Hello,
I am not doing well and posting chapters here is my happy place so it might continue to happen, but the reality is I hate my life and the people in it apart from like two—and I’m going to be letting this page go to pursue survival.
In time, hopefully, I will be creating a WordPress to hold my fiction in a better way. I’d like to keep writing there, but I need to be careful because this world and the people in my life have broken me down to a shell of what I was, and I’m having trouble finding any interest in creating art for other people to enjoy. I don’t really care to leave a gift of legacy for people that saw me to my grave early.
I’ll be reading when and while I can and fighting every second to be the happiest and most complete person I can be, as I have every day before this.
Time Throws Fire will be the final thing published on this blog—but please do not expect it to be done at the speeds in which the rest was created—nor of the same heart, for mine has been officially imploded after all this time praying for one person to answer me back—to talk to me.
I’ve been making great efforts to heal trauma in my life and all but two have relented to speaking with me and/or seeing me to heal what I carry within my body. One in which the pain is unbearable.
Just for the record. Those are the two people who stole me and my gifts from this world through their calloused disregard.
Without releasing these greatest traumas, I don’t feel like I’m going to make it much longer and I don’t care to admit it. None of y’all care regardless—I’ve written three books here—nearly a hundred personally courageous essays—poetry that went from bad to meh to fucking great.
My final chapter of The Foundry was read the most out of any narrative fiction chapter I’ve posted. That implies someone finished it.
No one has ever offered a positive word to me about my books or short stories on this platform, except for a friend who read Part One of Justiceers (the first part of my first book, and told me they loved it.)
Whoever you are that reads here—you know I struggle—you are a terrible person and/or people for looking and enjoying and never once offering a single shred of appreciation or encouragement to my art. It’s my whole heart and there is no way someone could read my writing and not have it improve their own life in some way—that’s what it’s all about—showing my spirituality, mental health and trauma journeys bravely so others might be inspired to heal on their own or with me.
To never hit a like button is disgusting and I have no qualms telling any and all of you here who took part in that disregard; I hope you burn for it—if you never make it right.
To take from my art and heart—then let me die alone without knowing it’s been enjoyed—is the biggest shame of all and I hope you sit with that—I hope you sit with it the rest of your life, whoever you are.
Regardless, still fighting for happiness until the end.
I’m starting an online book club in hopes to have a space where I might connect with cool people and haven’t gotten any takers yet.
Even though I’ve likely just made you feel quite bad. I hope you make up for it by communicating with me or taking part in something cool like this with me.
Goodbye or hello or whatever.
https://bookclubs.com/clubs/6109431/join/7cb78925
I’m reading Latro in the Mist