Transcription Beta (low confidence) “Hey you, Apologies for taking so long to return your call, I’ve been lost in America, MIA. I haven’t been able to think clearly, although maybe I’ve been thinking too clearly and that’s the problem, after all clarity is a matter of perspective. Thank goodness for humor, almost everything is funny… […]
I really like Mia’s work. The part about Dramamine makes me think of that song by the Sparks – Angst in my pants. I’m probably the worst about explaining the fine details of why I think a piece of art is good but Mia’s writing in this piece is something I would like to read more of.
Work has been going well, it looks like next week they are going to order me a more ergonomically efficient chair, which is like, the best ever because who wants to fuck up their spine while they’re hunched over slaving away as a typist. A typist!
Mia I hope this share does your work justice, if you think it looks funky in any way or you want me to change anything just send me a message.
It’s been a long week and I am still the writer who does not write. Watched a Lovecraft doc on YouTube tonight and I couldn’t help but compare myself to him when the narrator described how Howard didn’t work because he felt a gentleman should “be” not have to “do.” Yeah well it’s 2019 and that shit don’t get you followers/people willing to buy your books. I decided long ago to start playing the lotto when I decided to give up on making a living like any other person. Currently working on a short story about love, and the awful shit people do to each other because that’s what love makes them do. I’ll hopefully share a line or two soon as I can stop being so depressed that I am able to. Don’t hold your breath.
and as an added bonus here’s a bit of prose/something to start a story. No title
Waking up can be difficult. The indecisive nature of how I operate makes for an easily self-contained person. A science experiment in the idea of not wanting to better myself yet going through weeks were all I do is obsess over bettering myself.
Writing short stories is harder than I expected. I thought I could just take my rotten experiences and my juvenile hijinks from my life and apply them to some sort of literary coup.
The junkies in the streets fair off better than you or me, the reason is because there’s nothing in what I see that can force me to change what’s wrong with me