I found the major problem with Seer; the ending I currently have has got to go. thats 1,477 words I toiled and sweated over getting into this story and they have to change. theres some stuff I can salvage. like this section:







He’d seen on the televised news that one lane of tunnels on Route 70 would be closed for minor repairs. After a huge line of coke, he typed:

A tunnel will fail, the south path ceases

Carriages will be incarcerated in earth and stone

The screaming multitude will be silenced

A lone survivor will speak

Another line of coke, this one a massive rail. His eyes rolled underneath his eyelids momentarily, then dropped back into place. It was 11:45AM—an hour and a half until showtime.

A bit of locally trivial uselessness currently making the rounds was the dog problem. Packs of curs were spotted in the streets and allegedly responsible for the strewn garbage covering alleyways in the mornings, blazing on cocaine, Billy wrote:

Dog of Aries teeth rip flesh

Baying moons set on high ever watching

Billy eyed the clock. Five ‘til twelve. Feeling edgy, he saved the entry and bundled-up his dope and the newspaper and headed for the basement. Time to wait out his supposed death.








I got a lot of what I want, and its simply simple that Billy has to die (that is apparent from the first paragraph, sorta), but to do it the way I now have would be silliness...but, I do believe I have the answer. I wont tell you here; Ill post the story when its done-----if its ever done.

seems like it sits idle for 1 or 2 weeks, then I slam it for a few days or a week or so...right now Im bout in the middle of the 'week or so' slamming portion and loving it. shit, I stayed up friday night til almost 4 tweaking and adding and reading and rereading. yesterday I kinda was lame but I managed a good bit of work [on both the story and the ceiling]. today is questionable cuz I got the aformentioned ceiling in the kitchen that needs my attention, a mother coming for a visit that will get my attention whether its needed or not, and a swollen jaw from an infection that doesnt hurt but is driving me crazy. I look like Powers Booth on the right side of my face.

so anyway, Ill keep what I can from the 1,477 words and shitcan the rest. without a long fare-thee-well Ill cut it and drop into the void of delete where all the pther dead stories sit and wait for resurgence.

plus, I had some cool stuff in version 1 of this story Ill sift through and use if possible.

I gotta go...get outta my sleepyclothes and into work pants, straighten-up a few things, entertain my parent, then who knows what'll happen afterwards. either [1] a movie or [2] a few chapters from my grisham book or [3] a nap or [4] work on Seer or [5] get drunk with my bud who's been calling non-stop for a few days cuz he knows I got some good stuff fot the head or [6] an odd combo of all that.

seems I got some kinda anniversary I should be thinking about but I cant remember the exact day---so Ill forget it for now ;)