Looking For Some Work


          Looking For Some Work

                              by  W. R. Schaefer Jr.

She was an old soul with a broken heart
I was a broken-hearted man
Who needed a place to make a start

I tipped my hat and asked her, "How do you do?"
She sipped from her glass and asked;
"Are you too good to be true?"

I said, "I could do the things you don't want to."
She gave me a steady gaze...
No! She was looking right through!

She nodded, "The Mister died, four years ago tomorrow...
You could free me up a bit."
I'm no psychic, but inside I felt her sorrow.

She gazed longingly; "When can you begin?"
I felt a crazy desire so strong, it was wrong...
Then I spoke again, "The first thing in the mornin'"

Then she looked at me, proposing; "Let's have a drink to that."
I didn't have a moment to choose and a lesser time to think...
She winked at me in agreement. I said, "I suppose it's my weakest link."

The next thing I knew, we were all tangled in her bed.
As much as I knew it was true, she'd covered each angle in her head
I held her all night. Yes, she was blue but lovely too. "So," I said, "I'm loving you instead!"

We share a love that was born one lonely night
I love this gentle lady with all my might...
She holds my attention. She's the focus of my sight!

                               ⇏ 😼ᑕᐞᐪ ᑨᑭᑙ⇍by© ᙎ.ᖇ.ᔢᑦᑋᐞᓫԲᓫՀ ⧫⬲

The Ring On The Rung


The Ring On The Rung

Lyrical~  by  W. R. Schaefer Jr.

How do you feel
inside your heart of hearts?
Is this all real?
...Waiting to be wrangled apart

What is illogical
is the way you try to bind our minds
Not to sound so philosophical
but, something will break loose from this grind

Was I to make a guess?
It's elemental, people see reality
Why not confess?
Anyway, you're going to pay, it's plain to see

Honestly, if it were up to me
we would aggress...
Why can't you see
that you've reduced us to this unaccepted mess?

We've grown accustomed to your attacks
You had better watch your backs
The solidity of our society... has cracked!
We can see you now as you try to distract

The wounds are sore...
and we really can't believe you anymore
There is the door...
You have depleted us, our trust in you, for sure

It has been a long time...
since there was any sense of reason or rhyme
I will own mine...
I should have noticed at some point along the line

I am quite certain...
I'd have seen you were affected in the mind
Why did no one stop the hurting?
Why was everyone connected by such binds?

Then again,
it's just too easy to pretend that all was fine
Barstool spins...
I'm going to mention this to that old friend of mine

Didn't we all share a single plan;
The pursuit of happiness?
Wasn't there, at the time that we began...
a hint or less, so we all could have avoided this distress?

Did nobody see...
that it was up to you and me,
to pass on this very key...
to them... eventually?

+ (C) nicotopcat.blogspot.com +






WILD * PASSION


   Chapter I                                       WILD 𝛟 PASSION

                                                                                        ~ by W. R. Schaefer Jr.`*

I moved to a local nudist Motel where the rent was very low. Yes. I knew you'd ask. The room was covered in cockroaches I learned, after being there for a few weeks, I was one of the majority of the sexes in the building, being male. Sadly, I learned there were only two female tenants. Perhaps only one. One guy said he swears that the one, has been dead for about two days. Being that he hasn't seen her buy a soda, as she generally did whenever she was flirting with him. His name is Harold. I can't imagine any girl going after a man named Harold. It's so not sexy. For God's own sake, be a Harry! I wish I could have found some simplicity. I tried so very hard... I let myself be unnecessarily tortured for the sake of wanting to feel what it means to get your hands dirty. Filthy!... Leastway greedy. So I began with the very marrow!

Like living in this F-----g Motel. Two girls! I'm not a downlow sort of freak. Anyhow, there is a chain of order here which is supposed to be kept regardless if it either rains in hell, or if Elvis returns. That is a commonwealth tax, for we people (we, as tenants) who are in utter desperation for money. The tax was a surety kitty. The cash put aside for a surprise need. Only this tax (cash) was even more difficult to come by. In fact, the legend is, it has never been accessed by anyone who now inhabits the Roche Motel. As amusing as that name was, it fit as well. It's been said that there is only a single roach here, but that it is a quantum creature, capable of assuming occupation of two or more spaces at any given time! Oh yeah! That (needy) tenant,' "commonwealth tax" accrued, must be up in the mega-numerical heights by this time, I had only been paying in since I moved into this hell hole (a fact I'll make plain later...), and I plan to access that money for some purpose. I'll have a strategy soon enough. It's going to be for something big. A limousine to cart us around to our uptown nudist orgies? We'll see...

  I paid the extra rent to intentionally disclude a roommate. A very large part of my deliberate rejection of a roommate was so I would have a private bathroom. It's more of a preference than a need. That goes for my not being subjected to the odor of another person's bowel movement. Such could be counted on like the precise movement of a watch from a Swiss timekeeper. Harold, who is... although I don't have hatred or phobia of a morbidly heavy individual, I do not wish to smell his s___ either. Therefore, as I informed him to the tone of which I feel as if, I alone was hearing myself; "I do not share my freakin' toilet!" He continued his mindless banter. "All the other bathrooms are being used. We have a common 'share a toilet' policy here in the Roche!" For a moment there I remembered why I liked that name, Roche. They were the original distribution brand of Valium. How Harold made me wish I had 10mg right now. "Harold. Leave my apartment now." He spoke back at me; "But I haven't moved my bowels yet. I think I'm going to....." I cut him off cold, "Get...OUT OF HERE!" He disappeared so fast I don't believe a foot touched the carpet. God bless him and his irritable bowel syndrome, as well.

