Bookmaking log: finalized through page 190 of CoIn, 86 pages remaining | TBN +678 words
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The secret project is going to be finished this week. I’m announcing it before Friday, it’s going to be done either tonight or tomorrow, and yeah. I’m literally at the fucking cusp here, folks, I’m almost back to current. I can’t even describe how excited I am to get back to TFotSE. I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to finish OTR and the other thing I’m putting out with it, but probably don’t expect it in July. Early to general August is what I’m thinking right now. Might be later, might be July. I have no idea. Time’ll tell. I’m really excited though 😀
I wish I had a story or something, but today was just kind of bleh. I sat workin’ all day. Didn’t make as much progress as I’d’ve liked to – I should have bought weed today but I didn’t because THOW and I’m likely going to run out before I can set something up for tomorrow and my point is that I’m allowing my weed supply to stress me out and make me slightly less productive. But work is getting done. I have 9 pages left of story 12, then stories 13-15 and then CoIn is done. Then I have a little bit of stuff to do for the secret project, and then that’ll be done as well. I’ll publish it, it’ll be out, and I’ll move forever the fuck forward with my shit.
The thought of not having THOW to work on is weird to me. It’s been on my plate since 2017 and it’s going to be done. You know, lately I’ve been thinking that I see all these writers talkin’ about “oh I worked on this project for a year, two years,” whatever, and I’m like, huh, most of my books take a couple of months max. I wish I had a big multi-year project to stroke my dick about. Little did I realize, I had that all along: THOW. I wrote it to teach myself how to write, I wrote it to keep myself from making an incredibly foolish decision, I wrote it to honor the life and death of the greatest cat to ever do it, my late tuxedo Milkshake the Mongrel may the best boy rest in peace can I get an amen?… and I wrote it. It’s 7 books long, over 600,000 words, and I wrote the entire goddamn thing myself. AND IT’S ONLY ROUGHLY HALF OF MY TOTAL WORK. I don’t know if my work is any good, per se, but I know I’ve done a fucking lot of it. And I know it’s not garbage. And I’m damn proud of myself for how far I’ve come. For Christ’s sake, when I started this website I was blogging about my open third eye and the higher planes of consciousness I was in contact with and now I’m about to release my 12th work of fiction; I might be broke, but I’m an accomplished fucking bookmaker, I did something! What the fuck else matters, ‘man???
Nothing. It’s okay to love yourself and the things you do, ‘man. It’s good to be proud of yourself, to know and accept yourself, to PLAY YOUR CHARACTER IN THE STORY OF LIFEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHHBOOGABOOGABOOGAAAAAAA is that arrogant? Am I feelin’ myself right now, should I slow down? Is that what you think? Well I think your thoughts aren’t worth thinking, so what the fuck now??
I’ll tell you what: go write a fucking book, сука. I’m a half-gopnik hillbilly and I put books in the back of my books, what the fuck are you doing with your life?
Not you, noted reader, I’m talking to that сука in the ripped rose pantyhose creepin’ up behind you all stealth-like. What about you, you ask? Well you’re about to catch your first body. You’re doing exactly as you should be 🙂
Since you’re there, noted reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~