ― Benji, Alone Together Pop-up (2018)

Hey Lady Sophia,
I Am Not Afraid Anymore; everything is so far off in the distance that you lose all fear of it, editing my book, editing my statement for human resources, or even writing something for Publishers Clearing House. To be fair PCH probably has better odds than the first two, and speaking of people I feel like I owe, don’t I need to write a book review as well, today’s the day right?

A whole month has passed, and I haven’t even looked at my finish novel yet for NaNoWriMo, though I can’t say I’m any more excited that I was when I first finished it. There is also all my procrastination; I swear if I could write excuses for a living I would be in the money, what was it this morning, I felt sick, I have to write a statement to human resources about not writing a full account. Screw PCH but didn’t I tell an author that I finished reading their work and that means one more review, I gave my word, ha my word.

I have fifty thousand words ready to roll, and instead I write about somebody else, isn’t that the story of my life, I don’t have one word for myself because I have so many people speaking for me, the man in the mirror. Lady Sophia, I dream of the man in the distance, the rich man, the wealthy man, the brave one, the guy that won’t be alone, think something like Eli Stone Live Brave. Think of this though, stars are beautiful, but they are just explosions, I’m sure some people believe bombs are awesome until they are pointed at you and falling straight down?

I see success in the distance but in my face is nothing more than a bunch of garbled words, and there goes justice, but I could get a pink slip tomorrow; what about when I was playing PCH every day, and they came here and gave the grand prize to somebody else. For now, I have one more author doing what I have already done, but she’s making money and again my curse to help other people I’m just a regular Darth Plagueis, just saying.

So when will I start writing for myself again, a better question, when will I start writing and getting paid, it’s not like it hasn’t happened? As Bill Cosby put it, “you pick” but then again is he somebody I want to take advice from these days then still I’m a reviewer, and my words look Beautiful From A Distance.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 210 ~You’ll Fill Them Someday~

I had a dream a week ago, and now that vision threatens to end the others, but things change; Thursday I had two siblings, and today it’s official I have three, a younger half-brother. “You’ll Fill Them Someday,” holes in my wallet and life

Saturday, January 27, 2018

Lesson 210 ~You’ll Fill Them Someday~

“In peace, nothing so becomes a man as modesty and humility, but when the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger, summon up the blood, disguise fair nature with rage and lend the eye a terrible aspect.” ― Kevin Costner, The Postman (1997)

Hey Lady Lu,
I Am Not Afraid Anymore because it seems to me that I have spent my life in a graveyard; my dreams have foreseen this, but I am still not a prophet but a gravedigger instead. These days I am filled with so much, I don’t know what and usually this would be the part of the story where I stop eating and just lay down and die, and yet I continue, and that begs the question what’s with the hole or holes?

I’ll fill them someday, with so many tears but what am I crying for, well not yet anyway I’m too tired to bawl, tired of being lied to, of being attacked, how about scared as much as I try to deny it, or just being tired. My father cheating on my mom, having another brother or sister, I could be valuable, and hours later the general manager is calling me “cancerous,” hating and needing my job at the same time, and spending days in bed. You know what pushed me out of bed today, it is rage pure and simple, for all that I wish that love could do, it’s hate that got me moving, and that’s sad I know.

Later on today I’m going to try and bury it down but hate is like a horde of zombies, they just won’t stop, and you learn to endure. My hate won’t disappear; how many words does it take to bury it, them, me, I write, I’ll fill another blank page with words and what will it accomplish; dare I dismiss the value of words? How I know their power and what I write today will be a form of necromancy, but again I give myself too much credit, dreams told me I would have troubles at work, and now I’m digging the hole even lower, and maybe that’s it, I’m alive in the grave maybe.

“That’s the trick of it, I think. We do what we need to do, and then, we get to live. But no matter what we find in DC, I know we’ll be okay. Because this is how we survive. We tell ourselves… that we are the walking dead.” Rick Grimes

A hole has one purpose Lady Luna, and that’s to know fullness, mouths with words, eyes with beauty, blank pages with the truth; I’m telling the truth today, and nobody will hear it, god this will make more holes than fill them up. How many times have I buried myself, I can see Heaven and yet I have not had my feet on solid ground in I don’t know how long. But I keep digging, standing on all my corpses, hoping one day that this holes I’ve created, I tell myself, You’ll Fill Them Someday.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 209 ~For The Write Man~

Words against words, why must we humans create wars with everything that we touch, if it weren’t for certain “aspects” I swear I could take a vow of silence like some monks because if you don’t have anything nice to say? “For The Write Man”

Friday, January 26, 2018

Lesson 209 ~For The Write Man~

Hey Lady Sophia
I Am Not Afraid Anymore, even when I know my name is on some form somewhere, or at least I hope it is; I’ve always thought my future will know fruition along a sentence or two, hopefully not a prison one. With everything, I have ever written, and with everything I have ever said, I still find myself striving to find the right ones, not that I have anything against lust or wrath, or what I would call “love” to be sure.

