Well, hey there!

Tiktoks, writing, and love, what else is there in life?

Emotional roller coaster!

I need to talk about this.
I don’t care if someone pulls me aside and goes, “Heeeeey buddy, I saw that thing, why’d you post that thing?”
Because posting about the thing is my way of pushing through my own insecurity about creating content, and for the longest time I never really cared what anyone thought about my content, it didn’t have any direct affect on my life.
I never thought my words or actions had any actual effect on peoples emotions or thoughts, and now, that I have been at Amazon for nearly two years at this point, have forged bonds and friendships. stealth relationships, and had romantic interests, (And yes god damn it I WILL talk about love, because why the hell wouldn’t I?) as well as created this weird as hell Matrix of random connections all up and down the chain of command at Amazon, from GMs, AMs, to PAs, KBS, PS, WS, and AAs, like, holy fucking shit, it’s been a trippy as hell experience, I’m finding myself at a weird stand still.
The point is this, I’m perfectly aware, I KNOW. Truly, I do KNOW where things stand on every level, and I’m trying to balance everything out in my head before I do anything.
Because I’ve been put through what feels like a 36 round championship title fight, been knocked down with a metaphorical punch to the chest and had a ten count to get the fuck back up.
I read somewhere that happiness and sadness unlock or enhance certain aspects of our psychology, happiness boosts up our creativity and sadness enhances our ability to analyze situations, whatever they may be. In order to get to the root problem of this whole thing, I needed to get to that point where my heart felt like it was dropping into a bucket of ice.
Not through conscious choice, but as a matter of the natural cycle of the seven stages of grief, I’ve been through the worst of it, and I nailed it down to the basic. The failure of not taking action, of overthinking, of seeing a straight line and deciding to let the journey curve and twist and pop up and down.
Though I do have hope that reconciliation can happen, I myself can not take any steps towards it, it’s not that I don’t want to, trust me, I do, but I’ve forgotten a very important lesson, that if you chase a squirrel, that little bastards going to dart the hell away each and every time.
However, if you’re patient, and stay very still, and feed the other birds and squirrels at the park, eventually, that squirrels going to want some of that goodness.
By the way, I AM talking about squirrels.
I create stories, songs, lyrics, and Tiktoks, because indirectly, subconsciously, they are messages or adventures for those that want, or need to hear them.
And not being able to be blunt about this is killing me, seriously, I’d much rather be upfront then have to dance around this thing.
I need an apology. I don’t care what channels I have to go through to set up to get one for what went down, but I will get one.
I think that was the straw that broke the camels back for me.
I can forgive a lot, but that? That needs to be rectified, resolved.

Tiktok’o’clock!

That aside, I have reached 7k on Tiktok, so I’m getting close to my goals in terms of numbers, if I hit 10k, I can apply for the creator fund, which means I’ll be able to make some spare change with some of these vids. Which means, I’ll have to find some of the freakier stuff on there to duet or stitch.
I also need to do some more dances, and I’m always down to appear in others Toks, Snaps, Instagram posts, and so on, I’ve never been shy about that kind of thing. I have a few ideas for skits and whatnot, I want to run a few ideas across a few people and see what can be done to make those ideas happen.
Because I’ve got some really cool ideas for a cross platform series!
My largest issue that needs to be worked on is collaboration momentum, the more I do something the easier it is for me to knock it out of the park. It’s just that first initial jump into something that bothers me a little bit.

Music and the Muse!