   Syphilis who was the lovely lady who ran the front desk regularly at night. (We affectionately referred to her as Phyllis, because, who was so weird that they thought that Syphilis was a good name for their daughter?) Other than act as a switchboard operator, or Secretary, I can't imagine what exactly she could find to do, is that the rooms of the Motel were entirely occupied by we nudest's. Also, because we were all along in age, a subject Which would discredit anyone who suggested, that they were being spied upon. Who in the world would feel much, if any empathy toward another of us, but we, ourselves? Who was so aware of the hell we faced every day of being just so dirt poor?  Times were often so bad, that if somebody had a slice of cold cheese pizza, that would likely be all the poor soul had eaten all day. Without exaggerating in the least way, it wasn't a pleasant existence. Some nights when we all met up in the lobby to shoot the breeze, our conversations tended to turn dark, not unlike the night sky. That was so true too, but some of us weren't aware of, or that, another of us had passed away overnight, or on that specific day. No. It was no joke at all to live on the edge of desperation like we did. We thought we were blessed to have each other. We used to joke one another about how long we'd be dead before one of us took the first bite! We would laugh, occasionally... No joke. Cannibals? What a joke! Not Phyllis. She, nor her actual birth name, was any kind of joke. She was nice. A lovely woman too.

     II

  After a few of us died due to starvation (This was known only to us, sadly), we were more caring and giving of ourselves because some were too proud to admit that they were having a hard time staying fed. Paintball ( he got that name because at any time of the day or night you could happen upon him huffing spray paint from a bag.) was a good dude, other than his habitual misuse of spray paint. We knew he looked out for us lovingly, and we put up with his habit. Many people look at life in a million different ways. Like a crowd of folks staring at a painting, and each deriving several personal feelings and senses toward it. A very wise fool told me, it was exactly the same thing, except that it was entirely different. When someone of us checked out, it was our comic relief for getting past the loss of another"nudest's." (Most of us weren't nudist by choice, we were in fact, just too poor to afford proper clothing. If somebody wore clothes that they might actually have gathered piece by piece, from each of us all, to go to the store, they would have a list including whatever that person jotted onto the list. It was therein, important because we didn't get much. What we spent our pennies on, and a good number of us rolled our own pennies when it was time for drastic measures. Loyal to each other, as we were to a great extent. Whenever it came to buying, or changing pennies into cash, you were basically on your own. Most definitely... but it wasn't unheard of to readjust the rules when the winds in hell blew cold. We knew of those winds only too well... We weren't only poor, we were also nudest's.

  What was worth the absolute most to everybody in the Motel was underclothes. Pants and tees, or if someone passed on, which was too common, and was seemingly gaining in acceleration more recently, than at any time I recalled in the past (though, I might need time to tabulate that...), the tenants who were here longest got the best cut of what was left behind by the dearly departed. Eric the reeker approached me recently with a personal problem with which I was a little flustered by at first. It made me so uncomfortable when he said he was unsettled, praying through his skylight to the Almighty! I never did like to admit defeat, though I was close to being in a submission hold at that point in our intimate chat. "Franco, I look up through to the Holy Father in Heaven watching me, as I sat and prayed in dirty skivvies, way down here, and he has infinite seeing capacity, as well you know." Eric would really need to do some work to keep God from smelling him, with his superior sniffer too. "Do you think there's any possibility that I could get some fresh underwear for my prayer time? I do have my pride." I couldn't help but think how hard he hid it sometimes...

   ''Yes! I know you do, Eric. One of these days I'll take you hunting with me too!" Eric looked puzzled. Then, as if what I actually meant had just touched-down on his majorly-malfunctioning thought mechanism, he was suddenly anxious, and a little ridged acting. He looked to be sulking. Yup! He got the point. Paintball was going by and I stopped him; "Hey Paintball! When Vesper died, did he leave any underwear behind? Don't misunderstand. They are for Eric the reeker. I can't stand for him to be praying out through his skylight, while clad in only shit-stained skivvies, anymore. He's becoming a pain. I figure some new skivvies for Eric is a plus for the overwhelming remainder of humankind!" "You know? I don't think there are. They go like hotcakes around the Motel. But, I agree! Some new underwear for Eric would help the pollution factor, so I'll spring for a six-pack of men's briefs and tee's. What size you think?" "HMmm... I'd guess an extra-large would do."  To which Paintball replied automatically; "Good to go!"

  Anna was a good girl. Well, she was one of the two women yet living, in this down on your luck: nudist' Motel. The Roach Motel in Hell, as the hapless residents referred to it. You would actually need an overview of this place. It's just a sharp turn down a street without any apparent warning for the kids. If there's a sign, it is not easily evident to be read. It's only pot-luck should you see it, or pot-bad-luck, otherwise. Dependant upon whether or not you have any children in the automobile, who are noticing everything there is to possibly see?  When Anna came to the Roche, I didn't think a woman of her exquisite taste would move in here. I certainly didn't think... I mean how could I? She is beautiful, and she's been here a year and counting. I have grown quite fond of her in the time she has shared with us here. What? My name? I have a terrible name. I am embarrassed to say it, to be truthful. I am Ralphy Roche! Well yes, it is Ralph, but I prefer Ralphy. It takes the edge off. I would certainly be very pleased to be; Anna's Ralphy, by any equivalent rate thereof... A vision I would never have realized hadn't I secretly won a massive lottery at a time in my life when I was seeking some sense of a greater truth than wealth. But not wanting to spoil a good story with a hard reality, that is to ruin a good life with money... good life? Good money? I thought I knew something about what was truly good... once. So, I have this infallible vision...

