Episode 166 ~Wills I Never Read~

I haven’t taken time to read lately, maybe because the truth absorbs me rather than fiction, let’s be real most words nowadays… hell, I’m creative, and others are liars and my look what time it is. “Wills I Never Read” but met hmm

Friday, December 14, 2018

Episode 166 ~Wills I Never Read~

Hey Lady Sophia,
How To Make One Million Dollars is something I never read about, seriously My Lady if you want to know where such a wish came from, there was a song “If I Had A $1,000,000” one of my Motivations “What If” and today it was the time on my schedule, but wait.

I never read the receipts when I was a child, I honestly don’t remember reading about Santa Claus but both I can put on my parents; a blessing or a curse but I should be grateful, I AM, yes I AM. Until there was Sticker Shock and if I knew then Lady Sophia how much it costs to live… hell, I never read those boxes of sleeping pills or NyQuil, I never understood the fine print of The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline, been there before.

Speaking of things that will get me into Hell, there wasn’t a time in school that I read about sex, I only saw a few graphic pictures, I heard words like Rape, Sin, No Means No, the thoughts in my head echoed, pervert, stalker, criminal, evil, still do sometimes. It was when I started reading when I began educating myself honestly on BDSM, SSC, RACK, Ravishment; when I learned about Hentai, Erotica, my company Second Circle Creations, when I decided to take back my name, which I still hate looking at from time to time.

Damn the numbers though, more like fuck the numbers (Captain America says “Language”) today is Friday, not Thursday and that’s part of the reason I’m irritated, irate, irrational, damn near having an anxiety attack at 6:00 in the morning. I promised myself I would get up at 4:00 “Waking Up at 4:00 AM Every Day Will Change Your Life” and at 1:00 this afternoon I have to call into the day job and if it’s not good news at 3:00 bring on the panic attack.

You see Lady Sophia these are the men I never read about, but they all exist; I complained to a math tutor that if only math was like reading and I can’t read IBC Root Beer labels without thinking about lying to my “father” about my math homework and getting smacked. I can’t read my son’s face but “B III” tells me it’s time to get up for Walkies, I can’t read the sun in the sky, and nowhere is it written to learn why I get up at all… LOVE, for him, for myself, for some girl I’m not sure may live. I’ll never read about when I may gain a pardon from the mortal coil, my bank account will never speak of freedom, my soul shall never write about happiness, but someday he’ll be here; only one more of
Wills I Never Read.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 159 ~When’s Your Holiday Will~

If I could take back everything I’ve said to women, that includes my first cry because I’ve been offending them ever since, how about when Santa lost his way here, and if I ever wake up rested and happy, shocker? “When’s Your Holiday Will?”

Friday, December 7, 2018

Episode 159 ~When’s Your Holiday Will~

Hey Lady Sophia,
How To Make One Million Dollars, don’t live in infamy, it doesn’t help you win wars, (Japan), money and women are questionable (Marquis de Sade), and even if you’re proven right, “what’s next” is far stranger than “The End” right (Joseph Seed)? So am I saying become President, what was that about infamy, how about becoming a pornstar, working for FOX News, or even *gasp* a writer, you can always make money off some holiday spirit right?

Infamy, a day that will live as such, how many of the brave died this day so many years ago; I know you’re asking why do I even bring up something like Pearl Harbor, it’s not like I’m doing anyone a service but one more reason I’m a writer, I don’t want to forget. I’m not a great man, a good one, hell sometimes I judge if I’m even alright, especially when it comes to writing but for this moment in time, hell anytime I find myself sitting here, talking to you, any of the girls, the man in the mirror, writing a novel or poem I’m free. Isn’t that worth celebrating, every day I make a choice but here’s the thing and I’ve said this before, things we don’t learn from history we’re doomed to repeat; is that why I’m always writing about the end, something like Kylo Ren:

“The Empire, your parents, the Resistance, the Sith, the Jedi… let the past die. Kill it, if you have to. That’s the only way to become what you are meant to be.” The Last Jedi

You know I don’t celebrate holidays… my “birthday” in itself made me someone I didn’t want to be; alive, talk about a day I would erase, and then there are the days I can’t, the 5th of November, July 2nd, whenever the Harmonic War began. Seems almost tradition that the worse days of my life always revolve around a girl, even now my work schedule is done by one, I have several women who text me (not that I’m mad about that). I can’t remember when I did my first novel which wasn’t for NaNoWriMo; when’s the last time I got a full night’s sleep, and again with the women when was my last one or first one, long time.

When you can’t remember the day you lost happiness, would you recognize it, hell I remember the last time I had ah, a “release” and every day I resist is a victory not that I can celebrate this week, already failed #1. Even talking to Dear Future Wife my thoughts focus more on the present than the future but you want to know when I’ll party; September 1st when I have my first million, and hopefully I won’t be lying here on December 7th asking again, When’s Your Holiday Will?

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 152 ~Certified Wrimo, Winner, Will~

NaNoWriMo ends today but I won yesterday so yay me I suppose but what do I do tonight, get to bed early and cherish the knowledge I don’t have the day job in the morning… funny. Certified Wrimo, Winner, Will, and more, not to brag

Friday, November 30, 2018

Episode 152 ~Certified Wrimo, Winner, Will~

Hey Lady Sophia,
How To Make One Million Dollars, well publishing a book might help but I don’t know if “Indiana Gone’s” faith is strong enough and I know for sure that mine isn’t counting this is my second November NaNoWriMo and I did two camps this year. As it has been with every novel that I have set to paper I am left with the same question, a somewhat sane one and that is, what do I do now; tonight, I’m feeling pretty lazy.

Nothing to do but talk to you and you ask me do I feel reluctant, resistant, or even ready and as much as I love writing… I must right, I must write, how does one prepare themselves to bare their soul, to say bleed, to purge? I’m not one to throw my soul into the ether; I’m not a woman (yeah that’s sexist right), I’m not a psycho, police office, private, or president, too much media nowadays am I right. What I am with every day is exhausted sadly; which is more damaging Lady Sophia, doing what you hate or doing what you love barley because you don’t have anything left, with my Motivations “Purpose.”

This isn’t over Lady Sophia, even now the ideas continue to flow, “B III” is going to be the business partner in my novel and also a WEREWOLF for example, I think the four parts split will be between the classes of “Escorts” The Songstress Class, The Dead Heads, and The Elysium Class. I will also have dog sayings such as “And They Call It Puppy Love,” “Dog Eat Dog,” “Raining Cats And Dogs” And “Every Dog Has It’s Day” when did a story about a brothel become about my four-legged son, I’d never abandon him for any woman no doubt. The entire third act will be about the past which means the whole tale will be getting bigger, ha tail, heart disease and in the words of Warm Bodies:

Maybe that’s it; while I can tell you everything that I want, once I get everything written it doesn’t even matter, my confession, my confections, and like “Cherry,” I hate making “corrections” or editing, but I also understand the purpose of it. It won’t be tonight, probably not tomorrow, I’m going to waste so much time but for now, can I not bask in the thought that I am now a Certified Wrimo, Winner, Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 145 ~Will Read The Directions~

Do you honestly believe I’m going to follow the rules for 5000 words today, hell if I did my novel would be completed this weekend but sleeping my life away is quite simple, I know the way to my pillow? “Will Read The Directions.”

Friday, November 23, 2018

Episode 145 ~Will Read The Directions~

Hey Lady Sophia,
How To Make One Million Dollars, for example, I still can’t find those but if it involves writing every day well… Here I Am; it’s one thirty in the morning and while my motivations talk about not talking about work, let your success make the noise again I’m here. Emails about making it to 40,000 words, my alarm clocks telling me I should have been in bed hours ago and ready to go off about work, and of course, however, I choose to procrastinate at this time.

