I’m writing for you too, spammers

“This is actually however one more manual that’s accessible for watching online completely free as well
as circulated by means of the Creative Commons certificate.”

–Tell me more!

“Yet throughout the years, they dn’t give only free solution but likewise customer assistance.”

I will be sure to use they next time I need likewise customer assistance

“There is actually likewise Scrape, an MIT
task that permits youngsters to schedule their very own accounts and
games aesthetically”

I am, sadly, well beyond “youngster” but I’m flattered! I feel that I am a very aesthetic scheduler though.

“I locate that easy to use as well as would place this someplace in between a Site Home builder and an enhanced CMS.”

I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.

“Some of the best stimulating things about being
actually a language learner in the age of the
Net is that sources could be updated consistently.”

That’s a solid point.

“In order to get to the cost-free music mp3 on iTunes, you’ll must open up iTunes and also click iTunes Store on the left-hand side.”

I’ve been clicking on the right hand side for years…no wonder it never worked.

“Our team are actually providing you the best labels as well as small summary of leading web sites which you could refer for
addressing all your Coffee associated inquiries.”

Most of my inquiries are bourbon associated, but thanks.

“This internet site is a great mix of stunning women, motivational quotes and images, and
various other commonly incredible images for guys.”

Someone should tell the porn industry

“Prospects can receive a primary leg up, having said
that, when they discover the right resources to make use of
for their hunt.”

It is deer season. Is that what you’re talking about?!

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Harvester’s Journal

My name is Kylie and I’m a Harvester. I collect people’s thoughts as one would ceramic penguins. The only difference is I don’t place them on a pressboard shelf somewhere. Instead, they end up in the local Collector where they’re sorted. If they’re good ones–and I always pick good ones, well, mostly anyway–they are picked out by the Handlers. To date, I have 42 hit songs, three nine figure movies and two successful military campaigns.

I sometimes think of all the people out there who had these great ideas and wonder what would of become of them if they were the ones who marketed them, packaged them, sold them. They can’t though. They don’t have the means. It’s sad, but it’s the truth. Instead, I pluck them out. Ripe fruit.

I could always read minds. My first credible memory was from when I was ten months old. I could sense that my mom was going to leave my dad. I didn’t understand at the time but now I know it was because he was a drunk. And he was. Haven’t seen him in twenty years and I don’t want to now. I probed for him once but his mind was silent which usually means they’re dead. Oh well. Another worthless shit gone.

Some think that reading minds would be a great gift, but it’s not. Not at all. If most people knew what others were thinking about them, the world would be in more chaos than it already is. I spend most of my time in the Chrysalis, the quiet room. It’s the only place where the voices stop. Before I was tapped by the Collective, pills and booze were my chrysalis of choice.

There are about fifteen of us Harvesters. I say, about, because we’ve never met each other; our Handlers won’t allow it. I don’t think we can sense other Harvesters because I’ve tried multiple times. But, I know they’re out there. Over the years, I’ve written down their names. The Handlers are smart but they can’t read minds like we can and their thoughts are unguarded from time to time.

Oh shit, gotta go. Where is it? Arkansas. Yep, I think I just caught Taylor Swift’s next hit.

Buried in posts

WordPress changed stuff around again. The posting interface is different and the preview doesn’t work…anyway.

I follow too many bloggers on WordPress. I don’t say that as if it’s a bad thing but an unhappy consequence of this fidelity is that many of my favorite posters get buried, particularly if I don’t check in for a few days. Not to imply the obvious, namely that some are not my favorites. That’s not the case because I’m very selective about whom I choose to follow. There are so many great writers! But what happens is posts disappear into the aether before I get a chance to read them and it’s an aggravation to scroll down ad infinitum.

Anyway, my point is, if I haven’t stopped by your blog in a while, it’s not deliberate. This implies, rather egocentrically perhaps, that my presence has been missed in the first place which may or may not be the case. I’ll do what I can to reconcile.

 

2nd Edition of Footprints Available

Paperback

The 2nd edition of Footprints is now available!

Experience for yourself the writing sensation that has not spent the last 20 weeks on the New York Times Bestsellers list!

See what others are saying:

“It’s pretty good.” –the Author’s wife.

“I liked it!” –from the one and only Amazon review

“jdWaDjdjwDSDQIwdfoon” –what the Author’s cat typed out when she walked across the keyboard

The new edition is available in print and for your Kindle.

Seraphic

Outside of my door
and across the rolling fields
there is
a man
who
killed
an
eight
month
old
girl.

What scintillating rage,
cultured fury,
abandoned black grace
compels one to
quiet a nascent spark?

Her eyes,
now still.

Her gaze,
now black.

Her forward going,
now stopped.

The whisper of the wind
her advocate.
The stars,
her witness.

Pallid justice,
a meager comfort.

Madonna of the Seven Veils

Her voice drips thunder.
Recoil, tender victim,
willing participant.

Her glory couched
irridescent.
She whispers a
blanket of stars.

I have turned her way,
felt her hot breath upon my neck.
Like a child, I shrank from her
glimmering eyes.

She only listens to your blood.

Terribilis est locus iste

Destined

I have fought stagnation,
          its deviled wormy bones
Woken freely to broken dawns
          blue cast horizons
Moon sunk and hairy tree topped.

          Move forward,
broken King!
          Abandon your hope
frothing like a child’s petty scorn.

A perpetual crawling
          this life is.
A reaching forward and a looking backward.
          Invoke!
With a glabbering kiss your legacy awaits.