This is the night I plan on seeing Anna's surprise as she walks through those restaurant doors. It is to be the evening of her fortieth birthday!  Please, don't tell her I shared that information with you. I am the actual owner of the Roche Motel! It is, but one of several properties I own. If  Anna would allow me to, I would share it all with her. So what?... I infiltrated my own Hotel by posing as an actual nudist with very good intentions. That being, to lift Anna out of this impoverished state, by surprising her with my truthful proposal of marriage, and the vision of a better life beyond this hellish existence! 

     III

  At first. Well, let's just say I hadn't stayed around or done any such expensive repairs on the Motel Until she came to stay here. She has made a whole new man of me. I was guilty of depriving my other tenants of new (and vital) things, and utilities in working order. She has allowed me to examine my own soul, and discover the error of my ways. The Roche Motel has always been a dump. Now, I'd begun facilitating its evolution into a livable place. I've gotten rid of the bugs which weren't good for the other tenants with breathing problems. Paintball is the only one of my tenants who I suspect is still using. It's too bad because he is a good-hearted guy who needs a chance, if not a kick in the pants, to help him realize he is playing a game, hinging upon his own life and death. I personally don't believe he realizes (or cares) what he is actually doing to himself. Nor, do I believe for one moment, that he doesn't know how much we love him. Soon now, we will attempt an intervention with those of us who care too much to let his brain cells sizzle! Naah! He loves huffing paint too much to deprive him...(?) What am I? Crazy too? Truthfully, even if at the end of trying, were he to fail to stop, would I actually through him out? Probably not! But, don't tell him, because we would surely like it if he could stop it... 

   Ahh! Here comes lovely Anna to dine with me. This is my favorite locally owned restaurant. It isn't part of a big chain. They serve good food here and it is very good. They have a large and excellent choice of wines as well. I had been planning on bringing Anna here for some time. We were very entertained by a violinist who serenaded us, and we danced a few slow dances which made me sure Anna had read my mind. I know she felt my heart as it beat when I was close to her. Man! She may think I have a heart condition!...

It was a nice night which resulted in my indulging in a little too much wine. It necessitated my calling a backup ride with a good friend who was only too glad to do the favor. Anna held my hands firmly on the tops of her knees and looked me directly in the face during the ride back to the 'Roche'. Then I revealed my true motive for this special night out. I propositioned her in a weak and wounded way?... "What? What is this treatment like I'm a specimen on a microscope slide? What am I supposed to derive from this unusual treatment Anna? Didn't you enjoy the time we spent out? Please, Dear Anna... What gives?..." Her eyes refused to meet mine, and she would not answer...

  Again, Anna reached for my hands, and yet trustingly, I went with her flow. Then out of her mouth came the words that I least expected. Oiled up and with a dose of sugar, sweetness, that I had an inkling of, if only by her not assuring me immediately... She insisted on doing the impossible. Which was to put it in such a way that it would be all right. But, it was never going to be all right between we two again. Never! This was one of the reasons I didn't spend much time at that fleabag hotel since I had actually gone and purchased it!  Oh! That is; until Anna had arrived. She held such promise and 'disillusion of promise' over my own low down existence... To think, just a little while ago I was towering over ''Eric the reeker." I thought by asking Paintball to get him some new briefs to wear while praying, and look decent while addressing God, somewhere up there... through his skylight, was a quick cure for everyone and everything. Apparently, Anna was not beholden to my most intimate state of extreme generosity. Not enough to accept my proposal of marriage, and a much nicer way of life, if I may add... I was beginning to accept the fact that certain things had no varying ways.

"Ralph...(came her urging voice that made me listen, though I knew intellectually, I shouldn't have...) I'm sorry that we are branching out in different directions." By now, we were practically back at the office which was furnished with a fold-out bed that was seeming better to me than Anna's drawn out and depressing speech was, as I was getting very drowsy. "Anna, I'm going to set you aside, in a way that you may not understand right now. Later, when you have thought about this situation; you will say to yourself... or you won't, what a good thing I had done, in ceasing to pursue this matter." She had a bemused look on her beautiful face then, as I recall. Though she was mysterious in many ways, I thought I could tell what she was thinking. Was that only fantasy? Part of her allure? We reached the hotel and I was a bit crumpled, but pulled myself together for the sake of dignity. I did not want to seem wispy in her eyes, after all... Even if I felt desolate to myself at that moment. The earth would have to swallow me whole before that could happen!

  I reached into my trouser pocket and extracted a key on a single link and it's ID printed on it. "Anna. It has been strangely... A peculiar night, and I am very anxious to fall asleep and forget it entirely." "Ralph. Are you horny?" "Anna. Let's not make a mockery. I just told you what I wanted. You can only serve as a hindrance to my getting to sleep." Now, Anna looked as if I had pressed exactly the wrong button, and that I was going to regret pushing it too, in a very big way. Not wishing for things to go very wrong now, I found myself backpedaling, hoping to find a common ground that we could each walk away from this thing while preserving face. "Anna. I know that you are uncomfortable knowing that my idea of what I assumed incorrectly, was where our relationship was going. It was myself who misread it. I'm a bit hurt, but I can pick myself up from the ground and get back on my horse...' Color me understanding, Dear Anna. Rest assured that I will get past this thing."

