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.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

I was thinking about the grand scope of the universe and why it was the squirrels get the best stick in life, like an ACTUAL fucking stick, I mean, if it were an actual FUCKING STICK that’d be questionable, because then you’d see sweet old ladies screaming for their lives with bags of broken crackers, all the while a fuck ton of squirrels with oddly bloody twigs would be chasing her, and you KNOW shit’s about to go down when you see that kind of bullshit happen.

I once saw an octopus. No reason really, it was just there, and I was having the time of my life just looking at this fucking thing, and I was like, “Hey, octopus.” And the thing did say a word, because it has an ass mouth. That’s right, you heard, Octopi have ass mouths, they can be masters of talking shit, because of their ass mouths, and there’s nothing you or I can really do about it.

There’s such a thing as redundant torture, where you do something utterly inane to someone else over a large or short period of time, and they’ll finally be all, “Hey, what the fuck.” All calm like, but you know deep down they’re sad.
Or… something, I don’t fucking know.

Maybe we’re all just in a simulation and the robots are the real players here, because that’d be absolutely amazing, if ready player one wasn’t about the time space-continuum because a vacation inditing the mass roach riot of 20:14 military time, because I like fucking with people’s perception of things every now and then. It’s just a thing I do, you know how I know? Because you aren’t me, and even if you were, I’d still be the one writing this fucking thing, so you can’t stop me no matter who you are!
Yes, I ripped that from Ace venture, which is honestly my favorite movie of all time.

I don’t wonder why time traveling eggs don’t time travel, they’d be too chicken by the end of it. Ha.

Dumb jokes for smart people include:
1. My dating life.
My hair line.
The fact I more famous than a regular potato.
Every knows a regular potota. Or potato.
Fuck pototas. They’ve done nothing for humanity.

Those assholes.
This blog was brought to you by the overwhelming need to fuck around on the interenet and write some weird bullshit that’ll make you question if I’m high or not.
I am 6″5 or six foot five inches. Why does my jaw feel like a peice of toast ready to pop the fuck out of a toaster? Oh yeah, gravity. I keep forgetting that’s a thing.
Kinda like Brangolina. Or Bracheal.
Or Bennigan’s.

Let’s talk about our DREAMS!

What if I told you, that I had a Notebook style dream about a woman in love with a Sandman enlisted in the Armed forces and the dream ends with her declaring her love for him, arms wrapped around him tightly as he slowly disappears into the winds?
Your first thought would be, “Annnnnnd now I’m crying.”
Your second thought would be, “Sand between the boobs.”
And your third thought would be, “Wait, if he’s made of sand…. Did… Did they just have sex?”
And good sirs and madams, the answers to those thoughts, theories, and questions you never knew needed asking or answering would be yes.
I cried too.

More ridiculous than that is the FB group known only as “https://www.facebook.com/events/448435052621047/” Or 1.1 million people storm Area 51 to slap some alien cheeks. What the “Clapping” involves leaves little to the imagination, but I assume it involves ramming things into other alien things as revenge for all the constipated red necks claiming it’s them thar aliens done with what all that there probing!
That’s what I’m guessing anyways, people have weird kinks when it comes to sex, and yes, I do talk about penis in vagina, vagina on penis, or where ever you like to stick where ever into wherever because we’re human, sex is a thing, and I’m not about to be virtually brow beaten by some lonely chick I’ll never meet into not talking or writing about the very thing that’s kept our literally fucking species going on.

I’ll talk about whatever god damn it! Including the previously mentioned clapping of alien cheeks and questions about sand storm sex, BECAUSE THAT’S THE KIND OF PERSON I AM! And as erotic as both scenarios sound, there’s the after effects of those scenarios!

For instance, if she takes a shower later on, does losing those particulates hurt the sandman? Or does he just thwip those things back into his form? Will the produced baby not be able to enjoy swimming? Will the other kids start bullying him or her by throwing glasses of water at his or her crotch and start calling them Sandick or sandtits!? Instead of Sandisk.
Because my humor is working multiple levels here!
more importantly:
If after years of enduring torment, will the sand baby morph into a mass shooter like Sand man or Sand woman, using their own body to murder those who tormented him? Not by slowly grinding away at their screaming forms, but just by straight up launching his or her fist at super speeds from the top of their heads down out their ass?
Hey, darkest timeline here.