This week’s words haven’t been right at all and no I’m not talking about the general manager, those words were kick ass, I had a backbone. I suppose I’m trying to drown out the others, the police reports, work, the bitch and don’t worry I think I have spoken enough about how much my writing has cursed me in days long gone. All the same, people fear silence, and it’s enough to drive one insane; tell me a story, but it has to be the story I want to hear.

Part of the reason I’m a reviewer or I should be, I’ve been falling behind with that too, and it dawns on me that I’m not the right man for the job because I say what I usually think in the laziest way possible. Let’s not kid ourselves, Lady Sophia, none of us are right to judge that’s why we specialize in execution; I saw that Larry Nassar got sentenced, according to his story he did nothing wrong, to so many others of course he did, the people believe, hell I agree. My point is what story do we choose to hear, to concur with, the man wrote his own, wrong as it is and yet silence is unwanted honestly.

You have the right to remain silent, how I look at those words now, at my job I don’t but at the same time you don’t have the right, to speak the truth, so let me take a page from Ernest Hemingway. We’re not friends but enemies, I hate you, I despise you, I will never forgive you, and you are a waste of air for all of our humanity.

I won’t ever say those words to him Lady Sophia but that’s my story for him, my review, and I’m sure there are many of me, but he is the wrong man to say this to and as for me *sigh* For The Write Man.

I Will Have No Fear

Lesson 203 ~What’s A Death Sentence~

What can’t we talk about and why can’t we talk about it, death, doom, pain, madness, and what does it matter who sees, because it’s my fingers on the keys, my words that are not understood by most. What’s A Death Sentence hmm

Saturday, January 20, 2018

Lesson 203 ~What’s A Death Sentence~

“we’re allowed to make a lot of mistakes in our lives, except the mistake that destroys us.”
― Paulo Coelho, from Veronika Decides to Die

Hey Lady Lu
I Am Not Afraid Anymore because to be afraid of itself is just action and this entire week sadly I have been a man of inaction for the most part. You see I stand as a man convicted of nothing more than memories and a promise and come tomorrow I will have fulfilled that promise and will probably write my death sentence.

What promise is that you ask “to not say one more word about…” anyway I have done so, I believe, but even that has now allowed me to live as I should which begs the question, what’s a death sentence. It might be like an unwritten rule and you know I’ve been into writing plenty which might be a problem when I made it out to be the solution, still trusting that writing might be my salvation. You know how I like zombies and how someone is working on a virus right now but you know something, that virus is fear, it is what makes us all The Walking Dead.

It is a prospect that twists in my guts and stops me from doing anything; it is the knife turning in my skull leaking all of the ideas but rendering me incapable of writing. It’s the voice in your head, the whispers, the screams, but most of all the guilt and judgment of those that would make themselves your doctors, your judges, and your God. My dear a death sentence is when you open your mouth to speak and what you hear from others is nothing but laughter as if your life is nothing more than the biggest joke in the world to them all.

“So this is how liberty dies, with thunderous applause.” ― Padmé, Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith

A death sentence is a truth you must bleed for; they say the truth shall set you free, and I would like to add “of the mortal coil.” Yes, a death sentence spells freedom for once you have accepted the fact that you will die, that you will lose everything, and who you are in every breath, what you feel is no longer shame, then there is no fear anymore.

Lady Luna, a death sentence can be as beautiful as a kiss, a moment gasping for air, every drop that leaves the body that represents life, you know what I mean, damn censorship, right? So what have I learned today, that I could be looking at my favorite mistake, indeed who knows, sadly I feel these conversations of ours are just continuing to repeat the question What’s A Death Sentence?

I Will Have No Fear

When Rules Yield

When does it become a rule, advice, some idea, a belief that suddenly becomes something that can’t be broken and then again all great leaders break the rules, only to bring about new ones and the like? “When Rules Yield”, time to make rules

How high do you want your crown to be?
A big head, hopes, dreams, wishes, or a word to the sun
that everything it touches belongs to me
So let it be written, so let it be done

As I will go the distance
without exception, excuse or edict
Where truth has always found admittance
Read it, See it, Believe it

Like you were stoned by God himself
Or she wasn’t a princess, an angel, a goddess but a girl
who could fly as high, and was as deep as any nuke in the Commonwealth
And yet the world

Is hers, yours, mine… am I a fool
Weighed, and measured, found wanting to rule

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

First Slam Problems

I was arrested when I was a kid so you would figure being an “adult” would give me some appreciation of freedom in this big wide wonderful world and yet I spend most of my time in a box. First Slam Problems, and second, third

Will it be chicken, sausage, maybe ham
all three and even more
but I really should get out the door

as I’ve never seen a match, a game, athletes on the lam
that some would call tradition
or tell me that wrestling is fiction

And I could always claim a traffic jam
I don’t walk or run, I’m allergic to the sun
Excuses I have a ton

So what’s one more slam,
when I’m here and free
Just not to be me…

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