  Anna stared directly into my eyes. I'll admit. It took a lot of strength for me to avoid her Molotov glare... "Forget about a horse. Let me ride you!" Alright! This woman wasn't going to release me from her hook at all! I began to wonder whether or not she had planned this while I was trying earnestly to be the best gentleman I could be. Could she just be angry because I didn't take her letting me down bad enough for her taste? No. She didn't care about what became of me before, during, or after. She was a good looker who could hide a very calloused heart well! Something told me that the reason she still hadn't settled yet was that she just wasn't through ripping hearts out of there potting yet. Wow! She was a mad cyclone, that unconscionably, uprooted trees as it passed!..."I'm going to unfold my bed and get a late morning snooze. I may sleep until tonight (and, playing an ace for immediate time's sake)... "If you are still interested tomorrow," I glanced at my device that many still referred to as a cell phone, "By that, I mean later today, we will see... if I am indeed horny when!" I was deeply confused by all of this. Could I sort it all out even in my best framing of thoughts?

     IV

Authors overview:

  It bought him some time, but he was wondering where the sweet lady he had fallen head over heels for had gone... Was this a clone? No. Too much YouTube. He fell asleep with her menacing presence like a dark shadow on his dreams. There was almost no way left to prove what she was attempting to do. Even a voice analysis could be reproduced artificially, by some altering of a mechanism or the sort... In any case, all this mental stress had left him weak and frayed. Frazzled. And very tired as well. Though, if he had witnessed the way he was tossing and turning in bed he would have woken up in an exhausted state of body and mind. He said about sleeping; "To hell with it now, but... I've got to get a good night's sleep tonight. I have rents to collect tomorrow, and I do want to make a minor repair at one of my apartment buildings. She should at the very least... be earning my attention!"

  I thought it siphoned a tiny portion of energy from his overworked brain. "Anna Is getting on in age... It just may be that she is serious about me, but wants me on her terms." Oh, s___! Fearfully, he told himself; If think of her and she will come." And, he was talking about the same Anna, who had just driven into the parking lot in the car he helped her finance earlier in the year. Since she possessed no real job, except to occasionally answer a phone for him... Forget taking notes, regardless of the importance. Fax (when that was a thing), or accept a message (mostly hers anyhow). He had her on a nifty healthcare package as well, were one to do the math. All of the pros in one column, alongside all the cons... She wasn't representative of any other employee he had in his pool. Very suddenly, she bore a striking resemblance to that of an enemy. He had set her up, to the contentment of her heart. He now had a serious problem on his hands. What he was doing, or even could do about it remained to be seen, and heard... and spent, or even damaged beyond repair. He had to slow down his mind until it was the correct time, a fleeting sureness of time to meet her at, or on, her level. While looking directly into her eyes, and speaking succinctly to her, without any chance of misconstruing by either (if clarity on that level is even possible). As it had been planned by Ralph, he had a lot of his own, and his Dad's friends as witnesses. Now, in his opinion, her careless words and actions showed her for the gold-digger, he now believed her to be!... Or was this the terrible twist to Ralph's apparent crumbling, of his fragile generosity?... Are we all so prone as to live a lie? As for Ralph, he was a spider caught up in his own web.

  Each word measured and weighed. As if she was receiving sentencing for a crime from a Judge, the full clear and concise words which could in not, the tiniest of possibilities be mistaken to infer any other meaning. Mind you, it was not the mere art of the spoken word. Ralph was speaking to her as it had to be. Before trustworthy witnesses, each one possessing an impeccable reputation and in being without uncertain terms, lightyears beyond reproach. Anna was incapable of any utterance now. anything Anna could say now would only serve to damage her 'undisputable guilt' as it were.

  Ralphy was free of her tentacles now. She was certainly a beauty, by any man's measure. But for how long? His injuries set his mind on a path toward retribution. It was now his personal pain, though inflicted by this truly wretched monster whom he was entirely willing to go to the very ends of the Earth to please, had she simply agreed to marry him, and be willing to abide by his instructions regarding the occupation of the tiny cell inside his heart! Something to which she was not pursuant. He didn't wish to cause her physical injury, regardless of the pain in his heart. He romanticized a more creative and abstract form of punishment for Anna... "I hope she rots like an anchovy!" Now he was entirely given over to hate for the woman he had so adored once, very much, if not but a short while ago.

Aging is cruel and can happen almost overnight. It works overtime when you actually study its effects on someone like Anna, to whom it would result in driving insane incrementally. Ralph would celebrate every new wrinkle her face acquired as if it were a befitting occurrence. Ralph was a lucky man for having such highly thought of and reputable friends (You would need to be high to believe it!) Had Anna not been capable of being a sweet woman like she appeared one minute, the next, a psychopath. Perhaps, we would have seen them as a couple deserving of one another's love. Ralph worked with the staff at the Motel, but it was trouble being there as there were too many repairs eating up his budget for upkeep. Beyond all that, he sort of missed Anna, but accepted on a deep level it wasn't meant to be. He sold the place for a tidy sum which he put into newer and far more profitable Condos, and high-class luxury Apartments. He even bought the restaurant that he took Anna too on a fateful night when he'd arrived at his summary of opinion regarding her character. That, about her being a gold-digger certainly wasn't true. Hadn't he kept that poker face so long, she may have made an immediate attraction? There is no telling the best time for revealing your true feelings. Being that if they are true, any time is right. Both Ralph and Anna lost their minds with acuity. That is a rightful truth...