Music wise, I’ve got three or four ideas for albums that I want to try out, I’ve been doing a ton of crooning tracks for a while, some skit tracks, one or two country tunes, a ton of rap, some tracks with back ground vocals, and some with lyrics to them.
Which I need to get back to doing the ones with lyrics because those are by far the absolute best ones, while the freestyle are OKAY for the most part, I need to find a hook, a way to bring it back in.
I do have a few of those floating around, but for the most part, I’m mostly a story teller, there needs to be a progression in the lyrics, moving forward on a journey.
It’s actually a mental requirement of mine that for a tracks lyrics to really have that OOMPH that I need a muse, which, for a while, I had… have… had… basically, a connection to the lyrics that feels amazing when I get out there to belt it out. thing is, for a while now, that spots seemingly open, as far as I’m aware, since the previous muse wasn’t feeling it anymore.
It’s this connection that allows me to dive deep into my emotional well and brings out the best in what I can do, if I’m inspired, I can just knock it out.
Although, it’s not like anyone can fill out an application for “Morgan’s Muse!” and nail the spot. This has to be a connection that I personally feel, intensely. Specifically, has to be a woman, sorry guys, just the way I’m wired when creating, and there has to be a spark that’s lit when I look into her eyes, like a fireworks display going off in the center of my mind.
Love is the most powerful of emotional connections out there, and if there’s a spark of that, and it hits me deeply, then you’ll know as well, it’s a rare thing, when it hits the CORE of your soul, lights that fire in you, and makes you feel a thing or two about a thing or two because that’s what brings you happiness.
Am I open to repeats? Sure, always happy for that kind of deal, something familiar a return to comfort and warmth, of a souls fire and forging of a reconnection that might’ve been thought lost.
The next album is going to be called “Heart’s Desire” I’ve had the album cover done for quite a while now, but the connection that was behind this has kinda frayed at the edges, but I’m still going to press through with it. I feel uneasy about the album cover, as it involves some old art work I did of a past… current… connection…
That aside, I recently made a track called “She who I’d call queen” from a set of lyrics I wrote, that song is only 1/4 of the lyrics and I’m going to knock out the other three quarters tonight, I might have to redo the original track, since the vocals are a bit on the soft side at the start. But I REALLY don’t want to. I’ll see what I can do about getting an app or two that’ll be able to raise the main vocals a little bit.
I think there’s a bit of magic to how I’ve been able to knock these tracks out, because there is LITERALLY no planning whatsoever, I just grab some coffee, pick a beat I haven’t used before and just go for it. Sometimes it works out, other times I need to do it a few times before I’m satisfied, but people seem to enjoy it.

Sexy Chocolate and the handsome potato!

I get way too excited about things sometimes, like to the point where I get nervous and giddy and everything ends up falling apart, it’s not that I intend for these things to happen, just the way it is, kind of like expecting a surprise birthday party and finding out that well, HOLY CRAP it’s a single person, with a cupcake, and they haven’t yet lit the candle, and they’re just standing there like, WELL, this is indeed a thing!

The point I’m trying to make here is this:
Dear sexy chocolate, come get this handsome potato. OH MY GOD JUST CAME UP WITH THE PERFECT TIKTOK. I need chocolate and a potato.

Author’s Block

Writing wise, I was working on a small side project called Sogno Della Dinastia: Bianco e nero, which translates to “Black and White” I began writing it on Twitter a while back and it somehow fizzled out, it was an interesting concept.
Another series was some romantic thing, IT WAS BALLS OUT AMAZING!

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF PURE FICTION, ANY AND ALL RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL EVENTS OR PERSONS IS… MOSTLY COINCIDENTAL, I’M INSPIRED BY MANY THINGS AT MANY POINTS IN TIME. I TAKE THOSE THINGS AND MAKE AWESOMENESS WITH IT.

Here’s a few snippets:

Even without speaking, She was telling him she wanted him too. She sighed heavily at the start of shift, the weight of the world seeming to press down on her.
He knew something was going on.
She later stopped in front of him many times, hoping he’d take notice.
He did, each time.
He smiled, for he knew she was nervous, that she wanted to tell him how she felt.
It was okay, he felt the same way too.
After all, that’s what true love was, the ability to communicate without actually talking.
It was in the little things they did while around one another.
They were in love, and the whirlpool of their journey was winding them into tighter and tighter circles.
She paused, mimicking an actions he’d seen him do many times over by putting her index finger on her pulse, just behind her jaw.
He noticed everything, his heart pounding. Still he remained composed. He loved her, after all.
When her brown eyes met his green, there was always something magical.
She needed to be sure. She didn’t want to be hurt again, she wanted to trust him with her heart.
Her mind flashed back to the first time they argued, and though she’d deny being afraid it’d happen again, she let that moment inflict a moment of fear.
He understood perfectly, he always had. He knew perfectly well that she needed to be the one to approach him.
For her to initiate the conversation, and let it flow from there. She knew he was talkative, that given half the chance he’d talk her ear off the whole day.
She also knew he followed any rules she put in place.
He sighed heavily, knowing the issues they both faced. Both were nervous, both wanted the same thing, both had problems with starting the conversation.
She’d be hesitant.
He’d talk too soft.
She wanted him close again.
He wanted her close as well.

