Rinse, lather, follow the pattern
I feel like social media, namely the big F, is following a pattern of repeat as of late. Shares and reshares, new comments move old content upwards. Like a spiral of repeat reading that has my mind unbelievably saddened and even more so… bored.
Rinse and repeat, though my selection of “friends” is few and personal, it seems even liking multiple pages doesn’t offer respite from the repeats. Even worse, when said pages repeat the same content within days, weeks, or even months old. And the cycle concludes with the same resounding feeling before I leave the big F.
Maybe I am not following the right people.
She’s an angel, at some angles.
So I was writing a blog post the other day that was definitely different from my usual writings and musings. It was a rather dark and gritty story with torture and death the likes you won’t find in any of my other stories. Not that it was a bad thing.
But then I went back and re-read it and thought about it for two days. I have decided not to post the short story for a very good reason. It is too adult for the kind of content I release on my blog. So instead, I’m going through a second drafting phase on the story in question to add more to it. When I feel that it is done to the “t”, I will be submitting it to magazines and such that look for those kinds of stories and hope for publication.
Let’s just see how this goes from here, haha! Hoping for good outcomes, no matter how morbid this story gets after a couple drafting phases and a good solid edit. Now back to my (ir)regularly scheduled programming.
Scars run down his face, large and vicious. Her claws had dug deep that fated night. But his head rang thoughts of revenge, to do the same to her pretty face.
One raunchy evening, drunk as he’ll, he had called a number he got from a friend. The voice was soft, seductive. They talked for over an hour, agreeing with some monetary exchange for her ‘services’. A short term hotel room was their meeting place, her supple body his for a time. But in his stupor, he must confess, his fist had raised at a slight discrepancy in their agreed terms. Her hands were like lightning to his face.
He lost everything that month. His wife, the kids departed, his home foreclosed and his job cut from him. A year had passed, and still his anger raged. His fingers clenched the gun tight, as he watched her take in another fool. He snuck around, hiding behind bushes, as the hour dwindled down. His hand jersey up, a shot rang out. Down went the fool, but Scarlett had not stepped out.
He burst through her door, her name on his lips. She was nowhere to be seen. He grew ever more furious. From around the corner she stepped, calm as ever. Her clothes slid off, and he shut the door. First her body, he thought, as she drew closers, then her life. But when she neared, she kissed his scars gently. The anger began to fade, lust taking over. But what he didn’t see coming was a knife through his throat.
“No man will ever best Scarlett.” She smiled. Then everything faded.
Image source here:
This is a different kind of story for me. I’m not usually into this kind of macabre storytelling, more for the other types of dark storytelling. Let me know what you guys think below.
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I’m at a crossroads with myself.
Between my day job and building up towards being a freelance writer, I leave myself wondering if this is the right path, or to veer off and ride the rails for creative writing.
A crossroad that troubles me.
An engaging wonder in the worlds untold, or the hard truths of the world. Seeing as how I need funds, and content mills do only so much, mayhap freelancing may not be where I need to go.
But in retrospect, writing those few I have done wasn’t hard, just finding ones that I could do easily was. Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way? Maybe, just maybe, I need to buckle down and just get jobs done. Maybe that is where I need to go. Down the proverbial rabbit hole, into where my likelihood of success lowers but the chances of more reward higher.
But still, the crossroad beckons me.
The call of words for creative purpose is still within. Maybe I need to find a way. 400 words a day is easy in the creative mindset, where 300 or more gets rough for a client’s needs. Maybe I should spend at least part of my day on those livid moments, to bring a world go life, so the monotonous times won’t be so… dull?
Perhaps, I should try to step between the fork, and burn a path that incorporates all, without burning myself out.
To which I say: We’ll see.
I was saddened yesterday that the brand new phone I had gotten just two weeks ago is getting a voluntary recall. For those who do not know, the Samsung Galaxy Note 7 is getting recalled due to problems with the battery during charging. This issue hasn’t effected my phone but since it is a known issue and with two young children and wife, I will be replacing it soon.
It’s sad, though, since I have been a long time Note fan. I have had at least one of each since the Note 2, and has remained one of my favorite phones with the S-Pen, it’s large size and its usefulness in writing and even digital sketching. And with the 7, the dual edge screen and its edge panel has become very dear to my daily use.
It is currently unclear as of the time of this writing on what Samsung is planning to do with the model as a whole, and how the recall will be handled by them. Verizon, the carrier I’m currently on, is offering to take back the models and waive their usual restock fee until the 30th of this month, though their website doesn’t specify if it is replacing the phones with a different model or just doing a trade-in type of thing. The Galaxy S 7 seems like a fair, though not nearly as useful, trade but I will wait and see.
Samsung News Room Statement
Wall Street Journal article on same subject