I Think Maple Street’s Bugged (Book Review)

When I usually think of maggots… well, whenever. I think of the dead. And this book, The Maggot on Maple Street, has that too. Well, a death wish, and yet words coming alive as well. Flesh, finding oneself, and fuckery. I Think Maple Street’s Bugged.

If you don’t read anything else, with the way things are going in the world today… Remember, The Maggot on Maple Street for your bug-out bag. It will remind you that there was once intelligent life on this planet. One of the many things Courtenay Schembri Gray is trying to convey. Well, that’s amongst many. And did I say many other things going on in her head? Brains! Indeed if the zombies haven’t gotten to you yet, you still have. That is if you’re reading Courtenay’s book; Ms. Gray, if you’re nasty… indeed, some elements of this work. You’re warned.

Long story short, or compilation, which it is. It’s a collection of poetry from a quite profound young writer. Not to sound cliché. But each and every poem really makes you think. That’s both a good and a bad thing. But more on that in a moment. Such a mind. Courtenay’s talent is immeasurable for such a small work. But if there were more to it. And yes, I have read other titles of hers. Such as Cherry. I suppose she can’t give it away all at once. Such experiences and realizations. Which should drive us all while. You’ll see.

That is if you’re lucky enough to read this work. I imagine “read” would be much too small a word for it, like something out of the movie “The Menu.” When it comes to writing… You do not only read her poetry. You imagine, dream, you relish every single word. Again there is far more to it than that, and again if you will give me the time. I ask you to share some of your time with The Maggot on Maple Street. Hell! The title alone asks for that and far more of us. I have discovered that myself.

It’s not as if Courtenay is asking you to take this journey alone, as she, too, is on a path of discovery of her own. To be on the same road. And yet we all end up in different places. Or maybe we like where we are and choose to stay, as The Maggot on Maple Street will remain with me for quite some time. There’s indeed so much to keep in mind while reading it. The same can be said for her, which is why she chose to share her thoughts with the world. The Maggot on Maple Street

If you have stuck with me until now… no spoilers. These are only my own personal opinions. Yes! Other than this. What are you waiting for? Go buy this book today. Yesterday, if you have a time machine. My own idea. Courtenay takes me to some strange places in musings.

The two poems that garnered my full attention from the get-go were “Mother Cauldron” and “Saturn (De)vours.” There was a line that immediately gripped me in “Mother Cauldron.” And again, the mere titles of these works will give you pause. And then it’s as if you’re running through the words, and you do catch them. Only you don’t know if you’re winning or losing. Or if the writer herself is in her thoughts of how she sees, well herself. This is the same way you see “Saturn (De)vours.” And maybe that’s it. Those two poems were when I first started seeing the writer. And not only the feelings and emotions she was invoking. Now is this a good or bad thing? I don’t rightly know. Yet as for me. I indeed liked seeing the writer and not only the dream that she has shared now. But the mix in everything…

In every other work of Courtenay’s, you’re looking to recapture that moment of her looking at herself in the mirror. This is where Courtenay truly shines, to be quite honest. Having kept up with her other work. It’s the difference between working on herself and “working for the man every night and day.” The fact that most of her work falls into the former is pretty brilliant. Finding those truths that she has discovered about herself. You can only wonder if she, too, stopped. Like you will find yourself doing as you read through her poems and go, “WHOA!” I can’t say how many times I did that myself. Sometimes you may even need to close the book and let the ideas settle in your mind. Just for a bit. One of the reasons it took me a bit to go through such a small book. It’s that damn good.

It’s that damn good, and other things you will say about The Maggot on Maple Street. What, is the title too long? And if I tried quoting Courtenay herself, I think we would be here all day. And I could be reading her book again and again. Um, I guess?

And that brings us to the good, the bad, and the ugly. Well, not really, as I gave this five stars but then again… I’m pretty picky when it comes to books. So I wouldn’t exactly call myself a softie. Not when it comes to this kind of work, ha-ha.

