CommonsLog: added A Ryngwood Life photo gallery to library | TBN +1,694 words
• • • nothing writ’ below these dots • • • is meant for human eyeballs • • •
Hot liquid shit, noted reader! The Sto’tryp proof copy is scheduled to arrive today! Left for delivery almost an hour ago, according to Amazon! I’m’a have this bitch published by tomorrow!
Honestly it might be Wednesday, don’t you fucking rush me! I have literally a dozen-point-two-five books out that you can read in the meantime, okay, you have plenty of material. It all came out within the last 2 years, too, so it’s… well it’s not new, not really, not even Over the River was new, I wrote that shit and let it sit for four months and guess what!
Letting the manuscript sit did not help at ALL with the editing process. For writers who are fooling themselves, letting a ‘script sit might seem to work, but for bookmakers like myself – and I am the only one of my kind, let’s not split hairs or make any mistakes here, there is a LARGE gap between me and whoever has the ballsack to follow in my footsteps, ‘kay, because they’re not following my footsteps. They’re following the pattern of broken bramble I left behind me walking through this endless wood of The Hillside Commons, they’re nighthiking without a flashlight, they’re taking a two-mile barefoot walk off the beaten path, okay, they’re literally doing the things that I actually do for fun and they’ll still never catch me. They might not even be real. Let’s be real for a second, who the fuck else is going to embody The Bookmaker like I do? Nobody. Anybody else in my shoes would have killed themselves by now, but not me. See, I chose to buckle down and do work rather than bitching at the Universe for granting me this highest gift of life! I get to be part of planet Earth’s energy cycle, okay, so since I gotta be here I’m’a gonna do it grand, y’see, y’understan’, I’m gonna be The Bookmaker and I’m gonna do it better than anybody else could because nobody else is me enough to come up with this shit. I’m just doing my thing, ‘man, and I’m feeling fucking great about doing it, too.
bookmaker bookmaker, making these books. making these books like nobody else
you can read a book, and it can be great, but uh
it’s not gonna be one of mine
nothing anybody could ever make could be one of mine
i’m not saying im better or worse, I’m just saying im different
different in the greatest, grandest way
and how awesome is it that I put all my content out for free? Speaking of which, there will be a new photo gallery up by the end of the day. I just got finished pilfering through my photobank and I have 2 galleries put together, one is called A Ryngwood Life and the other is called Skyscapes. I might change the name of the latter, haven’t gone through it yet, but I did name all the pictures in the first gallery, there are 49 total
just realized the gallery will be up before I post this, like, no matter what. Lol The Note
so yeah, ‘man, I am feeling good about The Hillside Commons’s addition of a photography wing. It can’t be a bad thing, right? More free content. You come to The Hillside Commons and you have access to 15 original books and 2 entire photo galleries, a third on the way. A fourth is on the way, too, there’s this old abandoned mineshaft in the woods over on the other side of Sto’ and I’m gonna go there and do a photoshoot, might bring a ‘man with me, might go it alone. That’s up to the ‘man; regardless, if the weather lets it happen, I’m looking at this weekend for the mine shoot. It’s gonna be called A Stroll to Roomy Mine, it’ll be dope.
Know what I just realized? I haven’t even smoked yet. I was going to smoke… about… about an hour and a half ago by now, but I decided to first do the OTR posts, then I decided to go through my photobank, then I sorted out the two galleries and named the first one, set it to upload to Imgur so I thought hey, might as well get one goin’ with The Note, and so I did, and here we are. Bahamian Rap City is bumping in my bedroom because i haven’t brought the Aiwa out into the chill room, which is the de facto The Writer’s Room until I have my own place, and I didn’t bring it in here because I thought I was going to do the blog posts real quick and then get in there and get smokin’, but then I subconsciously decided to work instead!
In other words, my friends used to call me Hoontr the Weed God. See, I’ve always been the Astral God of All, I was born into this human body with a kind of higher energy that folks can sense from a distance, and it makes a lot of folks uneasy. See, I have a certain kind of power that most folks don’t have
NIGGER KIKE CUNT FAGGOT DYKE FUCK YOU ALL I HOPE YOU BURN IN A GAS-CHAMBER FIRE AT AUSCHWITZ YOU FUCKING RAPE-WORTHY SUBHUMAN PRODUCT OF BEASTIALITY LOW BEING EGGLESS SPERMS!
see i can just write that shit and nobody’s gonna say a goddamn thing. And if they do? Well, if someone does decide to put some words on the fact that The Bookmaker is using certain words, all The Bookmaker has to do is remind that someone of the fact that, hey, words aren’t real like you and me are, they mean what we want them to mean, and when you read my words and get offended by them, you are admitting physically that you would rather give me hatred than love. You would rather go against me than support me. You would rather see me dead than see me alive
and then I’ll tell you to do something about it, big boi, if you’re gonna talk all this shit you’re talking
and then you won’t
because you could sense my A-God energy the moment I started typing this, you knew a new rendition of The Note was coming, I don’t even need to post this blog post for you to be aware of its existence, but I will, and it will contain those words, and if you’re stupid enough, you’ll step up and say something and prove to the world that you are not smart enough to understand the work of The Bookmaker, and I’ll tell you to ‘man the fuck up and do something about it, and you won’t, because you’re not The Bookmaker, and also, you’ll realize that you only doubted me because I instilled that doubt in your mind, see, I want you to doubt me, those who doubt me are dumb enough to doubt me, probably retarded enough to think I’m crazy, too, and I don’t have room for dumb folks in my life because my life is dedicated to this operation right here right now! I am The Hillside Commons and if I don’t want you here, I will say what I need to say to ensure the safety and life of The Hillside Commons.
For I am The Bookmaker, you see, and if you fear me, you are right to do so. Those who have things to fear in this world are my enemy. If you do not have love for me, expect nothing but chuck’d horseshoes and lobb’ed hand grenades, all right, in the words of the rapper JL, “Don’t hate me unless you’re gonna shoot me.”
I don’t have time for your shit, is what I’m saying. My time is worth more than yours. If this post applies to you, you’re a bitch, and I’m glad we don’t talk. If you’re not a little faggot and you want to contribute to what in all likelihood will be the next Library of Alexandria… well, then help me move out of my fuckin’ parents’ house so I can start bryngin’ folks in properly! I might be The Bookmaker, but I don’t want my books to be the only ones lining the shelves. I don’t want my photos to be the only ones in the gallery. I want The Hillside Commons to be used by the humans, not just by the human who is actually the Astral God of All, surprise, here I am!
I don’t want a Garden of Eden, ‘man. I just wanna bryng you to life. Rob Cantor, if you’re wondering. But uh, I have Planet Eden, which exists inside The Garden. I’m good over here, ‘man, I made up a whole new religion, started from scratch and found my way to the Spectrum of Consciousness and it all makes a hell of a lot more sense than other human religions that so many blindly follow for no reason other than the fact that their parents made them afraid not to…
And why do I say that? Because it was the same way for me. My old religion was being afraid of the unknown, and considering how much time I was made to spend sheltered in my home in those days, a whole lot of the world was unknown to me, and I feared it. Then, I died and came back to life. And now I know “the truth”.
to reiterate: I believe what I believe because what I believe was revealed to me. Chances are, you believe what you believe because what you believe was forced upon you by folks who don’t understand it any better than the ones who forced it unto them.
Nothing for nothing, one side of this coin is a lot more fun than the other. I would know, I’ve been to both.
And I made a choice.
Since you’re there, noted reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~