A Walk Down Broughton St. (NSFW)

NOTE: This post contains strong language, so I wanted to warn people upfront it’s definitely Not Safe For Work.

A few years ago, in the city of Savannah, I was walking down Broughton Street. I was returning to my job from a trip to Starbucks for my afternoon latte. That’s when this dude tries to stop me and asked me for some money.  I told him sorry I don’t have any money on me. He waited until I walked away from him to yell out the word, “faggot.” He repeated it several times, and I never turned back to acknowledge him.  Now I’m going to assume he thought he was hurting my feelings, and if I was to take his comments seriously, I may fall all to pieces.

Two important things I want to discuss that makes the story worth talking about. The first is I know the younger me would not have tolerated such foolishness. Dude would’ve gotten a smart ass answer back. Something along the lines of, “that’s not what your momma calls me,” or “your daddy says not call him that while he’s on his knees.” I’m not kidding, I can give just as good as I can take. Sometimes I do feel some people do need just to be snapback just so they can keep themselves still, or at the very least realize they’re not playing with a child. Politeness is not weakness.  Not by a longshot.

My second point, and the reason I was inspired to discuss this scenario, is a lot of people think they can put a person down by inventing a negative sexual shaming. Sometimes the insult is by gender, race, or orientation.  It doesn’t matter. It’s a nasty thing for any human being to do to another. Granted no one wants to be called out of their name. I’ve mentioned in a previous post that when someone has to resort to name-calling in a situation they’ve already lost. More importantly most choose to do their name-calling behind your back so that their words will remain unchallenged.

A lot of people feel empowered and emboldened when they disrespect others, but in reality, they are trying to mask their insecurities, immaturity, and weakness. Utter foolishness.


A Post Late In The Day

Usually the posts get done earlier within the day. Not much to say other than I have an outline that could stand completion.  Sometimes writing out what happens doesn’t make sense yet, and it goes through multiple rewrites.

Finally arrived at a concept for the lead story that’s likable.  Since this is the lead, it picks the theme, which is about the consequences of choices. The other stories in the outline need to reflect the them for unification.

It seems like at the moment, my night got busier, and I’m distracted. Chaos pops up again.  The universe is odd. I’m a mess. This will change soon.

Happy creative endeavors.

This is My Sunday

A bit scatterbrained, and have yet to finish this coffee. Today is a day already filled with upsets, as I am unable to focus and make things happen. This means addressing some stuff, and hopefully the chaos will calm down.  If not, a strategic retreat is in order, with headphones, to get rid of all the outside noise.

Writing needs to get done. Had a vision of success, that can only get done if things get done. This means having to go all taskmaster on some things for myself. Some actions gotta cease, and I have to avoid procrastination. At least use loving as a reward after I complete what I’d like to get done.


Was working on some instructions for a friend when I created an example that ended up being the start of an hour-long drama. I need to finish this outline.  It’s raw as all get out–some of the characters don’t have any names. I may post some of it just to document my progress. I need to work on it today, and when I’m done with all four acts, I’ll consider posting.

Happy creative endeavors, and keep writing.


Wednesday Know Your Limits.

Today it’s a bit nippy,many I didn’t want to rise from my slumber. At the same time, I needed to get up and move about. The app for WordPress seems to be working again, which for some reason was being non-compliant which lead to a delete and redownload. So good to see it working with not glitches, crashes, or me using some choice words.

Writing was fruitful yesterday. I found myself looking up story structure, and applied it to the story I was working on. The research was good, as I found I was overwriting scenes. To clarify, each act in a show has a certain amount of scenes per story with up to three stories in an act. Although I’ve seen shows with more than three per act. We’re gonna go with three because I need to narrow ideas down.

What I’d love to do, with this knowledge is work on outlines for episode two and three, which should have equally successful momentum. I’d love to see these outlines completed.

One thing that I also did is write out a scene that played out in my head that came from the outline. It’s as rough as all get out, and will need to be revised, but the goal was to get the scene from my head I to a file. Writing it out also helped me see a problem with the scene and think of solutions.