As I’ve already said, the best part of her work is when she’s more or less talking to herself than it seems to an audience. You can tell every poem is like that, but you can see the difference in the wording. It may just be beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that to be sure. Which is something that Courtenay herself is trying to see. Everything can’t be beautiful, and every poem of hers… As a collective, you see the best. But here and there. Sit at your typewriter, keyboard, pen, and paper; what have you and bleed, right? Courtenay does plenty of that and more. It may even scare you in places. Or invoke other emotions and the thoughts of other bodily fluids. And the experience or lack thereof that this writer may have in her own life. Coming to such things, um, maybe.

And again, I say experience. I’m not exactly a genius or anything but with Courtenay. Besides looking up her other works, may I suggest you invest in a dictionary and thesaurus? Am I being overdramatic… in a way? But as any guy can tell you, you’ll be on cloud nine and focused at the same time, and then suddenly, it’s like, huh, after a moment. Keep in mind; that this is poetry and not prose. So there is no warning between particular states of thinking or being. But I can promise you’ll stick around for the whole ride. Courtenay’s poetry can be a bit of a mindfuck for the best and worse. There’s no question about that. Is there a better word than that? Well, I lack this author’s vision. I have read her entire work and enjoyed, studied, and liked it. Something or other…

It is worth the read, though. And for everyone telling me to tell my friends. I can honestly say, at the very least, I have shared the name Courtenay Schembri Gray with some I know. And I’ve said what I’ve said to you and everyone. I Think Maple Street’s Bugged.

Gospel 282 ~Try And B Professional~

I said I didn’t want to tell a sad story. I hate my Day Job, but here I am to talk about B’s work experience. Hell, he took the one job that no other American wanted… when he loved me. 365 and 24/7, my Chihuahua would Try And B Professional

Friday, April 9, 2021

Gospel 282 ~Try And B Professional~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but Hell, my “father” only wanted me to get a job, and I can’t be mad.

Braxton would be these days. Literally, because the grass is poking his “whanger” while running the fence. I should never forget how great a teacher B III is. Did you know “whanger” is the U.K. equivalent of wanger, which is how I spelled the word originally? As for my son himself, I wish I could find all the rules he taught me. One of my favorites being “legs, breasts, and thighs are best in a bucket of chicken.” I continue to admit I hate math all these years, which is why I’m burning through wealth like there’s no tomorrow, if only. How do I learn to live without him? Last night I forgot to call him for “medicine time” damn, wrestling was on. My bad…

I’ve been thinking that Braxton had to become a mad scientist. His little body became a lab for god knows his schedule for taking his meds, the food he ate, and the water. I want to tell happy memories, but could a fucking water filter have saved him? I don’t care if he was a Trump supporter. Isn’t that weird coming from someone who originates from Mexico? I’m sure B III himself was born in the USA. He believed in our border wall, e.g., our gates. He hated nearly everyone, and he loved Black People, me, the family, Indiana Gone. Then why did he leave me all alone? My moods, I tell you, Lady Sophia, but Braxton was the best therapist, counselor, and dear friend.

People don’t believe me, but when I was sick and taking too long in the bathroom, he’d carry a blanket over to the door and cry. He would lie with me and lick my hand when I was unwell. When I was “hurt,” he would lie on that body part wishing it better, my kid. He was an expert cuddle buddy; I still miss our back-to-back formation, on guard even in sleep, good and bad. He must have figured I would drown one day, the way he called me out of the shower, so I can add lifeguard to his resume. With all the NaNoWriMo’s I’ve done, he is also a co-author. Today still unpublished.

I killed his book character. I’ll Try And B Professional.

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 248 ~SUM Of Braxton’s Parts~

My foot hurts, my back, I’m still itchy, and as for a cure for a broken heart… Braxton wasn’t an M.D., but he always knew when something was wrong and what was worse. If only I had been better at that, he would be here instead. SUM Of Braxton’s Parts

Saturday, March 6, 2021

Gospel 248 ~SUM Of Braxton’s Parts~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I rather “dance with my puppy” again, for the record “Dance With My Father” blah.