Today was another day, and though opportunity was striking, it could also mean a shift in direction they were both headed, if everyone else had their say.
With more and more people chiming in, it seemed impossible for them.
Or was it?

He would try again, the universe seemed to be against him, maybe he had everything wrong, the fires of passion he used to have were slowly dying, he needed to remind himself of what drew him to her constantly.
A few people said she was just using him for the way he made her feel, but in a way, if she was happy, he was happy.
If her happiness meant he needed to step up and be her man…
He’d need to change his approach. He was nervous, terrified, unsure of the possible change.
He liked how he was, but she needed something more from him, she needed to see his flirty, romantic, seductive side he’d sometimes show without knowing it.
She liked that side.
But, how to bring it out again?

It was the next day, she was staffed in the same place as before.
She was excited.
Anxious.
She was sure how the day would unfold, but she was sure that no matter what, he would be hers as she once knew him.
She loved him. She wanted him.
He wasn’t like any of the other men.
He was kind, caring, had actually taken the time to get to know her instead of casually flirting and disappearing when she turned him down.
He’d gotten to know her friend, and was always curious about her life.
She was hesitant at first, offering sometimes blunt responses.

Then he’d done something no other man had done before, he started sharing his work with her.
Giving her small handmade gifts, little things that he’d cobbled together out of other things. Hair ties, bracelets, little golden rings studded with diamonds.
He told her she was his muse, that he had feelings for her, but he didn’t want to rush the friendship.
He’d been so patient with her, and let her know when she’d hit his limit.
He was understanding and forgiving beyond what any other person would be.
He had his faults, everyone did, but he more than made up for them in other ways.
She had to hold tight to him when he thought he had done something wrong and tried to pull away, she reigned him back in, and in doing so, sealed for herself, a place in his heart and mind.
They had been through so much, and yet so little at the same time. She tested him, time and again, with little things in little ways.
Both direct and indirect.
He recounted little details about her, rarely mentioned moments that had passed, small conversations and more.
He paid more attention to her then she realized, and without realizing it, began to let her guard down around him, letting him know more and more about herself that she’d have otherwise kept secret.
She dropped little hints here and there, small, sometimes obvious, moments.
She wanted him.
He wanted her.
She was tired of small moves, tired of him beating around the bush, she wanted him upfront and to the point.
He was staffed in the same place again, but something was different.
He’d been working two different areas at the same time over the past couple of days.
When one area wasn’t busy, he’d work the other, and vice versa. She looked at him, casually going about his day, he looked at her as well, they each knew somehow.
Everyone around them was putting pressure on him to move on, to forget about her, and for a while, it seemed as though he was about to.
She knew he was persistent, but he had his moral compass. She liked that, it was something else about him that was different.
He was genuine.
He’d spend a majority of the shift in her area, keeping her company since there was no one else, small conversations here and there. Nothing major, just small things to pass the time.
When the conversation had run dry, he’d play a few games with her, normally, she’d refuse.
Not today. They played four games before it was obvious they’d be locked in ties each time. She wanted him to move closer, to stop dancing around what he was after.
What she was after, he’d been resistant, but for the right reasons.
Her friends had done their parts.
For a while, he’d forgotten the one thing that drew her towards him, to be genuinely himself. The new clothes helped some, but she wanted him. Almost craved him, her heart beat loudly in her chest, and somehow, he could always tell.
He disappeared for a while, she thought he’d left again. A while later, he came back, a spring in his step that she hadn’t seen in a long time.
For the first time in a while, they had a deep conversation. He then presented her with another gift, one she thought she’d never get.
He obliged with no hesitation, putting the small object in his back pocket.
She walked down the line just a little, and reassured herself that this was going to happen, she just needed to drop slight hints again.