How many energy shots is it safe to take, how long are turkey and ham good for maybe? Is there a maximum number of emails some people can have ever? How much is a business allowed? I’m looking at you Office Depot. If my life was in a grocery store and I had to read the directions on how my goose gets cooked, believe me when I say, I would put it back down; I know you were expecting a song like Indiana Gone right, so I’m Gonna Make It. I can’t say I miss people telling me what to do… yeah when did it ever end, day job and all but nobody told me how to survive yesterday and somehow it got done, but “men” are supposed to know right, even now I hate looking to others which shouldn’t surprise me, I still hate looking in the mirror because I don’t recognize my reflection.

The things I know how to do are things that I hate and the things that I love hell Lady Sophia I have no idea, take “B III” for example; every week don’t I fail at being the father I should be, I take him for walks, change his pad, give him his meds on time. Nobody teaches you how to be a dad, and don’t get me started on my “Father” I don’t have that money or patience, plus despite my novel I respect women, and I don’t want my kids to be afraid. The thing is I am terrified all the time because that’s one more set of directions they leave out; so many things I need to write but it all gets to be a bit much and even if I wrote it all down tonight would I read it in the morning?

We both know the answer to such things right, four hundred words a day, 365 days in a year, 120,000 words. That’s a novel unless we were playing by NaNoWriMo rules and that keeps me going I know. I’m also good at reading bills but not who’s on my money not that it matters but shouldn’t it all, hell look at Trump, and the only things he “learns” is bad press but when the phrase people use is “WTF is he doing” I think I better find some damn instructions for life. Now if you hand me the Bible I swear I’m going Fahrenheit 451; Will Read The Directions.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 138 ~To Will Wash History~

History is at the mercy of the victor’s whims, but I always like to believe that it’s the wheelhouse survivors, then again Hitler’s book was a best seller, and most of the erotica I read is from white women, but here I am. “To Will Wash History”

Friday, November 16, 2018

Episode 138 ~To Will Wash History~

Hey Lady Sophia,
How To Make One Million Dollars, but it wouldn’t matter if I did anyway as no amount of money can cover up the truth but the thing is, that enough of it does make it easier to live with some way. Right now I’m doing what I do for free so no wonder it’s so damn difficult to keep going over it, hell if people can’t get past the title, that has changed, but still, there’s Facebook.

Of course, I could always delete it but what kind of man would I be because there still is that belief that one of these days I’ll be bragging to these people and I want evidence that even though I screwed up plenty, here I am writing my victory speech, rather than my concession. I’ve said before that I write so much attempting to outrun certain words, ideas, and names but I can never control all of it; hasn’t it been a while since I thought of the “Fly Girl” better left to the past. The thing is I wish I could forget today’s writing for Pay Two Plague, how about erasing the schedule at work, and always the words I speak, but there is an Echo for one reason or another in my head… yeah, Where Is My Mind?

If anything My Lady, do you know how many times I’ve written “My Master” but that’s another story literally, my brain would be about as useless as the backspace and delete keys and 27,500 words I don’t care to explain. Speaking of words, I don’t need *ahem* Raid: Ant Baits, when I’m not busy writing I’m putting down ant invasions and those pieces of sh*t, both bug and weapon are not worth anything. For tonight it’s looking like I don’t have to tell you in horror stories but Then The Morning Comes, I’m going for five thousand words, NaNoWriMo is a word I have come to respect and admire, but my words don’t do it justice to be completely honest.

How many words will it take to drown out the past, how many to make the present worth living and how many to rewrite the future because what I know and even what I don’t is not worth reading. It’s like 1984 with everyone else’s words I wonder of my existence. Do I honestly want to, this weekend the day job will see since I’m not going in and I don’t want to with Black Friday coming, but there’s no way To Will Wash History?

