I've always felt safer in small towns. I grew up in one and now, I raise my children in one. There's something comforting about shopping at the local grocery store. Employees may not know you by name but they always know you. They ask about your day and family. They ask small talk questions but not because that's their job but because it's what you do in a small town. Usually, you'll run into someone you know whether it's a friend of yours, a co-worker or even one of your child's teachers. I always feel safe in my little grocery store... until I didn't.
One time in my life have I felt cornered. Have I felt that I might be in danger while in the comfort of my little safe place grocery store. I was doing some shopping, wandering the aisles as I do. I had a cart and was picking up quite a bit of stuff so I was going up and down each aisle. I reach the cooler with the milk and grab a gallon. As I turn down an aisle, I notice someone is behind me. It's not someone that I know but it someone that I have seen before. It's a man that I have often seen walking around town; usually to or from this little store. Not a big deal, people walk down the same aisle all the time at the store. I continued on. Up and down a few more aisle. This man is still behind me; keeping a distance but still very much in the same aisle as me each and every time. He only has one thing in his hand; an energy drink or soda or something like that and through all the aisles that he's been in with me, he hasn't picked up anymore groceries. The last aisle of this store is the frozen section. I needed something from frozen so I make my way down the aisle, from the back of the store towards the front so I can turn and come out right by the checkout area. As I'm looking in the freezer, remember which Hot Pocket the kid had asked for, I notice the man is roughly 3 freezers down looking into the freezer but side-eyeing me. I put the Hot Pockets in my cart and turn to head towards the front. I watch from my peripheral view that he turns to follow me; again, not adding any groceries. "WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME?" I shout at him. Surprising him. He responds with "I'm not following you", and becomes immediately timid. As if overwhelmed and over it. I continue to inform him that he was following me. "You have been in every aisle that I have been in and you haven't picked up anything except that one drink. Leave me the fuck alone and stop following me." Then I headed towards the checkout. Once, I was to the cashier, I see the man is speaking with another employee and I tell her that "the man over there is probably complaining about me because I yelled at him for following me". I paid, gathered my things, and left. As I was leaving, a friend of mine is heading into the store. He does his usual and says hi and asks how I am. Once I start speaking, he can visibly see that I'm shaken up and upset so I inform him of the incident that occurred inside. He asked me if I knew who they were or if I could describe them. I described the man to the best of my abilities and informed him that he's usually walking around town and blah blah. We parted ways and I went home. I told my husband all about what happened and he wishes I would have called him but I don't think that way at all and I always fly by my instinct and my instinct was to yell and scream and make a damn scene and I did just that. I must add that I continued to go to my local store because I don't scare away from shit and I never ran into the man that followed me again.
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A month or so ago, I had the idea for a random article. The subject was the evolution of marijuana and how's it's gone from ditch weed to dispensaries. I reached out to a few of my fellow potheads for their insights on the subject and I gathered my own thoughts.
I was having a major issue getting it started though. I came up with a title and the story but I couldn't start it with Once Upon A Time... Okay, I could, but I really didn't want to so I waited. I'd pull my notebook out and I'd try to start and it wouldn't work so I'd tuck the notebook away or write about something else. Then, finally, the block was broken and I wrote a decent article. I was excited about it. I shared it with my friend that helped with some of the input and I sent it to my husband for him to read. They both thought it was a great read and enjoyed it. I emailed it to my sister-in-law's wife and she really liked it but she asked me why I wrote it. I'm usually all for answering questions, I enjoy talking so it's my cup of tea and I do enjoy tea. However, when that question resonated in my head, all I think was Because it needed to be written. So, this blog entry is to touch base on why I write what I write. The easiest answer to this is simply because if I don't write it, who will? Every person has their own view and their own perspective on every situation and every scenario. Every person has their own voice; both written and vocal. Anyone can write and no two people will every write the same and that's something that is both amazing and overwhelming. With so many people thinking that their story is greater than anyone else's the world is becoming flooded with writers and I love it. I love that so many people are trying to find themselves in words but I think so many people have misconceptions about what a writer does and what it actually is. Anyone can self-publish and become an author... that is not a big deal anymore. Not saying that you shouldn't be proud if you have taken the time to write a whole book, edit it, read it again, revise it, create a cover, do all the work and publish it for yourself... THAT IS AMAZING and THAT DESERVES PRAISE!!! As harsh as these words may sound: You most likely will not become famous for what you write. No one will know who you are unless they personally know you. It hurts to realize this, trust me. As big as this pill is to swallow; it's better to know this now and have a drink