And blah is what I should be saying about all my pain… physically at least. I smashed a toe at the Day Job under a carton of shoes. As has become my habit, I thought of my son with the hurt, and that was that. Watching Braxton leaving me, dying. There is no worse pain Lady Luna. I’ve said before with all my anxiety and terror, there is no greater fear for me anymore. I’m a black man “living” in America; let the cops come. I can’t tell you I love my “father,” but I no longer fear him. Braxton was scared of him too. That brings me to today’s point. B III did so much for me, all “look daddy no hands,” my boy.

He’s still sitting there on the nightstand. His paw prints, the small bag of hair, “The Box” (for those of you keeping score, my second cry of the day). Thirty-Four days ago, there was my alarm clock, two tins full of cash, my knives. Braxton would wake me up anyway.
Well, not for the Day Job, but he was always here, after. Right now, he would probably be sitting on my foot, knowing that it hurts. You won’t believe me, but if I were sick, he would carry my blanket. And sometimes nudge me to my bedroom and welcoming covers. Crying would be something new to him. He whined, and all I wanted to do was sleep. As for now, I’m dead, or it’s never.

If he wasn’t trying to earn his M.D., he was a different sort of alarm, Triple B Security, that’s what. He protected the house every day and, of course, me. It’s still scary, and to be honest, I had only touched my gun once a few days ago; frightening thoughts. Only Braxton was all about my health. I don’t remember the last time I took a walk. To work, shop, but I don’t really shop now. I think I said Subway and a bucket of chicken. I never bought Braxton anything from the Day Job. Otherwise, I’d be more broke. Saving money and losing it; a man of contradiction. I need Braxton here to show that I’m not crazy. There’s only SUM of Braxton’s Parts.

I Am Afraid Without Braxton

Log 329 ~Words Destroy More Than Bombs~

I’m always so concerned with zombies that I barely notice the Coronavirus (COVID-19). I should do better, but it’s the words of everyone around me minus the lady talking about my dog that destroy me. Words Destroy More Than Bombs.

Monday, May 25, 2020

Log 329 ~Words Destroy More Than Bombs~

Hundred And Thirty-Eighth Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now, and it’s because of this rule. Funny, I don’t quote it more often, but that’s because I’m still focused on Rule One. I Will Have No Fear. For the record, I should add FEAR to my most hated words. Also, while I’m on the subject of lists, this would be in my top five reasons to be a writer. Rule Thirteen states, Power Is All That Matters. I still believe this, and Rules 19 and 84 say respectively, “LOVE Is A Great Power,” and “There’s Power In The Dollar.” In words, though, Madam Justice lies the greatest.

Last week and the start of this one SIGH, I notice how I silenced Cherry. Not only in my novel’s pages but indeed everyday life. I didn’t even need to use a ball gag, dammit. It seems my blessing and my curse. Hell, who knows I could be wrong all around as per my usual. I eat up the time talking to you and the other girls. When have I worked on either of my stories again? The only thing I write more is a litany of excuses, and yes, I’m back to blaming the Day Job. My recent humiliations stem from three words, “Home and Kids.” Now, if I wanted to kill myself, I would go right back to bed. I would let the disease, which is my words fester and finish. It’s like out of Pontypool. Did I ever tell you I’m a fan of chemical and biological warfare? Must be Greed, but anyway, words are a disease.

So is there a vaccine, what’s the cure? You inoculate with others Madam Justice. How many times have I brought up Succubus Lord by Eric Vall? I read his and other Harem Romances. Oh, to enjoy the title Sex Zombies. To read “Lolita” to even say the word, I listen to “Taboo” Fetishes with Alice. Again I think of my works. If my characters have a voice and can speak the things I can’t. The ability to create a world, a history of my design. I can build A Whole New World to hide in or better, I could become Godlike; my such grand designs. If only I said NO to Home and Kids, NO to my STUPIDITY, just NO.

Peace and Quiet. Forgive me Madam Justice but Fucking SILENCE, Words Destroy More Than Bombs.

I Will Have No Fear

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

Log 007 ~Your Business Always Comes First~

My business is here, the first week down of the new blog year but I should be thinking about the word count for my novel amongst other things, publishing one of my poetry books at some point. Your Business Always Comes First.

