Friends, Romans, Countrymen, Dogs, Cats…

Hello dear reader(s)!

I am not writing my book right now.  My computer is getting too hot, and I have a feeling it might take a proverbial dump on me, so I have put off the writing of anything important to me until I can be more assured it will not be lost to the sketchy electronics in this crappy lovely computer.

On the plus side, my blog-type-thing isn’t important to me, which means I can write here until my computer is resigned to the big recycling heap in the sky.  (Recycle it?  Not with MY browsing history!)

So…where did we leave off?

I think we were nearing the meeting of O’Rinn and Alexandra at the battle of Lethos.

Surrounded by the bodies of his fallen enemies, O’Rinn was still feeling the effects of the adrenaline.  He knew if he did not find an outlet, the beast within would once again emerge.  He could not risk his allies from the East learning his truth.  He wanted to tear into someone, but all his opponents were dead.  His blood felt as if it were boiling and his muscles tensed tightly, causing him to look more animal than human.  Indeed, he was, but he knew that to be a secret best kept to himself.  He began his attempts at meditation.  He visualized his home by the rocky shores of the western ocean and attempted to feel the serenity and peace he felt when home.  

Out of the water, she came.  Her dark eyes, both deep and piercing, held his gaze as he looked upon her beauty.  Her raven hair fell onto her pale shoulders.   Her warrior dress seemed to emphasize each and every curve of her body.  Rather than calming the beast, this image of her seemed to only stir the fire within.  As she approached closer, he saw the blood stains she proudly bore upon her clothing, and the ocean scene faded away.  The desolate, bloody battlefield reemerged and still she came closer.  He realized he wasn’t imagining her with the ocean, but knew she was straight out of his dreams.  

“I am eternally grateful to you, great warrior,” she began as she touched his cheek with her fingertips.  “Our people surely would not have survived this onslaught without your courage and skill.”  

O’Rinn replied, “No need to be grateful, we of the Albion have a common enemy.  Nothing more, nothing less.  We are also grateful for your fighters, and especially a woman so brave as yourself.”

“Queen.” Alexandra corrected.  “And since you were clearly ignorant of that fact, I will not be offended that you did not kneel before me.”

“I kneel before no one,” O’Rinn stated with a slightly annoyed tone.

“Your poor lovers,” Alexandra answered as she looked hypnotically into his eyes.  “I am quite certain I will have you kneeling before me by nightfall,” she continued as she removed her hand from his cheek and brought it down to firmly grip his co-

Wait, what?  We didn’t leave off there?!?!!  You mean I hadn’t been posting this story all along?   Oh, well…what do you want from me?

I don’t want to write about current events.  It’s too depressing right now, and there are plenty of people with a much larger influence speaking to it all better than I can.

Life is pretty good, with the exception of health and wishing I were more financially secure, so that is nothing worth writing about either.

I could go into more details about my health, but I am still coming to grips with the reality that there is no getting better from this.  I had always thought that if I could just take care of X, Y, and Z, that I could resume a somewhat normal and independent life, and learning that there is no taking care of X, Y, and Z is a little hard to handle.  Symptom management with little results seems to be all I can do.  At least I won’t be wasting as much co-pays on different specialists who can’t do anything for me anymore.  It is too depressing to think about for very long.

I fell backward and stepped on my phone last week.   My replacement phone literally just arrived a minute ago.  It is amazing how much you don’t realize you use your phone until you don’t have one.  It is pathetic how much I have come to rely on it.  I mostly miss the camera.  It is hard to take naughty pictures while holding up my computer.  (Kidding.  It is actually easy to take naughty pictures using my computer.)  (Kidding, I don’t take naughty pictures*, unless you count taking pictures of the naughty food treats my fiance spoils me with.)  (*Subject to change based on finances.)

Anyway, I guess what I am saying, is that I am probably back for now, but might just write a bunch of stories because there really isn’t much I want to talk about and I am not yet at the point where I need to start camming in order to keep afloat.

I hope you all are doing well, and are enjoying the day of labor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

1/4-Ass Post

Hello dear reader(s)!

I had doctor appointments today.   Good times.   So I’ll be back tomorrow.   That’s why you’re getting this quarter-assed post from me today.   I’d call it a half-assed post, but that would require twice as much effort.

Okay, so…that’s about it for this one.  Maybe I should’ve called this 1/16-assed post.

I Am Here For You

Hello dear reader(s)!

Did you miss me?  I missed me.  I missed me hard.