He’d left for break, one of her friends waiting for him at the spot he’d usually be at.
He was too smart, so he approached and went straight to the point.
They talked at length about his attraction towards her, and the situation, as well as, an ever slight hint he caught.
He was enamored by her, he explained, she charged his creative battery like no other woman in there could.
The friend listened carefully, he was playing a cautionary part.
He knew he’d be able to piece everything together.
Later, when she and the friend were talking, he let it slip, just loud enough for him to hear, and he instantly heard it, processed it, and was comforted by the fact that he had been right all along.
He just needed to stay on the right path, follow the advice given.
After shift, he gave her the gift, and during the time they had before they left, she looked at him repeatedly, long eye contact, she was nervous, but then again, so was he, but he was there, calm, collected, confident. They talked for a little while, before they parted ways.
At least, he thought she left, but was pleasantly surprised when she hung back a little to see if he was following her, when he saw, he caught up rather quickly, he knew she had hung back just for him.
Still, he’d stopped at the stairs while they continued on.
She looked back a second time, and it was that second time, telling him he knew for a fact she wanted him.
Tonight she told herself, was a very good night.

She was in tears, for so long he had been the kind gentle soul she had known and loved secretly, but lately he had been cold, distant, sometimes brash without meaning to, she disliked him for those things.
At the same time, he had never lied to her, he’d been direct.
Over the passed week, something changed within him, she couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was almost as if something that was there, wasn’t anymore. As if he had left his anger, resentment, and inner demons behind.
There were small moments, where the two had shared mysteries or small moments.
Private thoughts, or past memories.
He’d always try to carry the conversation, fail, but sometimes on the rare occasions, it would be all day.
He liked talking of the deeper things, the romanticizing of the soul.
She loved his willingness to goof around.
The higher ups found it charming, he was one of their favorites. He didn’t understand why, he’d always tell them she helped out immensely.
Tonight however, felt different.
Tonight he’d notice her do something he’d never seen.
She had slipped away, just for a few minutes.

He looked at her, forever entranced at this secret side of her, and for a few minutes, he acted as her guard, keeping an eye out for those that might disturb those few precious moments.
He kept an eye out for work, and worried that there were eyes on her at all times.
she returned shortly, and excused herself. for the first time in a long time, they held meaningful eye contact. and in that instance, the connection reignited, not as intense, but it was there.
For everything everyone was telling him, he stood fast, present, the warmth, returned.

I’ve got nothing except love.

For some reason I always get weird when talking about love, not in the sense that it becomes perverted self inflation of how ginormous my dick is, because… that would be a gross use of power, also, physiologically, every large dicked man has a constant fear of having a heart attack caused by getting aroused, look it up, straight up fact.
Speaking of big dicks, the dude with the largest dong measures in at two fucking feet.
My question:
Does he go to Hentai cons? because people would fucking love that shit.