Monday, July 8, 2019

Log 007 ~Your Business Always Comes First~

Ninety-Second Rule Madam Justice

I AM a Millionaire right now because I mind my business. Now I mean this in three ways, what makes me my money (or should). I don’t get involved with other people. Lastly, I need to stop with all of my comparisons to others too.

I’m pretty proud of myself for last night, as I said I wasn’t going to bed until I had Five Thousand words. Madam Justice I got it done but what about tonight? I don’t want to dream about it, the Day Job and all. Speaking of which, somebody asked me did I like organizing, have you looked at my Pinterest? There’s also the fact that I have a weird system for keeping track of all of my files. Now that was close; I’m attempting to stop with all of the negativity these days. Staying up late and working hard seems to have the desired effect. Yes, more reason all my future career plans can happen in bed or some comfy warm spot. Lessons from B III now talk about someone who always has his nose somewhere so he can know.

Madam Justice that brings me to people and the truth is, I don’t care. Isn’t that saying something? Not this blog but my novels, my fiction, and poetry that’s what I want out. People today make talking synonymous with breathing. A somewhat fact I shared today with the pretty girl. One of my motivations puts a new spin on the story of Socrates and the man who wanted knowledge. Now I’ll tell you I’m not looking for love but money and a good time. Only as a practicing Dominant ha, one of the first lessons is caring for one’s submissive Madam Justice. I couldn’t help myself but keep track of her work-related injuries. Makes me a hypocrite when I said I don’t focus on other people. Again the rule says MY business comes first always.

Still, I want to know how other people did it, how many times do I mention Dennis Hof and his brothels? Jimmy Stephens and Group Five, that man knew trouble. The Corpse of Anna Fritz, whoever made that had to be considered sick. For the record, I might be ripping that off, not the story but a particular scene for my novel. Hell, that’s my business to learn how to survive everyone else’s but accurate. Your Business Always Comes First.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 232 ~How Do You Want It~

Last week I talked about “Someday” so let’s say “One Day” came, how would I be living my life; I would probably be as confused as ever, but since I’m not looking at a magic lamp, wishes get complicated. How Do I Want It

Monday, February 18, 2019

Episode 232 ~How Do You Want It~

Seventy-Second Rule Madam Justice

How To Make One Million Dollars, my first will come from writing no doubt. Wasn’t it last night that “Okay” asked me that if I were to get anything for her birthday, it would be that of submitting a book. My “big sister” asked me to send the short story, we wrote together years back.

Now Tupac asked the question “How Do You Want It.” Will Smith said something to the tune of; if you’re not making another life better, you’re wasting your time. Chris Rock when talking about love says; when you’re a man look yourself in the mirror and say fuck you. My language I know, but he added, now let’s get out there and try to make this bitch happy. Yesterday I asked how do I make myself happy, and again I keep feeling so gross about that. More often than not it’s what I can get away with and not what can I do. Of course, last night was “The Walking Dead,” and I feel like a WHISPERER. They march with the dead and what can they do; anything, that’s death.

“But you invite us to a poker game, hand us a fixed deck and then wonder why we can’t win?” ― The Tuskegee Airmen (1995)

You know Republicans claim God is one of theirs. You get what you get, and you learn how to live with or without and that’s your life, God’s will and all. If we are his children let alone if there is a God then in his image, we are all stupid. I texted Okay that mother is God in the eyes of a child and she loves her children more than anything. With that sentiment, I am my father’s son. He and I can both agree I don’t want to be stupid. An embarrassment, him in general, full of hate, a man who abuses women, or the greatest evil I know in the world. Start of this week I have looked at myself in the mirror and like I talked about stupidity, does everyone hate me? I’m being told to hate myself or do I hate this man before me?

“What easy way? There is no easy way, no matter what I do, somebody gets hurt.”

“Would you stop thinking about what everyone wants? Stop thinking about what I want, what he wants, what your parents want. What do YOU want? What do you WANT?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“What… do… you… want? Whaddaya want?” ― from The Notebook (2004)

What do I want Madam Justice in this one moment, I want to be writing my next bestseller? To be sifting through all the files of girls that want to come and work at one of my cathouses. Could I be cutting and pasting pornographic movie scenes? Why do I want this… because this is what I do Madam Justice, I write, I see the world, I know what I believe, and I want to understand. I have a son that needs a better father, friends that have faith in me, a woman waiting for me. Everything that has never known giving or was teased and never offered I’ll take.