                                     `*~𝞥⇴Câť😿Ɲıpʼɲ⥞⥷© by 𝐖.ℛ.𝓢𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓮𝓯𝓮𝓻`*~𝛟

+ Wild*Passion is a wisp of smoke off a rotten Anchovy. At least if you were one of these pitiful characters represented in this story. True love is but a brief whisper.
   I've been in love a few times, personally. Sometimes it was nice. In some instances, I felt like a dartboard, attracting pain as the darts sauntered past slowly but sharply. Love is real, but not everyone will know its kindness. Luck? Just desserts? Fickle fate? Luck of the draw? Not all of us will find an inclusion. But be open to it. Otherwise, you may not see it when it rendezvous within your gravity. If it feels right, then I guess you go for it! I'm not your coach! I'm a pumpkin! Best of luck to you though.~W. R. Schaefer Jr.`*+ 








Instrument Of Change

         Instrument Of Change

A Lyrical Composition by W.R.Schaefer Jr.

So, I wrote; I hope to be an instrument of change for the better...

The worse event that could happen is that you disregard this letter
I must admit to my regret, to losing my due rent money on a bet
The Almighty God above me knows I wish I could forget if he'd let,
while the icy cold wind blows, and my clothes are a stiff frozen wet
and I'm old enough to realize without surprise as yet...
that I won't have to read the stupid legend on my grave marker
once the lonely stone has set me on a path much darker, etched
upon the wretched body human, oddly caught up in its own net
Afraid of the mess he's made
 and The Almighty God whom he has not yet met! 

See, my rent money isn't all that's gone, but pride and respect
Soon the mounting evidence is funny too much more than you 
are even able to or rightfully be expected to remember or forget  
so let me be direct; even the elect is one who you cannot detect
My God! He's going to knock those freckles off you!...
Be good but be aware that he can see you there so get no darker
You'll be all alone where there stands erect, no cell tower stretched
across a cold and windy road before you a long-distance dialed
directly to the children, you neglect
 Know that you've been exiled, reviling pile of filth and debt!
...by you know who you never, everlasting will have met!...

-Reconvening in the only one real meaning out there...
↬nıcøtøpçąt.bløgspøt.cøm bƴ©WRS⧫↫

TIRED Of SOMETHING


                                                      Tired Of Something
                                                                                 

Sometimes I grow very tired through absorption of complexed negative energy which I am entirely unaware of until the damage has been produced. I don't wish to rave or even complain about its effect on my whole being, body, mind, and spiritual essence. I do, however, wish to make others aware of this phenomenon in order to allow them to be aware of its presence, of which I have only begun to understand it at all.
  The air becomes heavier when it is present around the unsuspecting person it seems to mindfully drain of energy. My limited experience of such an apparent density in my surroundings has affected my greater ability to familiarize myself with its yet unknown state of origin. Or has it existed in an undetected way all along, and only now making its appearance felt. It certainly evades my sight. it is a nuisance, however...  
  Today I felt exhausted even after sleeping like the dead for what seemed an eternity. Something is physically different about me now. I can sense it. In a way, I am still Michael, but I am not the Michael I was in my memories. Especially in those private thoughts in total silence, which once felt comforting in their privacy. This persists too long.
It is as if I were being remotely manipulated. In a really twisted way of thinking, I almost feel what it must be like to be stalked! ...But by what? There is nothing there...
  Today I return to my chronology with a renewed essence of spirit. I feel deep and profound peace inside. I am convinced that what I was supposing was incorrectly dispelling of my restlessness of mind. It has been a grueling period in my life, but it has abated. My confidence is at an apex of the tallest mountain my mind can conjure. People have noticed this transformation and have shown me signs of being pleased. I've even been called a source up uplifting power. I have come to understand that your state of mind is what governs all else.
  It has been a few days since I last entered an update in my chronology. My absence was no lack of any particularly unwanted thing that purposefully cause any inclination to avoid checking in. The truth behind my lapse was a personal crisis of a loved one, which I am pleased to announce turned around and became a positive thing. As mere mortals, we do run across situations like the one which recently plagued me, and turned out alright, We weren't born with instructions of predicted routes to avoid in life. Truthfully? I find life holds a greater mystique when we are unknowing as to what each day will bring.
  Another space in time. I am in a state of intrigue by what I came across while happily cleaning my quarters today. Underneath some things was a noose! It was at the end of an exceedingly long rope and I can't remember there ever being a time in my many years on this Earth when I could have fashioned such an object in desperation. It was such a mystery that I questioned the people who live inside my building whether they had ever seen it and was subjectively gazed upon in a horrified manner by some, while others dismissed my inquiry as water rolls off a ducks backside.
  I have come to realize many things by this point which hadn't crossed my mind in the former. Nothing is ever as it seems. In fact, I have created a quote that may be used by many others in future times. "It is what it is. But it is not what it was, and it is never what it appears to be." I considered it witty after I played it back inside my mind. To each their own. I wasn't put on this planet, or plain, or whatever technicality you choose to summarize the formation of this ground beneath us. All that I am certain of is the fact that I woke up, and was still sucking air when I did so...
  ...Drained today again. Energy Vampire at large in the area surrounding my location. Is it any wonder why we feel especially lacking in vitality at certain, yet mysterious times. When I mentioned my drained sensation to my lady friend, she said it was not a wonder. Though to be truthful I didn't expend very much energy on making love to her. Another thing... Did you ever feel that for no tangible reason, you are suddenly creeped out by the distinct feeling that you are being watched? Oh, I realize that such is the hallmark of our times. But when you are alone, in a reasonable surety of the state of your singular presence... Are you?
  My living quarters are in a much-needed state of the kind that necessitates tidying up at my earliest possible convenience. No scrubbing and even no dusting is the thing. While I was reading a novel I have become interested in, I got that feeling again. It was a weird sensation. Not the energy vampire per se, I don't know though. Maybe... This was the eat me up, the feeling of being observed from an unknown place. Perhaps by the invisible man. I don't know and I can't be sure of anything but the deep feeling through to your soul swear to God type of thing. Listen. I'm not nuts! I don't makeup stories to entertain audiences with this violated state of being I have in me. Oh... Go to hell if you,... I'm sorry!
  While I was thinking about my moodiness when I last checked in with my soul, I began to absolutely lose my cool again. I did clean up my quarters after searching fruitlessly for a hidden camera... I don't know what's wrong with me anymore. I am considering seeing somebody help me with all of this baggage. It can't hurt. I can't hurt... anymore, because I'm at the end of my rope...Yeah. It was mine but it was only there for an emergency! Am I healthy in the mind? I've stressed a tad. Oh. Please don't look at me in that, "Man... You are nuts," way. I'm not. I have been through a lot recently. Please, try to understand.
  A fictional thought process...                                                                 ~Michael`*
  ɓƴ©W.R.Schaefer Jr.                                             