Anyways, today is one of the random, “Meh, I knock one out” days, I’m not active enough to garner new followers, but just active enough to keep the ones I have, and honestly, I don’t check the numbers anymore. Why? I don’t care about them, if I continually check the numbers to see how I’m doing, then I fuck myself with anxiety, and I don’t need that shit in my life again.
I get it now, when people say they turn off social media and what not, they try not to focus too much on it, because that’s just how shit is, you live, you learn, you get excited about nothing in particular, and then you move the fuck on.
I wish for the love of god it were that easy with me.
I kind of hate all my socials with a average sized dick passion. Yes, we’re floating back to that shit, because why the fuck not?
Anyways, to make matters interesting, works been going good, this MET is kicking my ass something fierce, but I’m sticking with it, with the knowledge and passion knowing that sometime in October, I’ll get converted, and with any luck, won’t have a ride situation that’s not going to fuck me out of 600 fucking dollars a fucking month just to get two and from work.
Look, I get it, you got out before they got you out, and you’ve got bills and shit to take care of, but how the fuck come I’ve got to be the one to do that, when clearly, you’ve got the scratch to do that on your own. Fuck, if I’m paying you 600 a month for rides to work and back, that I might as well move in with you, because that right the fuck there is rent levels of money and Jesus fucking Christ.
But at the same time, they’re my friend, and “Do the right thing” is ringing in my head. But momma didn’t raise no sucker, and I know when I’m getting fucked over, friendship or not.
And even when they get back in, it’s still gonna cost me 200 a week to get a ride with them, even when they’ve got their own money coming back in? Citing, gas, oil change, tires, blah blah blah when the fuck did I become responsible for MORE then just gas? Yes, the wear and tear and all that, but at the same time, at the end of each month, after taxes, rent, and gas, I’m essentially getting paid HALF of what everyone else’s is getting to take home. And I’m back to 900 a month instead of 2200 a month, so this is my main fucking gripe right there.

Yeah, we’re friends through thick and thin, but the moment you’re back at work is the moment I’m finding a better ride situation.

Dear Amy, here’s all the things I want to say to you.

This is to a woman I’ve dated for around 7 months with no progress… And I’m not going to hold back.
Dear Amy,
You want to know the reason i’m not really talking to you?
It’s not because of your family.
It’s not because of you (Partially).
Actually, no, check that last ones… Every conversation we have online turns into you talking about how crappy your life is because you feel alone.
We all feel alone, that’s why we try to hang out with people we think have common interests.
Unfortunately, you tend to take everything and make it about you…. so, fun! This is conjunction with the fact you have a thing about long messages (which by far are more convieniant than short messages leaving me with a puzzled look on my face about what exactly it is I’m supposed to infer from the words, “Nope, I’m fine now.” apart from the following:
“I’m fucking with your head, because you wouldn’t talk to me when I wanted to talk to you but you were busy then, and now that you’re free to talk, I don’t want to talk to you.”
how is this supposed to get me to understand anything, it’s like you take every bit of advice from jokes and memes clearly not meant to be taken seriously, and while I do applaud your forwardness, calling me an asshole for just wanting to break away from my 20 year habit (I’m 34) of going from relationship to relationship, or straight on to dating, or saying something you don’t agree with, is just… .weird. And I’m not talking about anything major, it’s the littlest thing which can set you off on a tangent, and yay, great, lovely.
Whatever.
the fact of the matter is I don’t have the patience I used to.
More over, I told you I loved you annnnnd nothing, just straight on to the next clump of sadness you needed to unload. I get wanting to take your time, but my attraction to you has it’s limits, and if I’m not getting anything in return, nevermind the physical, ’cause outside of me giving you a back massage, there was nothing.
I got you nearly 150 bucks in christmas gifts, there wasn’t a thank you.
I was checking my account to see if I had enough for the rest of the week for expenses, gas money, rent, and you told me not to worry about it.
I asked straight up if you loved me back emotionally, and you basically said nope.
So, why then, should I bother continue to date someone if it’s just going to be a one way thing?
Why should I continue to bother wondering if there’s any possibility of ANYTHING happening when the closer I think We getting to that goal line, the harder you make it for there to even be an ‘Us’?
Shit happened, crappy relationships, douchebag friends, I got that, no need to go into detail,and most importantly:
You were going into nursing, studying the crap out of the subject, you showed me your workbook, and it was filled to the brim with notes, answers, references, and it showed you poured your heart into the subject, but when you got the opportunity to knock it out of the park, you let the words of some idiot teacher and a few bitchy women get in the way of you succeeding and decided instead to go for other jobs.
far be it from me to lambast you for choosing how to live your life, but at the same time, dear fucking god, woman, wtf?
So, I’m done, I’m taking a break, and this part has nothing to do with you, I’m finally taking a break for my own benefit, why, you ask?
Because for so long I’ve let my self confidence be determined by if I have a girlfriend or not, and that’s not a healthy way for ANYONE to live.
I need to have self confidence based on my own level of self esteem, nothing else.
Again, this part has nothing to do with you, even though you’ll think it definitely does, because yeah, that’s a thing.

