|Thursday, February 8th, 2001|
|3:46 pm|| |
Just Starting this
Well I had just got an account on here and offically been up close to 24 hours straight. I have to go see my mental health therapist tomorrow, at times it is a fucking pain in the ass but it is something that I have to do to remain mentally stable. This one would be for those who think my horror writings are way over their head, but they would not understand that this is the way I am. Not even my long time best friend understands that I am a horror writer and what I do is what I am.
I had just got done updating writings from the grave -- that one is a real bitch to get moved over because I had so much put into it almost four years of updating, and now it is done. I got a little bored from some down time so I got on instant messenger -- funny little invention because I had came across a person that I have not seen since 1994, or when I was taking a college class. It was a long time but I thought I would talk with him for a while -- even though this was one of the people who had made fun of my ass as a kid.
Well I was the skinny nerd back then and that who he still remembers -- he doesn't know of this this part of me that scares the living fuck out of people when they read my writing. He doesn't know what to expect with my work but the person he runs with is a really good friend of mine since 1997. He and his lady took me down to Bloomington, Illinois, which was cool -- something that I hadn't done for a long time. I might do that more since I am on disability but too many medical bills -- damn ingrown toenail acted up while I was staying in Canada; bashed into it while I was rockclimbing.
Other that minor setback -- expensive one though, still have no idea what it is in American funds. Funny thing about the Canadian cash -- their broke when they come to the states and when we go to Canada, we're shitting dollars and pissing coins, but when it comes to the toonies and loonies -- those would hurt if they were pissed out. (This a rare thing for me -- making someone laugh, usually I am scaring the fuck out of them with my horror writings or my artwork.)
Just spoke with the woman who is interested in me from Florida. She is talking of coming up to see me in Chicago before she goes to Canada. I told her that if she is not used to the cold climate -- come to Chicago first because our winters are brutal, but the past week Seattle been getting our winters and we've been getting their climate. (I can see them going out looking at the first snow -- but I hear them from Chicago bitching about it.)
She had never seen a subzero climate, and they wonder why someone from the Great Lake States have such a twisted sense of humor. It is because of the mother fucking long winters -- the long winters equal to sick jokes and dark writings. I say it like this because I had just finished writing a new short story -- the idea came about from a nightmare I had when I was camping under the open sky in Sudbury, Ontario. I called the story Ontario. This one turned out to be four pages in length -- two all night writing sessions when I was without a mouse to use.
The navagational mouse had gone to hell about a day after I had moved everyting from go network to crosswinds. It took me 50 hours to get everything downloaded from there. After the relatives telling me that I have been on the computer too long -- putting up with their yelling is worth it because all that work is done. Speaking of relatives, (omitted to protect the innocent).
I was printing up some of the pictures that I had taken from my backpacking trip to Ontario; trying to decide on a picture to mount and frame up to give (omit) for (omit) birthday. I promised her and the woman interested in me some of my photography -- A**** wants the one that is on the second page on the website. I had been checking my email to see if I got anything from her or from my fourth cousin who is getting tickets to see Pantera for me since I am no where near a ticketmaster. On top of that I am hoping to be at the twilight tales open mic which is held in the city. This is a place where horror writers can read some of their short work. Something that I hadn't done in a long time -- not since I was staying with my (omit)s when they still lived in Illinois. I had done my first reading in Des Plaines, Illinois, at a coffeehouse a friend I worked with at Remcor hosted from his church then the next two were my bigger ones. Grounds for Thought in Downers Grove, and the Chocolate Moon in Elmhurst, Illinois.
I was invited to this back on December 4th, but I had to be on a flight at 8:45 AM to Toronto, Ontario, from Chicago, Illinois, where I had to take a small plane into Sudbury. Custums can be a real fuck to deal with because some like to smuggle in carton of Newports -- something that I wish I had when I was there. A goddamn menthol smoke or a mini cigar.
Here I am two months later starting an online journal -- this is my little rant for the fucking day. Now up since 6 PM last night but right now sleep is illuding me so I thought I would do this to pass the time. Now where was I, remember now, a little more about the invitation. I had been looking in a guestbook I rarely use or never touch and found a site for Chicago based horror writers called Twilight Tales. I am thinking of doing an open mic next month -- but debating on what peice am I going to use though. It'll come to me in time, perhaps I might use the entries from The Shadowed Thoughts. This place is to just keep myself fresh because I may not know when an idea would come about for something that I am writing. The idea for Ontario came about when I was in Canada but it was there since I was writing back in 1997. Along with that -- I had done some rework to one of the pictures to that trip to give to (omit) -- debating on the ones to give her.
In close for those who are curious about my darker side -- this would take care of that curiousity. In the meantime -- this should keep the backward hicks entertained because that is what this place is for. I am going to sleep now, but if anyone reading this want to email me -- they are welcomed to it but as long they go read my other writings. I guess now I can crawl into my bed and pass out.
Current Mood: cynical
Expose The Tard Exposing the truth from as far back as 1993.
Friday, November 16, 2007
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