                                Ǿ⟻⥺😾ⓒ ℭ∀ƫ ℕℑᵱ'ᶇ ᴀĸᴀẆ.ᴙ.ⱾᴐȟǺɇᶂɇƦ⟻⥺😾 

                                                     


1. ABORTION At ISSUE * 2. The PRESIDENTIAL Press

                        ABORTION At ISSUE

Our country's abortion history has been a procession of court battles and angry arguments and other deep and heartfelt exchanges of sentiment surrounding this issue since Union days. I can say by judging its oppositions emotionally charged vitality, and the ensuing fight that is women's right to choose what she does with her body as a matter of privacy, with my confidence and collective memory intact, this is one fight that is far from over.

  In the '1700s,' perhaps it had no name. By the '1800s' abortion simply described the termination of a pregnancy, and was not yet counted as anything more than a matter in passing. There was an uncounted number of reasons why a woman might possibly be pregnant (I'll bet we can name one). One must realize premarital sex existed quietly but certain. Saloons were a common place to find a woman who would trade sex for payment too. Though downplayed, it has always existed in some form or another. It must serve to make us feel fortunate.
  Illinois was first to hand down punishment for terminating a pregnancy by ingesting a drug. Up until 1827, that was the common way to make sure there were no inconvenient or otherwise unwanted surprises in store. If it moved or kicked, it got the boot. Three years in prison was now the penalty for preventing a birth using what was called the "Female monthly pill." None the less, it remained common throughout the 19th century. Probably more too, because several other states followed Illinois's lead.
  By 1860, and up until a grainy 1880, the act of terminating a pregnancy had become a
very serious offense. Sadly, it was not due to any moral public outrage as one might suspect. The physician's trade organization, later to become the AMA felt slighted by allowing a chance which was obviously their domain, to get lost like dollar signs fading on the horizon. This was endorsed too, by none other than the Catholic church in solidarity of condemnation. I guess it was a terrible thing unless a Doctor was attending an abortion then.
  By the turn of the century, the entirety of the United States was firmly in opposition to any pregnancies being terminated by anyone other than a certified Physician. In comparison to the historical records which were in existence concerning the forming of America, the ball was moved from the woman's side of the court, and by some means moved without any obvious play, into the abiding hands of what was to become our own Uncle Sam. Some call him Big Brother, but we have gotten to reference that entity the US government.
  Throughout its storied times which have been passed down through generations, it has taken its share of strokes and blows depending on the source doing the passing. Early on, a territory we have come to understand, much like a child does through its lessons and interpretations of graduating personal experience. We have made mistakes by which we have internalized and hopefully learned from. As any one person will do in attempting to save face, we have lied to our young and ourselves about shame born of truth. Denial will always insist it is a remedy. The ingredient is known well by all who have used it. It is almost never shared, but it serves only to cover a gash which in time bleeds through.
  As time marched in its various paths, and the struggles of the great depression incubated as its pain was vastly felt but for those with plenty, who are unlike the masses as can be shown by a brief study, were they as visible as is the so-called invisible homeless. Enter the 1960s which woke the sleeping, as the gunshot that ended the Kennedy Presidency in a rude fashion. It was and is the thing we are not supposed to discuss, even now. There is too much information, not to mention money. The buck stops exactly where it began. Even with the truth known finally, such as the participants that shocked few so much, as it angered many... There is just too much money on the table demanding silence, in its traditionally menacing way. Not to stray too far off topic, rich women do not notify Doctors to abort...
  There was something akin to a loss of control throughout the length of the Vietnam conflict. People wondered why that debacle was allowed to escalate into overdrive without any sense that seemed even somewhat tangible. Today we know that the banker's war machine was being operated like it was intended to all along, inflicting maximum damage to our country as a byproduct of accumulating untold wealth to its financiers. Citizens meanwhile buried their heads in a hole called drugs, as wounded soldiers got very addicted to the amazing pain relief of the Opium derivative morphine. It wasn't a well-kept secret that Heroin was also available cheap in Jungleland. An army (pun intended) of Heroin addicted Veterans came home, each with bad habits that seemed to blend into the already drug-crazed society at large. We all felt used and confused. I personally felt it was a stroke of luck that the military stopped its drafting on the month before it came too me. Anticipating the draft kept me busy drinking at the local bar Alcoholically, I was experimenting with Psychedelics at that point in my personal history. The US was a mess...
  Everything that was traditional seemed to change. The drinking age for my generation was 18 Y.O. It was a backlash of a country that said: "If they are old enough to fight and die, they are old enough to drink Alcohol." Accountability for breaking laws was also now widespread. The climate of confusion was unsettling. In 1973 a new abortion law was put into practice nullifying a Texas statute which banned abortion in a blanket fashion. This front page bit of legislation became known as Roe vs. Wade. Abortion, which had been unlawful since the late 19th century, changed too. As if carrying the permissive essence of an apologetic nation. To quote the Sorceror Aleister Crowley's Book of the law, after he had famously spoken with alleged Black Magic Deities he had conjured: "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law." Such was a persistent spell that permeated society in a complete sense. Throughout much of America was an acute relief, that to abort a pregnancy was now a right protected by the 14th amendment of the US constitution. An old saying comes to me now: 'Life is for the living.' It most definitely is not for the aborted...
