I am listening to Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge. It is a delightful song to start your day if you haven’t tried it. Thankfully the Internet is full of awesome things that will let you experience this with very little effort at all. I am in a very narrow mindset this morning and I think this will help me exquisitely to get done what I think needs to get done. What is it that I want to get done before I disappear into the vast world of College Football at noon?
I want to write about blood and death. I want to write about bathing in it and drinking it and fucking through it and every other thing you can think of. Will I? I have absolutely no idea, I am telling you what I want to get done, I am not a psychic by any stretch of even my imagination. I have felt the urge to go back to the preternatural lately, and while my beloved Siobhan and the new joy of Victoria will always be in the centerpiece, I was raised writing blood and darkness and despair. History and teeth and mashing and mixing legends from all over the world.
Other than that, it is going to be a chill day, I have a lot on my mind and I need to try and shovel some of it off.
Rawrz motherfuckers (Also gender-neutral, I may add)
© 2019, TheJameyBear. All rights reserved.
I am JameyBear. Liberal. Hippie. Dad. Widower. Poet. Author. Sarcastic Ass. Friend. Lover. Hater.
I have lied and cheated, stolen and done violence in word and deed.
I have given the shirt off my back and they wanted the skin underneath instead.
I am a notorious soft touch, wearing my heart on my sleeve and wanting to make everyone happy.
I tip too much, too often, too many places, and it is has burned me even as recent as this week.
I love everyone I have ever hated still. I will always love the memory of being in love with them.
I want to be your friend. No. I want you to want me to be your friend.
I am clingy and needy, dependent and hopelessly lost in times that I will never live in.
I use language that was archaic when archaic was a new word in the early 19th century.
I want to record myself reading everything so people won’t forget me when I disappear.
I talk too much, listen too deeply, process too quickly and infer way too much.
My beard is also better than yours