Prose and musing by Sam I am.
Writer of cyberpunk, dystopian fiction, and nonfiction. Plus whatever drives me at the time.
Strolling thru some mediocre, twenty-four-thousand words some good, some bad, just so I can get to the point that I can write what I am meaning to say. And so often their slipping, but there is something in the scrolling that is strangely poetic and satisfying.
When I get here it reassembles onto the page, and I worry whether it will make sense, but it kinda doesn’t have to anyway, if it is real, and it comes through there, wherever that is. And so, I write, and I take a bite. And I smoke some more.
I am not drinking much these days. I wouldn’t say I feel better, but I know to go back will only feel worse, and so I am resigned to be content with where I am. Which it is relatively easy if I can take a gap from me and them.
The editing process, and the little nudges, it is also so very satisfying in some way, that it can often cause delight when it comes without pressure. This is therapy for me, and god knows I need that, god should know…after what he did to me.
And it can kick my fucking arse. And bring me right back to ground zero, and I can fight it but it aint worth trying, and so it helps just to write it out, to get it out, to spell it out, show and not tell, show, and not tell.
It can start as easily as it stops, and in it can stroll downhill from there..
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words by me.
image direct by me, created by using nothing but the words from this piece in wonder.ai