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 131 ~Your Willie Don’t Mime~

The pretend man is at it again, well that was until I was cradling “B III,” fighting an ant caravan or wondering what the hell am I becoming while writing other than a terrible writer… too late, but I am a clown. Your Willie Don’t Mine

Friday, November 9, 2018

Episode 131 ~Your Willie Don’t Mime~

Hey Lady Sophia,
How To Make One Million Dollars, you have to work every day, and today I make no excuses although I always have a million of those, another ant invasion, “B III” having to visit the vet because of his heart, and here I feel as though I took a hit in mine. Literally Lady Sophia my chest hurts right there, could be breathing in that bug spray, my exhaustion, I nearly threw up last night because I was so out of it, still am, and maybe that’s why I didn’t want to talk to you, the universe, and what’s that they say of dead men my friend…

This whole week I’ve felt like a “MIME” in everything I do, at work being the hard-working employee and still feeling so guilty when somebody writes down I’m not showing up. As a writer, talk about being an epic failure, on the one hand, shouldn’t I feel proud, I can turn off everything in this life and focus only to fall into the black of words, TV screens, or pools of ants, I swear I have no idea where any of it is coming from. What about what I can see, I’ve been fucking up as a father forever and a day and all it took was one bad night and it surely was a million times worse for my kid but sleeping in my bed, his food, going for walks, that fear Lady Sophia seeing him struggle to live.

Lady Sophia that silence would kill me; if I couldn’t write anymore and if I lost everything trying to work so hard to remain nothing more than an “UNPERSON” I don’t feel as though I exist, that I should, or that I even want to. Indiana Gone and I were talking about this, I always get called into work but if I don’t show up then so what, it doesn’t matter the day continues and if they call me terrible or people are indifferent towards me. On the other side, I’m the entertainment, I’ve said that before, the inspiration of jokes, the example of how not to do something, the monster makes the damsel relevant.

Now that is something I don’t mind or mime if you were to look up my internet history, in this world, there are never enough warning labels are there, and again last night I was so wrecked, I was like everybody else, close your eyes and ignore everything. If you can’t see a mime though, does he exist, one more reason I’m a writer, I can pretend to write, or I can do it; with desire, Your Willie Don’t Mime.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 124 ~By One Man’s Will~

If not looking so many enemies in the face, I’m busy creating them or anything for that matter to populate my new fictional word which will probably never see the light of day but who knows. “By One Man’s Will”

Friday, November 2, 2018

Episode 124 ~By One Man’s Will~

Hey Lady Sophia,
How To Make One Million Dollars, seriously man created God, man destroys the Earth and any man that’s able to gain dominion over women well; here we go again with “dignity and respect,” but my actual point is, it shouldn’t be difficult to make a million. The second day of NaNoWriMo and I’m still trying to create a world, and please excuse me for picking your brain about this, it has been a long day, and I owe over a thousand words before I get some sleep.

“You cannot have a protagonist without desire; it doesn’t make any sense, any fucking sense.”

My plot at the moment is rather simplistic; I’m always a fan of harems, brothels, ranches, whatever name people give them these days and in my story (yet to be titled) the main protagonist owns one but not staffed by ordinary women. Now you know I have always been a fan of “Thirteen Women” so I think I will need that many monster types of women or somewhat supernatural qualities; Angels, Banshees, The Dead, Lilith, Nymphs, Possessions, Scream Queens, Sirens, Succubi, Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, and Zombies. The protagonist will also tell the story, but I think I need four more characters to balance it out, with my “love” for words, why is it I’m always worried about doing the math, five speakers four chapters each.

Twenty Chapters total with Two Thousand, Five Hundred and of course, it will get bigger, and here I haven’t even finished editing “Apocalypse Rush,” and the sad thing is I’m forgetting all of my stories and the idea of rereading them… Anyway, I think one of my characters will be a gravedigger, another one a pretty doctor, and I always need a love interest and of course the antagonist. A question I’m asking myself is always, what’s my motivation and none of my characters seem to have that though I have already completed the first chapter and still have more words to go but what about tomorrow, not like I have a deadline or the day job to contend with; probably my general laziness streak.