Now I’m blogging. Blogging is good.

As always, happy creative endeavors.

Taste It First: A Roommate’s Tale

Gilly opened the fridge remembered that she failed to put any food on her side of the fridge.  The other side a few items like bread, and milk, but on the main shelf was this clear container filled with chili. She pulled the container out, and peeled back the lid, and took a smell. The chili was a deep shade of red, with what looks like meat, beans, onions, and it smelled good.  She smiled, as her stomach grumbled.  “Hey, Theo,” Gilly  said.  “I want some of this chili.”

Theo was in his room playing video games.  The fight was barely done, and the “level up” sign appeared on screen.  He was less than smiling until he heard Gilly. “Uh. Maybe you should taste it first.”

“I’m a taste it when I have a  bowl of it.”

“You know how I like it. Don’t fix a bowl unless you taste it first.”

“It’s cold. I’ll just heat up a bowl and have some.”

Theo sighed, and he found his himself fidgeting with the controller to select new abilities for his character. “heat a little up in the microwave and taste it.”

Gilly rolled her eyes.  She placed a dab of the chili in a bowl, and heated it up. A few seconds passed for what seemed like forever, “What are you doing back there?” Theo didn’t respond. She grabbed the bowl, grabbed a spoon, and tasted it.  She felt a confrontational heat in her mouth, and after she swallowed a secret fire burned and lingered in her mouth, then trailed down her throat that she felt travel down her esophagus. ‘What the hell?” She grabbed a bottle of water, fumbled with the cap, and drank it.  The heat spread inside her mouth and throat.

“Drink some milk,” Theo said.

“Theo. This is too hot.  What’s wrong with you?”

“It’s not too hot. It’s perfect.”

“You can’t serve this.”

“It’s fine, Gilly.”

“No it’s not.” Gilly took the container, and dumped the contents in the garbage. Theo walked in the kitchen just in time to see the last of his chili gone into the garbage.

“Gilly, what the hell?”

“You burned me, and now I’ve burned you.”

“I don’t have the money for another meal. That was supposed to last me for a few days until I get paid.”

“Too bad,” she said as she played with her hair.

“You’re too lazy to make or purchase food, and now I have to eat your mistakes?”

“Looks that way.”

Theo couldn’t hide the glare on his face.  He huffed, turned away, went back to his room, and slammed the door.

Her stomach still agitated her. She drank the milk from the carton, and refused to put the cap back on. She contemplated who in their right mind was going to lend her sixty bucks to cover her meal, and compensate Theo for his.

Cool Dreams

So, last night’s dream was simple and followed some logic where everything seems to click.  Usually my dreams conflict with logic, and there are things that don’t mesh, and annoy/frustrate me in my dreams. Last night just felt good, and waking up this morning was ok.

Did minimal writing, but watched a documentary on HP Lovecraft, then a couple of episodes of Agent Carter. Both the documentary and the show proved to be entertaining.  It helped stimulate my brain.

Needless to say learning a little more about Lovecraft helped me understand his craft a lot better. I knew he was influential, but he had a vicious racist streak that I knew about, and it turned me off to him, so I never wanted to read his works. I’m still off-put, and it does’t mean he didn’t have talent. Lovecraft was a walking contradiction in terms of his actual viewpoints and what he did in real life.

Lovecraft’s influence is seen on several creators I admire so it was worth watching, and perhaps I may read his stories one day…Maybe. Let’s be clear. It doesn’t mean I accept his viewpoints if I do.  I’ve heard Wagner’s music, and detested his anti-Semitic stance. He’s talented, but too hateful.  That hate really stands out and prevents me from having full enjoyment of his works. I digress.

Writing was a minimum yesterday, but in my lazy wake-up this morning, I imagined scenes I jotted down when I got myself up.  Been revising one already.  either has to do with the TV show, but I love the idea of writing just the same.

Happy creative endeavors, peeps.