  It didn't seem to matter to me as a young man, that sex was only a source of pleasure. If I was with a girl that I didn't wish to have a child with, there was always abortion. So, what did it matter to me if the law was well known to me and all of those girls, who weren't in a mental state of feeling victimized? They too felt new freedom previously unknown to all of us. Was that we were living in so tempestuous to us that it's now like a timebomb that is seen so differently through grown and mature eyes? To me, it seems a grotesque joke played on us by the invisible rich, who were fanning the flames of their club called: 'Share The Guilt.' We were indifferent to our decadence then. I did share in the guilt. I am not the same man I was when I was growing up. I felt like a gourd, which I consider a strange growth among the other growing things. I never thought they had any redeeming quality. They were weird and so was I. There was something about those years which seemed to culminate in 1975, when the timebomb detonated and left me awkward and in ruins...
  It never felt good to think about abortion as a possible choice. It embodied an erroneous sort of thought, wrought with guilt to the hilt! Excuse my spontaneous rhyming as I write poetry too. It's a thing I love now, in my twilight years... I will be 63 on Dec.,1. I am not an old man trying to come to terms with my abortion connection. I have done so, in spite of the odds being heavily stacked against doing so. Norma McCovey, aka Jane Roe, and her Dallas, Texas District Attorney, Henry Wade, who was the defendant to her plaintiff in the landmark decision which changed the country forever... Or is there a silver lining to the interior. But it seems so unlikely that California and Texas had passed such extreme restrictions for abortion just before Roe v Wade stood as if it were a huge bolt cutter which shouted "No more enforcement of abortion laws in the United States of America," as it would effectively change abortion policies that weren't even part of the territory!
  Now the flames of dissenting opinions are being heard because of its moral reform that just may have gone too far. Even when recent polls have apparently shown that the country is still strongly united behind early termination without government interference, others appear to favor the actual termination of healthy infants after they have been birthed! Republicans have passed bills protecting the lives of survivors of abortion attempts. There is no doubt that an attempted abortion can seriously harm its survivor. The fierce and emotional battles ensued in 2016, with Democrats leveraging to attempt to oust the POTUS as a token of bad taste for his Anti- Abortion stance. Republicans are sounding the alarms and do wish to oppose and eliminate abortion. As a result, the Civil Liberties Union have filed a lawsuit on behalf of EMN, the Women's Surgical Center in Louisville, Kentucky. It stands as a final bastion of hope for its proponents because it is there only remaining abortion provider. Bill 50 still protects a woman's "Right" to induce abortions.
  As heartless as it sounds, Democrats blocked a Senate Bill that would prevent infanticide... But Vermont is proposing the most radical abortion law in the world.H- 0057 and its 91 cosponsors intends to put forth a bill with limitless abortions of those viable and otherwise totally healthy babies. This came on the heels of a similar law passed in NY (2 weeks earlier). Just days earlier than that a Virginia law which intended to terminate after birth was struck down. That law said a fetus would have no rights protecting it... Experts said it could be the beginning of gruesome experimentation...
  VP Mike Pence wrote in a recent editorial that no moral person would embrace infanticide, it is morally reprehensible and evil. He went on to say the Democrats had fallen away since 2003 when they favored a partial birth/ abortion ban. There were cheers in Albany NY airwaves in regard to the idea of infanticide. In Virginia, in defense of the indefensible. We should be moving away from such barbaric practices... Pence wrote, "The NY and Virginia late-term abortion bills should be a call to action for all Americans," and then solemnly added; "May God have mercy on our nation."
  Nebraska Senator Ben Sasse said; "We have gone too far to support termination after birth." 
H.R. 4712, 115th Congress. Born alive protection Act, who are few. The Senate Bill to stop Infanticide failed when opposed by Democrats in the Senate. However, they failed to get the 60 votes needed to overcome the filibuster rule and be passed into law.      
  What about the Hippocratic oath? They say they won't discriminate. Then the utter nonsense of Medicare for all. On race? Then it expands to categorizing sexual orientation. Then gender ID. To Sex stereotyping, To pregnancy and yes; Termination too! Physicians who decline to terminate would have their license revoked, and all of the states would recognize that. Medicare for all is utopia. Utopia is a contrast to reality, conscience, and freedom. Roe supporters should read the bill. 
  President Trump is an opponent of legal abortion, and that is the cause of his struggles.
Since Norma McCovey (Roe) died in 2017, at the age of 69, it has been the reason for the weakening of abortion support. The climate of the strongly worded debate has passed with Norma. She was, after all a legend in the abortion arena. She was triumphant during a time when great changes were occurring that set a lot of minds in a state of deep pondering
and intentionally protesting things that should have been changed to suit a better purpose. I
dare say that there are those of us who were changed by her in an adverse sort of way. One thing is as certain as it is wise: Never speak ill of the dead. We may all be reunited in a time and place we can't even fathom...
                                         *ꝇ˾˲ 😸 W.R. Schaefer ậƘąⓒ ČặȚɲǏpꞋƝ˾˲
  