Seriously my biggest enemy right now is, well they say all you have to do is bleed, but most of my stories require other bodily fluids; a man has to get inspiration from somewhere and so far, that’s “Anja Juliette Laval.” Right now my goal should be to finish this story before the 30th or even better the 20th, strangely enough, I was never an overachiever in school which explains a lot; hiding in the wrong books and now writing them By One Man’s Will.

I Will Have No Fear

Episode 117 ~Scared, Will You Say~

I’m not your boss, I’m not your boss, not anymore if ever, in the bedroom I have far more control, but in life, well there’s fear and don’t I talk about it often enough, and being so close to Halloween not that it matters. “Scared, Will You Say”

Friday, October 26, 2018

Episode 117 ~Scared, Will You Say~

Hey Lady Sophia,
How To Make One Million Dollars, to tell you the truth a million doesn’t make you a BOSS; it does put you in a good position compared to most Americans though, like something sounding like “Fiddler On The Roof,” If I Were A Rich Man. I don’t mean to sound so political, I mean, what do I know right, that’s what I was saying at work, that I’m nobody’s boss, but a couple of people were looking to me for what… leadership, last time that happened I met DUMB, DUMBER, and DUMBEST.

“And it won’t make one bit of difference if I answer right or wrong.
When you’re rich, they think you really know!” – If I Were A Rich Man, Topol

I’m never scared to write about my more “DOMINANT” persona when it comes to the bedroom; as I was telling a friend, being in charge is a lot different when you can tie a person up and do all manner of “unspeakable” things. Even in my own stories sadly I show caution and then I still idolize someone like Le Marquis De Sade but he did go to jail and even he backtracked when it came to his novels. That’s going to be a reason for writing if I ever hear one, yeah I write because you have to think at least a second longer before letting anything burst out of your face I believe.

How about me singing, I won’t lie Ha, Ha anyway I’ve been thinking about that R. Kelly song I Wish, and I’m going to get the lyrics wrong, but I like those lines that go:

“And all I ever wanted is to be a better man
And I try to keep it real with my homies man
Want me to save the world I don’t understand
How did I become the leader of a billion men?”
R. Kelly, I Wish

The second reason I’m writing is, I believe there are other people out there like me, hell there are people a million times worse, and maybe this is my idea on “trying” to find them, but honestly, that scares me. How about this Lady Sophia, I was talking to “Okay” about The Fever Series by Karen Marie Moning and when I write it’s like I’m creating the “Sinsar Dubh” my dark magic attempting to get it out of me which should scare everyone, rape, murder, apocalypse and so much worse.

Better to keep it fiction right before I go off writing some BDSM contract, comparing a girl to a Brazzers or Reality Kings model, and don’t get me started on the words, more like the numbers on money, I once offered a woman three hundred for, yeah, more an Inspector Echo conversation. Good thing NaNoWriMo is coming up but how did I spend most of this day besides not reading the word “manager” under my name. I slept because I was afraid to write today, figured I’d sound like something out of “The Vault Girls,” “Virgin Roster” or my story “Love The Way You Run,” I put those two MILFS and that English Tart in it. I swear the things men come up with, my face is the horror, but my mind is apocalyptic; where is the terror, the man that is no longer writing of love and happiness perhaps *sigh* Scared, Will You Say.

I Will Have No Fear

Love The Way You Run

It’s a disease this thing called love I once heard, but I think I’m an asymptomatic carrier when you get right down to it, or as the song goes, Love Don’t Love Me but I haven’t written any “sweet” poetry lately, or short stories. Love The Way You Run

My heart beats faster and faster, as though it can escape me, soon I almost mutter aloud and yet she sees, one of the many and if she thinks I can turn around and face the rest of them as her voice breaks through. “How about today, Mr. Berton” Ms. Everard tutted, how she surely must have gone into the wrong profession, but who better to teach a man about life and death but a woman but this was Math.