ready than to be blind-sided and choke. I don't write to become famous. I don't write to make money. I don't even write to publish. I write because it needs to be written and if I don't write it, no-one else will. I use to think that I would sit down, write a book, send it to a publisher, they would love it, it would get published, I'd become a famous author, and that would be my Happily Ever After. As awesome and amazing as that would be, that is not my reality. I will write my book and I will send it off but I will not bank my future on a book that still sits unwritten. I will write what needs to be written because I have always been an author and I don't need to write a novel for that to be true. My words won't write themselves and my characters can't exist if I don't make them. The stories I have to share may not make me famous but they do make me a writer and that's what I've always said I was. Dear Dearest Diary,
Where do I begin? I want to spill their secrets. I want to tell their sins. I want to show their truth, Unveil their deception. Honest is lost, A foreign conception Dear Dearest Diary, Tell me how to deal. To face this guilt for knowing. For knowing what is real. It’s heavy on my heart. It’s repeating in my head. The lies that they are living. The life they have misled. Dear Dearest Diary, I feel I must come clean. The weight of their deceit, Is taking over me. I want to rip the stitches. I want to break the seal. I want to blare their truth. I want it all to spill. Dear Dearest Diary, I promise I have grown. I’ll write it in my diary, And leave this wound alone. Karma is a friend of mine. I’m sure that she’ll come through, To give them what they deserve. An honest dose of true. Dear Dearest Diary, Now, I’ll lay this to rest. I’ll become a better being, I know this is a test. I’ll end this here, And let it die. That’s all today. Until tomorrow, Bye. Oh no, this chick about to go on a religious preach.
I know what you are thinking and I'm not at all about to preach. I chose this title because it felt the most fitting for what I have to say. This isn't about religion; it's about the universe. The universe is an amazing thing. If you feed it, appreciate it, and respect it; it will give back to you. Karma, in a sense. I do good things. I'm a decent human being and I respect that I am small in this universe. So, often, the universe gives back to me. It gives back to me in actions and feelings and moments. I know I'm doing well as a mother when I see how amazing my kids are and how much people appreciate them. I know I'm excelling as a wife when troubles come up and I find clarity and resolution quickly. I'm trying to be humble and also tell you that the universe shows me all the time in positive ways that I'm doing things right. I'm on the right path and I'm a good person. I can't explain it but I can feel it. I haven't been on this platform in a few weeks... I actually forgot to even check when my last entry was so that I could be most specific. I planned earlier today to come on here to Bitch and Brag. Just as it sounded, I have something to bitch about and something to brag about. However, before I even pulled out my laptop; I pivoted. I decided against bitching. I was going to complain about my Mother-in-law and her intentionally annoyances but I didn't feel it was a good idea to drag her through any mud. She's annoying me and she does it often and almost intentionally so bitching about her or the current situation will not do any good so that's not a story to share today. I was also going to brag and I feel that this one is still valid and still a story that should be shared. I have a few things that I can brag about at the moment and I've already bragged to my sister, my best friend and my husband so why not to the 2 people that view my blog... which might actually be one of the 3 that have already heard this brag. Oh well. So, I've been using a platform called Wattpad since 2016 for my erotica. I don't promote it that often and I'm not on social media so even when I do promote; it's not to a wide audience. Anyways, one of my stories which is an ongoing series basically. It started when I decided to revamp my Wattpad a month or so ago. I unpublished all of my stories and revised some. Then I thought that a few of my stories that were separate, could actually be combined into one story. This created "My Best Friend". I republished this story with the chapters I had and set it to be continued... so that I could continue to add to it. Over the last 2 weeks, it has gained a huge growth in views. I passed 1K views earlier this week and that was really crazy to me considering most of my stories on there don't ever break 100 views. Yesterday, I published a part 7 to this story and today, I went to check my stats. I'm up to 2.2K views which is actually 2.3K now, since I took this screen shot hours ago. Gaining those views isn't really what's important. The important part is that even with more and more eyes viewing my work... it's maintaining a really high ranking in it's respected category. There's nearly 7K stories in a category and I'm ranked #1. That's impressive to me. That's something that I'm extremely proud of. I don't earn anything from getting views on this platform. My story is free to read so I'm not earning anything other than pride and fuck, I'm loving it. If you would like to check out my Wattpad, feel free to: www.wattpad.com/user/TuesdayDaily
Another thing I wanted to brag about was finishing a fiction story for a challenge/contest thing. I usually don't take the time to write, review, rewrite but I did with this story and I'm actually quite proud of it. Views do not increase my chance of winning but you can still read it at: vocal.media/filthy/when-they-met I really don't like bragging but I think given the option to brag or to bitch, it's more adult to brag. |
AuthorMarried. Mother. Writer. Artist. Witty. Clever. Positive. Obnoxious. Amazing. Archives
April 2024
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