Or will the kid turn out alright and have to be REALLY careful during puberty?
These questions about human/Desert hybrid physiology are fucking important!
Continue laughing.
Seriously, it’s humor.

But the dream was pretty sad, but satisfying, it hit all the right notes, and would’ve made for a god damned awesome movie, the questions asked, the motives behind the actions taken, the morally ambiguous sex scenes which mainly involve her, him, or the Apache helicopter rolling around in a pile of sand, while Beach boys blasts in the background?
Tear jerking… In ways.

I wish to god I was in a relationship. To love, be loved, share moments of hot steamy passion and dumb debates over whether to get the regular spicy sushi or the super spicy sushi, the quiet moments in between the sporadic conversations where we’re both in our own little worlds, only to be snapped back to the present by a brush of the hand?
The point of this post is that time is fleeting, life is fleeting, memory of the truly important moments is what keeps us going, pressing for something more, something better than what we had previously, and to always push forward, even when the task in front of us seems daunting, confusing, or down right pants shittingly terrifying.

Let’s talk about women in the lead for the moment and the disconnect I feel… Not a bad thing mind you, just… a bit left field, and this has NOTHING to do with sex… That I can tell.
Okay, take your average action movie, you know the thing:
1. Bad ass male lead.
2. Damsel in distress.
3. Asshole trying to do a bad thing.
4. Comic relief that’s more or less ignored until a crucial part of the movie.
5. Guy get’s the girl, which one, meh, don’t care.

Now, reverse the PHYSICAL and MENTAL genders involved. I get that Trans is a thing, but we’re not talking about that right now.
How much more likely are you to see that movie? how less likely?
Interesting in either case.

Moving forward:
Let’s talk about the E-girl that was deleted from life by her creepy ass boyfriend.
Let’s talk about the fact that this asshole slit her throat then posted pictures of it on Instagram, where it took a total of 72 hours for the site itself to take the account AND the photo down?

What the fuck?
First, Le Unpacking of the many levels of bullshit.

I’m no fan of E-girls.
Let me repeat that, very clearly:
If you are an E-girl, or claim to be an E-girl: You have zero self confidence in yourself in face to face situations to the point where you have to exploit yourself to get attention.
You may say that you have self confidence, but really, all your actually doing to running with the grain on the stereotype that E-girls are just a low grade version of Cam-girls, and fuck them too, because of the same reasons.

That being said, when I was 14, I have had friends that were E-girls that have tried to push their BS on me, and I was like, “Why be my E-girlfriend when I’m right in front of you?” Then they looked at me dumb, like I just farted in their pudding or something.

If you are a man or woman 18 or over in a relationship with someone 18 or younger: Fuck you, you creepy mother fucker.
The moment I turned 18 was the moment my then girlfriend broke up with me for the logical reason of, “Well, you’re an adult, and I’m still 16, so goodbyes!” and I was totally fine with it.
Sad, but totally fine with it,BECAUSE i KNOW THE LAW YOU FUCKING IDIOTS.
The dude was 21, in a relationship with a 17 year old e-girl, and when they met up, he straight up murdered her and posted a picture of her corpse on Instagram.
What the flying utter fuck is up with people?
We up to some crazy fucking bullshit now a days, and we’re at the point where Mass Murder, Children living in cages, kids being shot, White supremacy being our Presidents go to move, and YouTubers being absolute shit to their kids are normal.
Now, we’re at the point where teen girls are being killed by their creepy ass 21 year old boyfriends.
Like, god damned, the cycle of crazy never fucking surprises me, but god fucking damn it! This is why y’all should be careful.
This is why parents always have more than one girl, because they KNOW there’s a chance of one of the darling little angels doing something incredibly stupid and ends up getting killed.
This is why boys are a slightly safer bet. Kind of, boys are pretty fucked up as well.

Now, for a latte cleanser. I present: A fucking potato.

Image result for fucking potato

So, yeah, last night had this dream…

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