Tag: writing

MY FIRST EDITION PHOBIA THE AFTERMATH

Hello to my great full respected readers. I am always pleased when you enjoy my silly thoughts. Thank-you.

I know it has been a while that I have blogged, but I have been quite busy, trying to edit a book I have written in 1996, with all these children my daughter kept having, lol. There is no time!

Now that these children are the ages of 15, 12, 9 and 6, all soon, starting this month until September they all will be one year up. 🥳

Oh bother, that with the mother losing her head and off to find it and their father incarcerated, the full responsibility is still mine and great full they are in school allowing me to edit this one story out of several, at last.

Now, need I remind you my brain is not functioning as the term normal on any scale of degrees. Meaning I started out dumb and continued in that fashion until I had my own children forcing me to be the best possible teacher allowing them to grow in a safe environment and make them to be five times smarter than I could ever be.

Of course living in my shoes from day one, born in an outhouse in the winter, and given away at four months, kidnapped at 16-18 months, then from an orphanage by the age of three only to be molested from the age of three to seven. Then from the age of ten to fifteen beat where I ran away to the children’s aid Society. That was a bad place to live until my father fought getting me out at the age of 17 1/2 and never looked back.

I can tell you the only thing I cared about was not getting a lick en and what was for supper? Meaning, school meant absolutely nothing to me, I thought it was a punishment? So what I learned was people are extremely cruel, mean, bullies and only care about themselves. So I trusted nobody! And practiced for twelve years lol, to be the best spy ever. Didn’t help much.

By the time I was 15, I was raped, attacked, driven to the bush, <<<>>> I laugh at that now, then, it was scary as big spiders falling on you, scary as lightning hammering down right in front of you, scary as falling off a boat into shark laced waters. I’m just happy to be alive.

My first day starting a job at a hospital I was attacked being held up off the floor by a mad man, I took the wrong door. 🤓 I got the day off.

But all in all I have Heroed several times without a second thought, and always prevented with the triumph of God by my side or in my body strength and purpose.

On the serious side of things. I’ve been run over by horse and buggy run down three times before my mother stopped it, hit my car twice and here I am today. I believe I died once, and I know I spoke to the Lord-he spoke to me. I guess my mission is to raise these children.

Oh wait a minute . . . are you supposed to die when your mission in life is over or something there like that, if that’s the case I don’t want that mission I don’t wanna know my mission my mission better still be confusing and somewhere still out there.

I started writing stories when my children were in school, and me rotten at spelling and grammar and pronunciation and punctuation and a whole whack of things. 😌 the difference between (is and was). Oh bother. Present and past. But when typing my mind has no time for perfection, as I see in my mind as I tell…is, is happening now.

Anyways.

My first edition-PHOBIA THE AFTERMATH

It did all start with the black floater in my left eye causing me to always slapping out at NOTHING! Then I started wondering how to rid of it, and my mind went berserk, all by itself.

THE END

Until the FLASK DRINKERS

Working on that now.

AS YOU TYPE

Daily writing prompt
Which activities make you lose track of time?
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Do you lose track of time? I do, when I do certain things. I can guarantee hours, several hours have passed, like a trick is being played on me with something messing with the clocks. But no. The time reading on every clock in the house read the same with exceptions of a minute or two faster.

How is this possible that time slips away without a tiny hand tapping on my shoulder, “you-who, time to pee, or time to eat or time to give it a rest. It’s time to start supper or catch the bus. Hello?

But it all depends on the activities keeping me in this trance of time loop. Where there is nothing concerning time. What time? Time for what? Forget the time. I’m having a good time or I would spend no time.

Oh boy changing a room around has no bearings for time. Before I, know it, It’s getting dark out and I am close to finishing? When all along it did not seem that long a time. But in the end the whole room is washed and clean and changed. I got all the time in the world. Lol

Then the most silliest thing ever. Getting ready to leave the house for an event. I kill time. I cause time. I exploite time. Then I have to find time to straighten up the clutter I just created looking for the correct clothing just to walk out the door. There is no time left . . .RUN! “You missed the bus again.”

I can’t say cooking and dishes and tidying up, I’m fast at that. Possibably an expert by now, starting at the age of nine, no time wasted at all.

Okay, The master activitity killing any time given me is typing.

As you type as I type, time is not a factor or a reality. As the matter of fact it is the last thing on my mine or not at all. Before I know it, it is bedtime. LOL. Not all the time. But pretty darn close ot it.

AS YOU TYPE, do you lose your mind and all time? I do.

BLACK CAT ON THE ROAD

I have seen a black cat on the road.

I was driving along when out of nowhere a Black Cat ran across the street in front of my vehicle. Of course this sent a shock wave through my body like someone dumped a massive tub of ice cold water on my hot head.

I did not kill the cat, I did not go off the road. But my face went from just being me to that of someone just jumping off a nail yelling no OUCH! But whispering, “awe a black cat.”

Then my mind spewed out superstitious quotes, “if a black cat walks in front of you, something bad will happen. If you walk under a ladder someone will get hurt. If you say Bloody-Mary three times in the mirror-she will get you and kill your friends.”

Then Still driving and thinking about that cat, my head followed this house at the end of the road. Well I could not help but to say, “That’s a stupid place to put a house. Anybody can drive off the road right into the living room or what ever it is.”

Then I thought a bit about the cat and thought, As if. No such thing. I continued onward to the store.

In the store I got what I needed paid, got back in my car and headed home.

Is it the end? NO On my way home lots of red lights and trucks and a police car or two? Were all outside that stupid home at the end of the street.

Did I do that? Was It The Superstitious thinking? Or was it that Black Cat on the road?

So am I superstitious? Na I walk under ladders SOMETIMES lol and the roads were icy that night, It was winter.

Oh yes, drop a fork a woman will visit, drop a knife a man will visit.

There is another saying but I can only remember the ending about kissing a fool. They are all old wives tales anyway or coincidences.

Daily writing prompt
Are you superstitious?
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