Working at Amazon is a bit… interesting.

Yes, I’m gonna bitch a little about Amazon, just some much needed stress relieving, that’s all. I still love you BABEH! Anyways, one fucking thing that bugs the utter shit out of me is the popping of bubble wrap. There’s piffing, and then there’s people that squeeze the fucking shit out of that stuff like there’s both crack and money inside of it.
And, I get it, I really do! Trust me, Popping bubble wrap is fucking amazing, almost like having an orgasm and it’s literally a fucking release of air. But then again, you have the asshats that stare at you WHILE they’re popping the stuff, like, really dude?
Are you trying to tell me something? Am I going to be sleeping with the fishes? Am I part of a bubble wrap based civil war and you know what’s really going on? Did the PA’s tell everyone to just stare me, right in the fucking eyes while you slowly squeezed the shit out of the poor thing, only relenting after that oh so satisfying POP? I mean really, if you want to give me a hug, go for it, just…. just don’t treat me like you do the bubble wrap every chance you get, because… well, there’s another way of ending the bubble wraps pathetic existence.
Stabbing it with the box cutter, and the piff noise is so much more depressing. Because it almost sounds like something screaming their last, and I’m thinking to myself, “OH GOD YES!” because when the bubble wrap wars start between the Poppers and the Piffers? box cutters will be the unfortunate victims of their own hubris!
And I’ve forgotten what theu tter fuck I was talking about, sorry, random booger or something, I dunno.
Working at Amazon is easy enough.
The works easy.
Pay’s amazing.
So what’s the biggy?
i’ll tell you.
The fucking Rate system they have in place, and it’s fucking ridiculous.
Okay, when I first started working there, the rate was around 319 items, and that’s reasonable, right? Because we’re there for about 8 hours normal and 10 hours if there’s MET, and 12 hours if we vote for the 4/10, which I guess is cool, but it all averages out, I’ll have to check the latest numbers, but you get the idea, right?
Anywho, so there’s a group rate and an individual rate, not saying fuck it, ers has the individual rate, and vegantarians have the group rate, and we have to hit those numbers on the daily, between 65% and 100% is the magic number, and those dailies average out the weekly, but the way the numbers are crunched is based around three different theories, but they all mean the same thing:
1. Size of the box scanned
2. Recieving V Sorting
3. Number of scans total

So using those three things, they knock out the number, and it’s not an issue. The issue is that what we receive is usually a mix throughout the day, and I’ve begun noticing a pattern, in the beginning is mostly receive, towards the middle is a 50/50, and towards the end is mostly sort.
Not to mention there’s a thing called cherry picking, which is when people only take the boxes that are good and large numbers, which fuck the rest of us over. Because from what I’ve heard, the higher ups both condemn and silently promote cherry picking at the same time depending on how it’s affecting the bottom line. Not to mention it fucks the rest of us over.
There’s an easy way to fix this, and I’ve mentioned it to the higher ups, make a group rate based on the overall Sort/Receive of an entire line, therefor eliminating the Cherry Picking situation all together, because no matter the box picked, it all goes towards the Line Rate, and everyone gets to do their thing.
There are also those that like to scan something, then talk for minutes on end, then scan something again just to keep that TOT timer from screwing them over. Whihc, hey, more power to them, but at the same time, not only does that screw their rate over, it fucking slows down the amount of work getting done. we’re there to work, not chit chat about shit that doesn’t matter. If it affects how much work you’re getting done throughout the day in a negative fashion, fucking don’t do that shit. No place for it.
because when they don’t do THEIR work, we end up having to carry their asses. And the FC’s only a year old, so the higher ups are still trying to optimize the best ways to make everything work together. Another thing that feeds into the cherry picking is the individuals strength. Because you got the following ages groups:
18 to 29 – these guys and gals kick ass all over the place, but there IS a habit of spending more time talking than working.
30 – 49 – my age bracket (I’m 34), we tend to be a bit more focused on our work, not talk so much, and knock out the majority of the things the 18 – 29 miss.
49 – 69 – they tend to talk and cherry pick because their strength ain’t what it used to be. In a way, it does make sense, but it’s still doing a thing that goes against the grain.