I realize I went MIA there for a while, and there is good reason for that.  I have been insanely busy, or sick, or lazy, or preoccupied.   I have definitely been distracted.  Everything has conspired to keep me from this-here blog-type-thing for quite some time now.  It had gotten to the point to where I considered abandoning it altogether.  (Everyone:  It had gotten to the point to where I considered abandoning it.)

But then I thought about you, my dear reader(s).  Lost and confused in a world without MyFridayBlog™, and all of the goodness and light it brings.  I could abandon my blog-type-thing, but not you, my dear reader(s).

Especially not in times like these, when fascists rule our government, polluters rule our lands, and people actually wait in fucking lines for shitty chicken sandwiches from homophobic businesses.   If I completely went away, the terrorists would win.

However, even though I have made my triumphant return to blog-type-thinging, the news isn’t all good.  It’s fake.  All of it.  Even the true stuff is just fake news.  Especially when it is about our dear Fuhrer Trump and his merry band of fascist traitors in this de-facto Russian Republic.  But the real bad news here is that while I am still going to be blog-type-thinging, I definitely need to scale this motherfucker back.

I am going back to a posting schedule.  I was thinking Fridays (but then it might like the title!), but also Saturdays and Sundays.   I just have too many other things I need/want to do when I have any limited energy to be wasting hours and hours of the day carefully crafting these magical, life-changing words for you day in and day out.

So…  let’s try to catch you up since I last posted.  Let’s see…

Trump should be impeached and if he isn’t, the GOP is just as guilty of treason as he is.  But I think I have been saying that for some time now.  Despite it being fake news, it is very real treason.

My life has done a complete 180 (with exception of my health, that’s still an issue) since relocating.

The AHCA has passed the House and if it resembles anything close to what the Senate comes up with then people will get desperate and do desperate things.

My area is in a housing bubble.  Most of the country is.  It’s fucking ridiculous.

It’s hot today.  Too hot.  It’s only going to get hotter coming up.  I think I need to get air conditioning clothes.

Um…  I guess that’s about it for now.   I’ll be back Friday, like the title of this-here blog-type-thing.  Might stalk all your shit in the meantime.

Peace be with you.  (And also with you.)

The Downside To Inspiration

Hello dear reader(s)!

I have been on a creative tear again recently.  I am feeling inspired again and I am extremely happy about it.

Some of my past periods of heavy inspiration have been from longing for someone, or from a depression, or out of boredom, or simply a need to do something other than the standard birth-school-work-retirement-death cycle that people live.  But not this time.

This time I am inspired because I am happy.  I am happy, and I feel like the me that was suppressed by my unhappy situation is breaking out and making itself known once again.

Okay, and maybe there is some longing in there too, but muses are a good thing, right?

I started a painting yesterday that I am very happy with.  I intend to finish it tomorrow and will be adding something I haven’t really done before, so I hope I don’t screw up all the work I have already done on it.

Because I am sorry Bob Ross, there are mistakes.

I’m pretty sure if I hose it up too bad, I can cover it up, however.

I’ve also been writing music again and am trying to learn how to make some crafty-type-things that I want to do.

I don’t paint or write music thinking I am any good at either, just like I don’t write this here blog-type-thing thinking I am a good writer (I mean, have you read this crap?), I do it because something inside of me says that I have to.

And oftentimes that thing is in response to something.  But not now.  Now it is me just doing it for myself and whoever may or may not enjoy what I have to offer.

But, like everything in life, there are downsides to this little creative burst.  They are as follows:

  1. It can be messy  I don’t know, you might end up with paint on your face, or in your hair, and if it isn’t at least all over your hands, you have no business painting.  Either that or you are some super-human freak who needs to use your magic for more than keeping paint off your hands.  The world needs it.
  2. It can suck away your time  “I’m just going to finish this little tree here,” you say four hours ago as you are now working on something about thirty steps away from that little tree.  You don’t even notice until it is becoming too dark to see your work.
  3. You forgo important things  During that time you were supposedly just finishing that little tree, you should have had lunch, checked the mail, evacuated the building because of that inferno.  Now you are dead, all because you were feeling creative.  Good job.
  4. Your relationships can suffer  “Yes baby, I know you want me to do dirty things to you, but I just need to finish this little tree,” you say as she walks out of your door forever.  Then you end up painting her underneath that tree as a way to express your sadness she left, when you could have just done dirty to things to her under a real tree.
  5. Your neighbors will hate you  Particularly if you choose music as your creative outlet and sing as poorly as I do.
  6. It can be expensive  Art supplies, musical instruments, attorney fees for fighting your noise complaints, fines for losing that fight, new houses so you don’t have to deal with noise complaints, sound-proofing for when someone new moves in next door…all of this can add up.
  7. You start to associate with flaky artist types  But you can understand why they are so flaky now because when you are inspired you forget to eat.
  8. It isn’t sustainable  Some periods of inspiration last longer than others.  Sometimes the crashes between times when you’re inspired are so short you hardly notice.  But, eventually, there will be that crash.  And it will feel like your whole world has fallen apart.  You will lie in sorrow, unable to remember a time when you saw life in any real color.  You will feel as though you are endlessly falling, with nobody or nothing to catch you.  But if you’re smart, you will remember that feeling a make a great masterwork that everyone who has ever felt uninspired can relate to when you are feeling inspired once more.  Or, if you’re like me, you will get sick from the expenditure of effort and energy you can’t continue with for too long.
  9. People will think you are an attention whore  Because you kind of are.  If you weren’t, you wouldn’t show anyone else your creations.  You would keep them solely for yourself in your little studio to be found by family who completely devalues them when they go through your things after you die.  But being an attention whore isn’t as bad as it may sound.  Take it from me, the great, Joshua Wrenn of MyFridayBlog™.  Love me!
  10. The cats keep trying to paw at your painting and almost knocked over the paint thinner even know they are never allowed to go up there and never do when there isn’t some sort of project they could ruin sitting there!  

Well dear reader(s), I had better get going.  I wasted a lot of time being inspired today and I got important life stuff to consider doing before ultimately putting off.

What inspires you?

If Only

I felt like I could see you
You were stuck inside your head again
So I couldn’t get to sleep at all last night

I felt like I was drowning
You were struggling with your memories
I’m left to hope you win this fight

Remember when it was easy
I liked you and you liked me
We didn’t have these bleeding wounds then
We weren’t afraid of what could be
So what if we are wiser
If it means we’ll never see
Everything that we could hope for
If only we could be free

I thought too much about it
I made things even worse than
I would have if I didn’t know by now

I’ve lived this once before you
It wasn’t meant to be then
I hope this is different somehow

Remember when it was easy
I liked you and you liked me
We didn’t have these bleeding wounds then
We weren’t afraid of what could be
So what if we are wiser
If it means we’ll never see
Everything that we could hope for
If only we could be free

If you only knew the way I felt is real
I wonder if you could ever maybe really just let go
You could see I’d never want to see you crying
You could see the heart inside you I already know

Remember when it was easy
I liked you and you liked me
We didn’t have these bleeding wounds then
We weren’t afraid of what could be
So what if we are wiser
If it means we’ll never see
Everything that we could hope for
If only we could be free

©Joshua Wrenn 2017

 

Intent

Okay, I’ll admit it, I really can’t forget it
Would you really want to anyway?
Timing wasn’t good, I don’t think you understood
I did not want you to go away
I told you I don’t chase, You weren’t in that place
So I tried to make things good inside the bad
But now those things have changed, Everything’s rearranged
I want that chance you know we should have had
I will not distract, Or ever hold you back
I know you’re working hard to reach your dream
But maybe you’ll decide, You’d like me by your side
I know that we could make a perfect team
So what is my intent? I just want to cement
Plans to show you just how I feel
I think we have a chance, For an epic romance
I intend to show my heart is real

No More Of This

Dear you,

I am tired of us dancing around the subject.  No amount of attempts to define it as something else will be successful.  We cannot ignore the history that we have, as much as we may wish we could.

I want you.  I have for some time now.  The only time I ever gave up hope is when I thought it was hopeless.  But now I know that for anything else to happen between us would just be unnatural.  You were meant for me.  I am supposed to have you.

I dream of inhaling your sweet scent.  Breathing you in and holding you in with my breath, so that I can truly immerse myself in you.

I dream of tasting you.  Of savoring you on my tongue.  Of drinking your wetness into me to where it seems we briefly become one.

Am I just supposed to see you so close to me and act as if I don’t know the truth of what you are?  Am I supposed to pretend like I am not craving you every time you are near?  Am I supposed to sit by and watch as someone else takes you from me?  Am I suppose to play it cool and pretend I do not thirst for your very essence?

No more of this.

I do not care about what is proper here.  I do not care about any obstacles between us.  I will move them all out of my way to get to you.  I know this is how it needs to be with us.  I see you there in that glass, lemonade, and you’re mine.