                   * The PRESIDENTIAL Press *                         


  In a fairly recent tweet, the President declared: "The Democrats position on abortion is now so extreme, that they don't mind executing babies after birth." I have been in his corner long before the surprise victory in the Presidential race, as well as during the bizarre attempts to silence him by whatever is circulating in their extreme imaginations. Democrats fear that he will undo all of their intentional trappings to assure they get richer and without all the practical circumstances that generally precede such a befalling of this magnitude.
  President Donald J. Trump has made it very clear that he has inherited an awful mess when he became the 45th President of the USA. Here is a man who is ten years my senior, but for the love of the country that gave him so much, that he would, if left to his own devices, work himself to death. I don't believe that anything is by pure chance. He has gone far, in the sense of changing my mind toward thinking in these terms. He is stubborn because he has a strong desire to keep his promises. If there comes a time when the cold-blooded Socialist who parade under the more acceptable banner of Democrats do succeed in having the President somehow removed from office, it will not be in time to alter what we have, as people learned about how we have been shafted in the meanwhile, by the very plot alluded to by J. F. K. before he was eliminated from public perception, after his veiled warning about the Illuminati, of which the mega-rich have operated while dominating the events and economies of the world, as in what seems to be their enjoyment and/or pet project.
  Also, unbeknownst to the people and citizens too busy to look around, and that class is shrinking quickly now, the so-called controlled weather experiment has failed. The Fakenews networks would have us believe we are in a state of climate change or global warming, whichever you and I believe will make up their confused minds. In actuality, large areas of the Earth are owned by the 'banking cartel.' In case you haven't guessed what is going on in these restricted areas, where one  might find any weather modification equipment known to man, and then some, very secretive personnel who are paid a lot for their loyalty, follow instructions by the paid loyal specialist who understand the functions of such equipment to a fault. Some of it you've probably guessed at while some are advanced beyond known technology. Suffice to imagine where those untold trillions mingle with Black Ops, which are the resulting technology of the Black Budget. The 'budget' doesn't exist of course. These criminals have amassed more wealth than God... Just joking. He doesn't have any use for the root of all evil.
  Returning the focus back to the President, we start to realize how instrumental he is in jamming up the globalists (NWO) plan for humanity, which, without Trump, is void a future. He said he didn't want to be President. He would have left that job to somebody else unless thing became to bad for him to ignore. "I'll tell you what, we wouldn't be cheated like we are." When he was elected, it wasn't a minute too soon. It was very close to being too late. It was his final calling and he was sharp enough to realize how late it had gotten. Humiliation? I'm certain that in some of the ways pop culture has portrayed him may have broken his skin, as might occur by being bitten by a dog. He has mastered the art of being in lofty positions during his life. It has all been practical experience for the logical boss. If you can appreciate the man's perseverance and unusually efficient work ethic and are big enough to accept that he doesn't always bite his tongue, then you too have achieved a milestone in your own life.
  Am I a conspiracy theorist? I don't expect everyone to think in such an abstract vision of thought. I draw my conclusions based on my observations, such as you do but in my own way. There are instances that I retain in my memory that helps manufacture my personal views about a particular subject. Be that subject a person or a thing that I can drop anchor on, and when that subject arises in its carnation, I must admit I am a good study of things. I am gifted too, I guess. That was a good guess! ...Joking. I like expressing my opinion of
a given subject once I have gathered enough information to understand what I am expressing. I dislike taking notes during researching subject matter because I scribble and have difficulty reviewing my notes. This is why generalizing is my favorite form of writing about particular knowledge. It is a freestyle wrapping and unraveling of my thoughts. I also enjoy writing short situational fiction. I am drawn to the dark side but am practicing other areas of different genre's. As a practicing poet, because we are always practicing, the very dark subject matter has cropped up less by now, and I occasionally write a poem or a bit of prose that satisfies me on a pleasing level.

                               *~-|*ℬy~WRSⅽℎAℯℱℯℜ ⓒa㎄ 🇨🅰TᕡіҎʼᕡ`*
  








   

The Singular Sailor

    The Singular Sailor       by  W. R. Schaefer Jr. I am taking this ship out to sea I've forgotten the way to be free Will I find myst...