Anyways, I’m starting to spin my wheel just a bit, so I’ll end it on a positive note, the higher ups are always taking feedback, ideas, and other things to their higher ups, and in turn trying to figure out the best way to make those things happen.

Worker placement is also a thing, but meh, not interested in writing this anymore. Anyways, just wanted to knock something out, have a good one!

Fuck you Donald John Trump and everything you do.

Trump’s a bitch tart.

Dear Treasonous Trump,

You sack of shit. You utter fucknutted bitch tart. You sickly looking, shit filled, no good, rotten, scoundrel of a human being. you should be tried, charged, drawn and quartered, but just enough so that you’re still living (barely) and drug through a path of broken glass and salt.
You want to know how I really feel? That’s it. i fucking hate you Trump, and not because of 2016 (well, mostly for that, but there are other reasons as well, I mean, come on, 2016 was 2 years ago, right? SO SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT IT.) you annoy the utter crap out of me you son of a bitch, and for those politisnobs out there wondering the exact reason? fuck off! i don’t have to give an exact reason, there’s no exact reason for wanting a treasonous son of a bitch out of office and in the execution room filled with crack addled, razor toothed chihuahuas while wearing nothing but a Santa outfit made of drugs and raw meat!

There’s just justification for the incredible amounts of fucking shit that the assfucks been putting everyone through, and everything that I’ve stated FROM DAY FUCKING ONE IS COMING THE FUCK TRUE SO THE GLOVES ARE OFF YOU ORANGE FACED ROTTED DISTENDED TESTICLE LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER! Because in the end? Trump didn’t even matter after all, everything he’s ever done has fallen the fuck apart, and hwile there are great people on both sides of the dumbass spectrum, this motherfucker is king of them all! It’s like he doesn’t give a shit, yeah, he’s trying, but not hard enough.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got friends and fam that’re trump supporters, they’re great people, love’em to pieces.

I just really fucking hate Donald john Trump with a burning passion that makes me want to light some fireworks I guess, like, I really didn’t KNOW where I was going with that one, just lost my train of thought on ye old “Fuck Trump”  train.

I’m not giving any quarter to that fat assed, tiny sausage fingered little bastard, because he’s an utter fuck nutted shit brained, piece of ass fart who’s only stupid racist goal in his entire pathetic existence is to eek out an existence as an organ monkey looking for crack filled peanuts with the efficiency of a dumbass named Trump. IS there anything he’s done that I agree with?
Are you fucking with me right now? Did you NOT SEE THE TITLE OF THIS POST? It’s not called, “Fuck you DJT” because  I’m getting him a birthday card and was wondering whether or not to get him some birthday cake along with the egregious amount of shit I’m giving him, and the truth hurts, people, the truth hurts, but Mueller’s is going to fuck his shit up with the efficient of a god damned nuke going off in a fishbowl and there ain’t nothing anyone can do about it, not whitman, not sessions, that keebler elf looking fuckbag.

I’ve been so fucking silent on this whole thing, because I wanted to see how things were going to play out, andp lay the fuck out they did, because god damned, the soap opera that’s become out current president has become so fucking ridiculous that it makes me wonder if Stan Lee, before he passed away, in his great amazing wisdom, created the first true to life Super Villain and made him a complete fuckbag and sent him into the office. Because the only cameo that this motherfucker has going for him is a permanent place in hell, (Donald John Trump, not Stan Lee. Stan’s is in heaven, making the best damned comics the universe has ever see. RIP buddy, gonna miss ya.) Trump can suck my fat sausage, because that shit stain of a russian bitch is nothing more than everything I made his greasy fuckface out to be, a god damned traintor to these United States of America, and Treason is the reason of the season bitches, and it’s coming out in ALL THE FLAVORS OF THEM OTH, IVANKA, JARED, ERIC, DUMBASS JR. everyone of those little bastards is going to hell in one way or another, (Except Baron, that kid’s got good things coming to him, nothing against the little dude.)