“You want me to beg? Okay, I’ll beg. This is the only thing I know I am good at! Don’t take that away from me!” Best of the Best (1989)

So then that central question HOW? By sitting at this table working my ass off and not being afraid to say words because of anyone. Even with my son lying on my lap? On the beach with my family, in my office with beautiful women. How Do I Want It?

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 132 ~What Keeps You Willing~

Being perfectly honest I wish I wasn’t and no I’m not getting on about my name I mean getting off my ass and doing something other than running to work, searching for sex, and rushing to stop the flood of invaders. “What Keeps You Willing?”

Saturday, November 10, 2018

Episode 132 ~What Keeps You Willing~

Hey Lady Lu,
How To Make One Million Dollars, three months in, I should have a quarter of a million dollars… I spoke about mimes yesterday, and that’s one more good thing about them, you can’t hear them laughing at you. Can’t see them either considering I have been asleep most of the day and things I don’t want to see today. More things to break my No Fap streak, too late, more black dots across the kitchen floor or Braxton’s room marching, and how about the crap for my novel but the ideas keep on coming more and more.

Hell Lady Luna the only reason I got anything done today was “B III” tugging at my arm, one more thing I didn’t want to see is him hacking and coughing, that fat cat that’s looking for a fight, or whatever wound I inflicted on myself around my heart. I don’t want to see when I have to go to work tomorrow, how about what I’ll procrastinate with next, today it’s been Star Trek: Deep Space Nine and Rick Grimes’s last episode, and then there’s my dining room chair. So today’s question is what do I do it all for, I’ve said so many times before I don’t look in mirrors, I counted my money which is another bit of depression, and no I’m not suicidal… okay, I always am but closing my eyes and wasting today did work wonders.

It always comes back to FEAR but if I need to pick up F’s they would be FIRED, FATHER, and of course “The F Word” because I hear Captain America saying “Language”; still why do I get up for work, don’t like my job, hate people but I don’t want to get fired. Every Morning when I wake up as the song goes and I’m not headed off to work I see my son look at me like Papa Can You Hear Me, and I‘m nowhere near the best dad in the world and I still can’t believe I still dream of having the “Nuclear Family” to be a Father. Of course, that requires “The F Word” and no I don’t mean Fapping, and when it comes to sex, yeah I have far too much of that in my novel and far too little in reality but the promise of it… talk about loftier F’s.

Ask me why I wake up in the morning other than to walk B III, give him his meds, and pray for twenty-four hours not to fight the horde, at this rate I’m going to have to do actual real adulting and call someone. People Lady Lu, humanity, like Me Before You, A Million Little Things, Let Me In, we are supposed to live to make other people happy, and that’s not fair when we can’t have that so Lady Lu What Keeps You Willing?

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 098 ~Will To Bear Arms~

Roll up your sleeves; my hands should get dirty, last night I didn’t have an excuse considering I was naked running around a college campus or a hospital… relax I was dreaming, but I shouldn’t be doing either. “Will To Bear Arms.”

Sunday, October 7, 2018

Episode 098 ~Will To Bear Arms~

To Will:
How to make One Million Dollars, I am not a prophet, and you’re not looking like much of anything these days but to be fair, I called the bad news which never seems to end and the good news… what good news? I’m still one for dreaming though, and while it wasn’t a nightmare per se, the last dream predicted trouble at work, though I didn’t know why… because I wasn’t wearing “excessive happiness,” this time I wasn’t wearing anything *gulp* naked really?

