Is it just me or has this room quieted somewhat without all the frustrated breaths, the echoes of the keys dying, earlier since I’m not working all night, my characters falling silent with their stories told? The Horror, Horniness, Helplessness
Friday, December 1, 2017
Lesson 153 ~The Horror, Horniness, Helplessness~
Hey Lady Sophia,
No Fear, until next month but even now I’m sort of at that part in the movie when, I’m in the woods lost, the car won’t start, the realization that the monster is coming. First I should off by saying and not that I’ve been crowing about it or anything but I’m a NaNoWriMo winner, finished on the 29th, 50,000 words of complete and utter… well, you know what I want to say, ignorance, garbage, idiocy, etc.
What the holy hell was I thinking, and now that it’s over now I’m just imagining what I’m supposed to be feeling now and again my creativity is failing me. In a way it sort of parallel’s my book, the guy is lost somewhere in the bowels of Hell, but unlike me he at least has somebody coming after him, a family he has never seen, but they are there. When I’m not obsessing over that, it’s the fact that I may never catch up with the life I upped and abandoned, not that it was truly doing me any favors honestly but it’s mine.
Mine just like this story one big pile of shit, and if anything, I need to be gearing up for January, but I just want to fall, fuck, or fear every single thing. Excuse my Sesame Street antics; I’m just trying to stay awake or keep from breaking down, both are viable options. At least I’m not in bed at the moment, and I would say that’s a miracle but how does one define a miracle. Maybe the question is how does one define the impossible because last week didn’t I think being here, surviving, winning, completing, NaNoWriMo, was beyond me, it’s all about me.
That’s it isn’t it, nobody else cares, and this story is as doomed as that story about turkeys taking over the world or for “For Love of Truth,” what about “Some Assembly Required” 120,000 words and 50,000 words is what I considered a challenge? Is that it, why I can’t get excited about what I’ve done now, and I just being me, perhaps I truly fear the light, am I trying to get some actual philosophical basis to my crappy sexual romp, that can’t be.
I could have just needed a new project like Andy Dufresne, but sometimes it’s the little dog at my feet. I keep telling him to wait for me, and I’ll give us both a real life, a real home but all I have to offer is writing and when I look at my latest work *sigh* The Horror, Horniness, Helplessness.
I Will Have No Fear