How long have I been staring at her, could I count the breaths that I missed and apparently I must be missing a brain, I must be the Tin Man, minus the ax as well… one more reason I couldn’t turn around. Her eyes as brown as the dirt I wanted to bury myself under, was I not one more dead man and yet it’s dead things that make others grow, as hard as the board I haven’t touched in ages, please let me just hack away and build a coffin. Yeah but my heart won’t allow it, or that’s what I keep telling myself, fighting to stay alive though I was already in Hell, though nobody would know it with my complexion but hers?

The dead can be monsters, lucky for her, though I could see the rivers of red run along her tanned cheeks, the small scars healing as though she met a beast long before me, though her soft pink lips called me anything but her worst nightmare. “Mr. Berton” she cried as she walked over to me, her black top barely containing her but it could be worst, if it were her heart I was after, and then men chase skirts, the tigress’s one she was wearing, no I would instead trace the black heart tattoo along her cheek or the designs along her wrist. Surely she must be crazy to approach me, killing me like this or bringing me back to life, I would choose the former rather than face the class once again in this state, I just couldn’t.

Saved by the bell, as the class began to leave, my backpack not big enough to hold me, no EMT’s or coroner’s to pronounce what I already knew, was it wrong for me to even wish for a cop, death might come that much quicker. No, I wouldn’t need that, as Ms. Everard, cautioned “see you tomorrow,” now honestly I am no track star, but I am surely going to give it a chance as I ran out of there as fast as my feet cared to carry me now.

If I didn’t see her, her, or even her, why was I still going to school if my only job prospect was looking at the ground, knowing the moment I looked up, I would be knocked off of my feet, better to find the whole now, get it over with.

Better a cabin in the woods than being eaten alive, a careless whisper, a kiss, the scent of perfume, there was no fighting this, I wanted to believe, as I scurried along, call me a coward, or worse one of the infected. Rage, at them, at myself, hell that’s what I felt, but it’s nature, even the animals that have no concept of it, knew it, and here I thought people were supposed to prefer the privacy of their own homes. That’s where I was headed, maybe I could attribute my sickness to anything but the butterflies in my stomach, though I doubted even Noah had the problems I was feeling running through my veins.

No, they will not make a monster out of me, idle hands being the devil’s playthings and all but I didn’t have anyone to call, no money to spend, and while violence was far more accepted, it could never be condoned. If I could be like the cool kids, I could probably get a drink somewhere, maybe I could smoke something, it might even make me that much braver and live or die, it wouldn’t matter in the end perhaps.
Some idiot laughing on the ground and the pretty girls’ laughter brings him back to life, and he’ll only fall down again, for her I suppose or she for him, why don’t I find more joy in my immunity to all of this? Sickness is never a good thing, and that’s what the world would make of me as I ran that much faster, I must look like a lunatic and if only they knew they would have me committed by sundown. Why couldn’t this all exist in the dark, that’s where the monsters were supposed to come out and play, but where was I headed now, there were no bright lights where I was going if I kept my computer off of my obsession.

I would make myself a sacrifice for the good of the world, the sole survivor but to what end, and her’s, had God chosen to curse me so, as I stared and in the next second wondered who put that pole there as I crashed.

Light as a feather but only a board, was written on one of the books she carried but she did not stop, perhaps I was already a ghost, and none of them could see me, even if she was attuned with the spirit world as her library would suggest. It would make sense the way I was haunting her, some might say stalking, others would make me out to be a creep, nobody ever saw me until far too late.

