My Writing’s Become Foreign

Feature photo by Simon Zhu (unsplash)

I’m writing a book. Here’s the beginning of my radical thought processings behind the telling stories…

January 31, 2019

If your dead relatives came back for a second chance, do you feel they’d pursue their dreams this time? And imagine if their close ones understood their story, their reason; at what point would the butterfly effect? History as it’s told, is often bought as it’s sold—rewritten and resold.

Like the ignorance in most, people today are no different than the original fools of gold. Don’t let history confuse you, because even in the best of stories, without context, its purpose is blurry.

The history of one, may victimize the other for pun. We see it on the News. It’s today’s fantasy and people do it for stupid political views.

That’s insane to me.

I’m writing the perfect story and the world will read it just right. I get carried away about the story I created of this peculiar black guy. He can fix the world via remote dummy’s. He’s not a hero, just an honest man. Most will suspend their beliefs in joy, because researching isn’t enjoyed. Repeatedly thinking, how an immigrating black man prospers in America, and does it annoyed.

I’ll explain social media to our intolerable fools, so people won’t go deleting accounts and unfollowing me fooled.

The story is about foreign intelligence. Not geographically—this intel’s from a place we’re all first born to see. It’s the same place our past loved ones took their last breaths in peace.

And about butterflies. Just watch, you’ll see…


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