Okay, nuff of this, gotta get ready for work, Morgan’s Mindcicles everybody, new and improved, and about damned time.

Writing can be harsh with a broken heart.

Self motivation is what keeps me going, self motivation to punch through whatever is slowing me down, selfm otivation to prove that I can knock something out each and everyday, even if it’s just adding a little bit more to the part I’m working on. It’s tough, harsh, and unbelievably hard to pull off, but somehow each day, with a cup of joe and a blaring playlist of Happy Hardcore music, i’m able to get both a little ifction written, as well as a blog post about whatever the fuck I’m feeling at the moment.

And at the moment? i’m feeling great… Not really. I’m stuck in a quagmire of slow thoughts turned exhaustion, I write about being tired, I become tired, bored, and start to yawn, and there goes the day.

I’m punching through this as much as i possibly can, because how else am I going to get through writing. To me, at least, the worst enemy you can have is yourself. Because, as you know, your own brain is actively working against you every step of the way, trying to slow you down, trying to make you sluggish in whatever you try to accomplish, and right now, my brain is slowly but sure tryng to keep me from accomplishing my goals. Which can be an incredib;ly frustrating feeling.

Especially when you’ve got a book of blogs and other things to knock out which I will. I’m tired of not working on that thing, I’m tired of not pulling though on the one thing that’s been haunting me for such a long time. And yes, It is a very dull, boring, and exrutiating process, and I sometimes think I won’t be able to stand on my own two feet, but god fucking damn it, I need to make this happen, I don’t want to be stuck at my parents house forever, and it’s incredibly draining on my self confidence, because I’m feeling up then down, and it fucks with you, it truly does screw with your head.

I know I can get through this massive headache, i know that it’s just a matter of time before something launches me forward in life, and I NEED to start writing about what’s going through my mind instead of just dancing around the topic like I’m afraid of what the consequences are going to be. Yeah, posting on Facebook can be lethal because of FB politics, but at least here? Here, oi can roar to the mountains and back about whatever the fuck is own my mind and try my damndest to get through the day.

Motivation is key in anything we do, and it’s only those moment where we falter that we’re truly happy for what we’ve accomplished with our lives. I need that happiness more than ever right now! not that i’m complaining, well, fuck it, I am, I’m not going to sit idly by and let others just roar whatever the fucks going on in THEIR lives and cast me into the fucking flames of perdition to whomever the fuck they want and i’m just stuck here like I’m useless and powerless to say whatever the fuck I need to to get through the dya, I need to vent, I need to destress, and right now?

donald Motherfucking Trump is a cuckolded dumpster fire on wheels, that shit stained motherfucker is screwing everything up and NO I don’t need to post specifics, because why the fuck would I do something incredibly boring as point out hte fucking prom baby abortion he has been to our allies and enemies! I Donald trump is the kind of guy that would fuck his own daughter than separate her from the family, just so no one can claim incest.

donald trumps a fucking traitor to this country, I don’t give two fucking shits what you think or feel, the mother fucker is treasonous and we all know, the Republican party just won’t admit to shitting on the floor because they know that the moment they do, the fucking moment they DO, that their chances of getting another Republican in office just slimmed down faster than a starving kid in the fashion industry.

fuck you, you know that shits real, and that’s why it’s so god damned dark.

Donald trump is the abortion the country needs to happen. Let me rephrase that, the country needs to have an abortion and remove this fat, orange, tantrum throwing, pants shitting, face rash having shit bag forcibly removed from office as fast as fucking possible!

And no, I’ve stated this in the past, if the fucktard hadn’t been in bed with Putin, and he’d run an honest campaign, and hadn’t shit all over himself on Twitter, then maybe MAYBE THE 80% OF THE COUNTRY WOULDN’T BE PISSED OFF!

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