Not good enough for Heaven and not bad enough for Hell and yet I was surrounded by angels and the devils that would have them, if but a word from me, after all, a ghost still needed a place to haunt some nights. It would explain a lot, I didn’t eat much, nobody ever heard a word I said, well at not women and some women loved to pretend that I would jump out at them when they least expected, it’s like being an alien only that beast would be my heart crawling its way out of my chest. Just it wouldn’t be today if I could make it back to my haunting ground without any more bruises or scars.

At least that’s how the guys saw me, maybe I was surrounded by ghosts or angels, and every guy saw me as a necromancer, I was paid to bring girls to life, and those men got to “love” them, I could be the grim reaper. Only it was grim I would ever see that girl again, her burgundy hair, those greenish-brown eyes, her snow-white skin, clad in black top similar to my teacher’s and blue jeans that would have to be peeled off of her slowly. Much like my dark skin if I ever got the chance, she was probably looking into the tarot now, coming up with a million reasons why we couldn’t be together in some way maybe.

I could help her out with that, but I will be damned if I was chasing after such a beauty like the beast I could not choose to be for the life of me, or for the life of her, and that was one million and one if she could hear me. We didn’t belong together because I was already dead or would be I imagined all the more as I saw my reflection in a puddle, yes I decide what I was going to be or was, a zombie.

Some zombies were only interested in brains, others were connoisseurs of the flesh, and while I could admit there was something about brunettes, I was not picky from wanting a dark-haired single mother, to a girl interested in the next realm. Still lacking my brain, why else would I feast on or find any thought I had elsewhere and not on the tip of my tongue, I must be starving.

Werewolves would lock themselves in cages, vampires had one coffin, but what could hold a zombie, the cure would be a million times worse than the virus, the ground may not change on the path, but these people were walking obituaries. Feasting upon each other time and again, some for their whole lives, and they pitied me… maybe they were right, but I accepted what I was a long time ago, and how dare I take somebody with me, zombies have mobs, as for me… I wanted to tear her apart, but I wouldn’t turn around and follow my black magic woman, I wouldn’t taste those juicy pink lips, bite or even nibble upon her.

Too many people had taken bites from my brain already, no wonder I couldn’t remember what it was to be like them or at the very least what I pretended to be because what I was could not be allowed anywhere. Let the disease run rampant all over the globe, I would run, I would hide, better than being one of them, no never, I kept telling myself, until I turned blue in the face, but I was so close to the house now. A zombie that would not bite, because no the world did not need more of me running around and I’m sure there were enough women that wanted to blow my head off for a few reasons.

What kind of monster thinks that; not a zombie that’s for sure they fear nothing, most monsters don’t, but there is something that is full of fear as I ran faster and I saw her standing there waiting to be let in. Have I had it all wrong, as I was clad in my black hoodie with matching jeans and boots, staring at the brunette vixen, cleaning supplies in hand, not that it would be enough; am I a psycho?

I’m only a man, and there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide now, but she was just the maid, not that I would think of her in such simplistic terms, not with a body to die for, the thought kept replaying in my mind. My would-be prey who was making sure to clean all the evidence of her arrival, she would be all that was left for me, the only picture taken in her soft brown eyes, a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, and the matching underwear I bought her for Christmas once.

A psycho was always prepared, only there were no axes, no playroom, not a respectable torture device to be had, gloves, machete, or a chainsaw, and they say that humans are made in the image of God. While I still wasn’t a believer in such the things I wanted were less than holy without a doubt and would damn me for all eternity, well damned if I do or damned if I don’t, so why was I the one backing away looking to get out. She was only a girl, but any would-be man would tell you that can be the scariest thing in the universe easily; witch, siren, succubus, and yet somehow here she was on her knees keeping me at bay easily enough.

