A southern gothic game of thrones.

 When I was a kid I was fairly inept… my older sister was a near Olympian level athlete. And now she is a multi millionaire (owning dozens of businesses and featured in magazines). And I was super morbildy obese barely articulate and a borderline ostracized zombie like causality to television.

I wanted to be a protege but was more a Owen Wilson character Eli Cash in the royal Tentamboums in my family hierarchy.

And now I anonymously share my blog under the radar of my family except for a passive aggressive aunt who follows it and calls me a liar when addressing points I bring up.

Things don’t always play out the way we want. But still we persist.

I have started another blog which is more private but out there for those looking.

While I don’t want to share it here… because ultimately it does not matter… I will likely try to post on here more regular again. 

Because there is people who consistently read this blog which is going into two decades old. And now having had almost a hundered thousand unique visitors…. And the last few months of late last year when I was sharing regularly it was averaging ten thousand visitors a month. (Which is neat.)  I think I want to be honest with what my goals are with this thing and maybe get back to sharing fiction on here. 

I been writing a lot and there is a miniature skirmish game I am developing and have shared an early draft of on itch under the name Drew Freak (for those interested it is called Grim Metal Bedlam).

Also still working on my novel Primordial Maximum. Though not as much the last week… But still hoping to get back on the horse with that project and write more soon.

I have so many blogs going and also journal daily so I don’t know what I will share here. But I think that I would like o maybe review more books and maybe write some short stories as I work on my larger writing projects.

I know my stream of consciousness style rambling without properly structured paragraphs are not for everyone and yet people (which is as nearly as alarming as silence used to be still read them, so…).

I am now reaching the point where normally I would rap up and share but I don’t think things like this post are really even fragments so let’s dig into the nitty gritty of my life.

I miss being around people but I think I am done with music for right now. People were responding to me when I went out to perform and I think there is a life waiting for me in that direction but it not one that I am longing for at this moment. I don’t want to spend my late thirties and forties drinking and smoking… or hanging out in bars… they make me uncomfortable.

Combined with my lack of transportation I was walking quite a bit to go out and perform and I could barely stand on my right heel at the end of that experience a couple of months ago.

I am getting old and whether it is too late or not to pick up the pieces of that former life, I don’t know… but I want to write novels right now and short stories. I like drawing and painting as well but my heart is in fiction and its consequinces. 

My parents and my aunts and uncles are all getting old and I built my life around them stubbornly trying to fit in to a southern gothic game of thrones. And everyone is leaving me behind.  Ether to the grave or success by late game capitalism standards which is it’s own kind of death.

I know I have paranoid schizophrenia and  I really have tried to do what I can Inspite of my diagnosis. I have lost almost a hundred pounds in the last few years and aim to lose more. Written and recorded over a thousand songs. A half a dozen novellas and a couple of hundred paintings/illustrations.

Whether there is value in them is not for me to decide… but I tried as my brother said. I think he meant it as an insult but that is the way musical chairs in Westeros. 

I have spent most of a year possibly a hundred and twenty days to a hundred and fifty out of the last three sixty five helping my parents watch my niece and nephew so my little sister can go to school. I did it for no compensation a few times having to bring my own drink and food to spend six hours helping my aging parents with a task I get no credit for. 

But still my family only respects money and I am doing my best to help them inspite of how they view and treat me and I am likely to lose my disability if the midterms are won by the nazi like party that desire to end social security. 

Though those kinds of stressors don’t matter very much because it feels like the world is ending whether it is or not.

I just don’t care for much other than writing and reading at this point in my life. 

I am not suicidal by any means… only frustrated. 

I think I will try to post on this blog on Wednesday and Friday every week from now on… but if I miss a day or so… it will be ok it always is.

Peace and love.