Last week I was told to be positive and in the very same thought I was told I was dying, Monday was the last day of the glass being half-full, hell I started with such passion, the two reviews are nearly done, except for keywords, excerpts, pictures, etc. Maybe that’s what the dream was about last night, but we’ll get to that; sometimes I wonder, do you even understand what I’m trying to say, nobody else gets it, and you will have the same excuses come next Sunday. As I said so many people are losing everything, and here you are, I would tell you not to give into temptation but between Fapping, pretty girls who talk a good “game” and a difficult time reading, *sigh* read Six Impossible Things:

1. I Will Keep It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
Failed
2. I Will Be The “Father” My Dog Deserves
Failed
3. I Will Review “Ven” (V Games) Ker Dukey, K. Webster
Failed
4. I Will Review “Life Itself”
Failed
5. I Will Finish “Under His Heel.” By Adara Wolf
Failed
6. I Will Edit At Least One Chapter of “Apocalypse Rush”
Failed

One point again; now maybe the dream last night was saying that you’re taking on too much stuff, hell I didn’t want to stand so I took a bath and keeping with the bad karma, the Wi-Fi cut out when I sat; yes I said karma because of this great rage. Considering I was running around naked on a college campus/hospital maybe you need to get smarter and healthier, or you’re not dead yet because the whole damn world is beginning is starting to feel like a cemetery. It could even be the understanding that I talk too damn much sometimes; I bare or again bear too much, one way or another you will get hurt if something doesn’t change but not Six Impossible Things:

1. I Will Keep It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
2. I Will Be The “Father” My Dog Deserves
3. I Will Review “Ven” (V Games) Ker Dukey and K. Webster
4. I Will Review “Life Itself”
5. I Will Finish “Under His Heel.” By Adara Wolf
6. I Will Edit At Least One Chapter of “Apocalypse Rush”

So what should this week be about, or will you be like Moses and Ramses and call the next plague, that’s why you’ve been on Amazon, Best Buy and Walmart sites; you say you care about being a writer and what are you doing? This morning you saw what matters and don’t say it because you don’t want to jinx yourself but do you have what it takes, to survive this week, the rage is still there but your hands, your arms, have a higher destiny, Will To Bear Arms.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 093 ~Love To Work Will~

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.

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Episode 093 ~Love To Work Will~

Dear Future Wife,
How to make One Million Dollars, when what we have is priceless but how about everything else I claim to “love” after you and the kids; I have always believed that such a word is used far too often for the wrong reason. Much like “work” I do that because I love Detroit Become Human and a huge list of games, I “toil” as I “adore” my ever increasing library, I “labor” and don’t ask me how it happened, upper-middle-class family; I want all those name brands.

When I write, however, there are moments and don’t get me wrong I love writing but sometimes, it’s damn hard, but for a brief time I’ll be typing away, and I feel, blessed though I don’t like that word. It’s how I love you though, I worry all the time, this week especially I see how quickly a life can get wrecked, am I still thinking about “Life Itself,” “This Is Us,” or “A Million Little Things”; you know it, but real life isn’t taking any breaks. That’s what my first born, the other kids, and you keep telling me, that I need to take a break, and I don’t ever want to become Peter Banning, Jackson Curtis, or Lord heavens above my father, I’m only Human after all love.

That’s why I say I love you like my words, I want to spend every single day with you, I want to study every part of you, curves, lines, my breaths, my heartbeats all in service to you but that’s the problem. You’re here; you’re mine, why can’t I touch you now or tell you now; when I wake up in the morning, I repeat this one quote, “you did not wake up to be mediocre,” because you deserve better, I deserve to be so much more of a man. Now know this I will choose you and ALL my kids over everything, I love you more than anything else in this existence and maybe witnessing horror and tragedy from all sides is scaring me to death, what a way to start off October right?

I tend to make everything Complicated I know, but I choose to write a sin and not a tragedy and the fact that you’re hurting from my absence… love is all you need they say, but I don’t love my day job, so I write, I don’t adore being a comparison to my father, so I read the children stories (not my stories), and I don’t want to be away from you, so I create. No, I won’t offer you promises of tomorrow that one day there will be time for us because you already have this with Everything I Do you’re the one that makes me want to be better than I am, and when you love what you do, that’s us Here And Now, Love To Work Will.

“You always had tunnel vision.
You could just block everything out
and write.
You blocked us out.”

“Do you love him?”

“I love him enough.”
2012 (2009) Kate and Jackson

I Will Have No Fear