“Is there anything else I can do?” Kaelyn asked, probably reading my darkest intentions as she hurried towards the door, but my hands were shaking as I reached out to hand her the money and she was on her way, safe and sound. As I was lying on my bed, throw in alone, and all would be well except for the knock on my door, Kaelyn forgetting something I wanted to believe but there was nothing there and everything, it was in the air. My next question should have been how did all these ladies get in my house and taking hold of me, but I didn’t need to ask who they were, Aphrodite runs deep these days; if anything I should be flattered but terrified would have to do.

“Who do you think you are,” Cupid asked me, already there was an arrow pointing straight at my heart, as the women held me down and telling them I was a Titan might be the wrong answer as I was surrounded by these gods and goddesses of love. “Now you take the time to find me” I grunted, as they moved forward hungrily, staring at everything that womankind chose to ignore forever and a day.

“Our worst nightmare” Eros chuckled, putting two fingers to my forehead and suddenly I was filled with visions, broken hearts as far as my eyes could see, I indeed was one to be despised so why bother to apologize. On the other hand, they owed me that much and a lot more but what made me think they were interested in me as a person, not when I saw those fangs and claws come out.

Finally, my hands were traveling to the loveliest of places, of course, they were ripped from my wrists, with all sympathies to the Devil, no more worries for any of these gods jobs at this point as I found my voice. I screamed as I felt their jaws, their claws tearing me apart piece by piece, ripping into me, my final love letter and it was being written in blood, or is this why they wanted me all along. Even now I couldn’t help but find the beauty in even this or at least one part of me continued to believe so despite being made into a buffet for over a dozen or so gods of old, that didn’t understand that love has now changed.

I could have even been one of them I sighed or was that my last breath as my heart was finally stolen and Aphrodite smacked her lips holding it in her hands announcing then “I Love The Way You Run.”

Episode 111 ~One Way Will Work~

Let’s give the boy a hand as the song goes, failed to get fired, to be completely lazy though if I heard the voice on the PA right but how often am I right, after all, I work retail, and that’s not working for me. One Way Will Work, such is hope

Saturday, October 20, 2018

Episode 111 ~One Way Will Work~

Hey Lady Lu,
How To Make One Million Dollars, last week I talked about going to work and how scared I was of losing my job and is it sad that nothing has changed about that; yes I am grateful, but the thing about any of the employment I’ve held is that I’ve wanted to go. Writing has its good days, and off days, but with the day job there is mind-numbing terror every day, hateful, half-sick, hiding but never hopeful, hell I have PCH for that, and I screwed that up too; my mailing will never make it before the deadline to be sure.

The thing is, what I will do for writing, start a blog, chug a 5-Hour Energy, drive to the library, the money I have spent wasting my time but that makes me feel better than the day job ever has. Hell take today as an example, I researched where to buy stamps so I can mail that stupid PCH letter that won’t make it because that gives me a hope that the rest of this week has never brought me. I know you must be asking yourself Lady Lu why I’m ragging on the day job so much considering, some announcement I’m not even sure I heard succinctly that scared me enough to think I’m losing my job, that does nothing.

“I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” Thomas A. Edison

That is how I feel at work Luna; seven years I’m not sure how many days but not one of them has brought me hope, happiness, or hunger, indeed I’m more likely to puke my brains out and don’t get me started on the bathroom situation again. So like my friend “Okay” suggest, write the book, get published, do the work, one of my motivations talks about how to get rid of fear, but how does one stop Sloth, today still sets the perfect example because how much have I gotten done. One book review written up, picking up stamps, and now talking to you, and once again I believe there is a chance of winning the big sweepstakes; the deadline is the 22nd and tomorrow’s Sunday, so there’s that.

Writing should be my only plan, but I can’t break free, at least not intentionally, a fight, a feeling, getting fired and that brings up a random writing concept… what’s with me and “Alliteration” these days, it’s quite fun with titling my Pinterest “Spank Bank” as Cherry calls it but how many times have I used this writing trope today? Thousands of words that haven’t worked but how do I know, I know retail isn’t but with so much Lady Lu, do I still believe, One Way Will Work?

I Will Have No Fear