WCMarchese

Haven't been writing on here for a couple weeks I think. Overtime has been a part of my daily these past two weeks and unfortunately is a necessity at this time.  I'm getting used to it, so I'm going to try and post a few times if not every day.  I have, however, been working on my other writing. So that's a good thing. Outlining one of my novels that have taken so many turns and changes to the story it's not even funny. Well, maybe it is a bit funny.  I am fiddling with an older laptop and opened Chrome and saw my Blogger account pop up so I said you know there's no better time, right?  I want to post a review I've done. I notice those do better than most posts on here. But that's a different thing. The daily posts are just for practice and getting thoughts out. Mostly as a diary/thought pad. Or something.  Talk soon.  WCM 

Not much to write. I'm tired, going home. I'm burnt out, but I could muster a little energy to get home. And am writing now. On train. Not too bad. Using my cell. Of course I had something thought out earlier today, but you know how that goes.  I'll be back later. Stay positive and keep pushing ahead.  WCM

Mondays. What can I say. They are terrible. Especially when you have GERD and eat habanero sauce the day before. Oh, and don't take TUMS before you go to sleep. I think that's what it was.   Anyway.   Mondays. Yes. I despise them. As I tap the keys, a small reprieve from the thought of Monday, I still come back to it. It's just there. I have enough days that I can almost take every Monday from now until around September. I think. And I just might do that.   Maybe.   Some say they like to take Fridays off. But why? It's the day before the weekend. You know the next day brings a day off. Anticipation. Just one more day. Why wouldn't you want Monday.   Am I wrong? If you have the weekend off, why would you want Friday off?   May be just me. Let me know what you think. That's if you got this far in the post. If you did. Thank you.   Okay. Back to work. Real work. Not the work I'd like to be doing. Maybe one day.   Now where are those TUMS?   WCM

  It's Friday again. Finally made it. It's hot. Spring coming in with an explosion. And the world keeps turning.  Reminds me of when I was a kid. The soap operas my Mom used to watch. Those were the good days. People tell you not to grow up, and "you'll see". And boy. Looking back on those days really makes me understand. Now when I tell my daughter the same thing, I can't help but think about those days and how my words will fall on deaf ears -- as the saying goes.  But such is life, no? Maybe. That's similar to the phrase I hate: "It is what it is." Just despise it. Because to me it's giving in. In a way. But today is Friday. And the weekend is ahead. So take it easy. Drink lots of fluids and make the best of what you got.  WCM

Am I a smart guy? No. Well. Maybe. I don't think I'm extraordinarily smart. I know how to do things, how to get around things and make tasks easier. Maybe that's smart. Maybe it's a slacker in some people's eyes. Whatever it is, that is the basis for creators and people who bring things to the eyes and ears of viewers and consumers. They want to see something that excites them, that they can enjoy and can't wait to enjoy. Maybe? Well, that's up to you. Personally I prefer YouTubers to the big networks and their shows.   Case in point. Ghost shows. I watch a few channels, maybe more, on YouTube and I enjoy them greatly. They get to the point, to various degrees. I was watching a ghost show on one of the Discovery channels and they kept showing the same thing over and over, commentary, then the clip again and again. Then they teased the next story, which was cut off and followed by a commercial. Then when you got back they had to build it all up again. Then fi

The middle of the week. Pushing up the hill. A few rocks come loose. And maybe a tuft of grass pushes my shoe back as I thrust higher and higher. At the top I look over at the other side. Exhausted. I look back, but it's dizzying. How did I do it? Looking forward again I close my eyes, take a deep breath, open my eyes. Let it out. Take a step forward.   And then I curl into a ball and roll down the other side into Friday.   WCM

Today is a coffee day. Some days I feel like it more than others. It's as though there is a portal inside my esophagus where the coffee flows and is transported to another dimension. Probably a multiverse where another version of me has had too much coffee. And now I know why. Because the coffee on the days I want more goes to myself in that other realm and fills me up there. So those days over there I only want maybe one carafe (about two to two and a half cups), or one cup. But here I want more and more.    Some of the coffee spills over the sides of the portal, because it's not totally flush against it's encasement. That coffee gets by and enriches my mind with knowledge passed down from generations of wise brewers who know why. They just know. And then my brain says. More. Please. So I have another carafe. Or two and a half more cups. To offer up to the multiverse. My other self is getting full of coffee. And what gets by the portal is satiating my "this-world"

What to say? I skipped three days. Like a rock jumping cross a lake. Just like that. Plop plop plunk. It was a crazy three days. Wild. Got quite a bit done. Though, I felt bad not adding anything here. But such is life. Right?   Left.   And here we are. Another Monday. Another day. Another moment in time. When I'm more than I thought... No no no, wait. Let's not go back that far. But it's said that time travel has been figured out. To be honest, we've been doing it with our minds. Memories. Ole factory sense. The Wayback Machine. Oh yes. And the retro YouTube channels. Those old commercials really take me back. Then there is the scary logos. Gotta love those.   But we can relive memories to some degree through these tools. I'm sure there are other methods. Books and movies are also a great rewind. See how things were back in a certain time. And if done well, how they felt and the mood and essence of that history, as well.   Well.   By the time I post this this writi

My post yesterday was tame. Lame? Not like the spontaneous voice that sometimes comes to me when I'm doing the "practice". I hadn't really done the practice yesterday. Just picking things out of my head and placing them on screen and watching it form into something. It wasn't terrible. For a colloquial piece, I guess. And it formed this, which I am editing and adding to now.   But it got me remembering about muses and how some say a force or being comes to them, and when they show up--well, you know the rest. I can see what they mean. But it's not exactly the way they make it seem. You have an overall feeling for the muse. That mindset, that something different, overtakes you. A force? A spirit? Is the flow moving through your body to control you, to work with "the force". It can certainly feel that way sometimes. And the way people say they experience this is their interpretation of that muse thing that comes to them. It can make them a different pe

Okay. So another day. I've been rushing through them. But not wishing them away, at least. For the most part.   I joke with people and say happy Thursday, because of the day off. Once they see what I mean... eh. Who cares lol. I am just typing now trying to think of what I want to write because I forgot what I wanted to write. Same usual. I had something I was thinking about but of course I wasn't by a computer or a method to write it down. I had my phone, but I was walking and in the streets of NYC and I try and pay attention. Morning anxiety, too. Rushing to work. Not as bad as it sounds. At least not like it used to be.   Things change. Times change. Some things don't. That can be good and bad. You must break free from thinking in a cage. Sometimes I can. But once things start to go in a certain direction, I want to revert to how I was thinking.   Small milestones allow some to make it to higher levels in this game of life or stay at the bottom and trying to get the timi

It’s Tuesday and I don’t know what to write. (Just kidding, I wrote this on Monday, just editing it now.) But I’m going to keep writing until something comes to mind, until something pops in my head with the force of a corpse hitting a fan, splattering blood and gristle everywhere, the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Yes, even up there. Splatters flicked in a line, one on top of the other as the fan blade spins. A big chunk slowly dislodges, then peels off the putrefying paint before sliding to one small section of its mass, holding on like a suction cup from a severed octopus tentacle and then finally plopping to the ground with a slimy slap.   The fan looks terrible, too. Not two. Just one.   It smells terrible now. Like a garbage dumpster that can be power washed but still smell like rotten chicken flesh and putrefying produce behind a restaurant. Avocado peals and all kinds of mixed sauces. The warmer weather isn’t helping much, either. It’s a meal for a groundhog, or whatever they

Ah Monday Morning—or afternoon, depending on when I post this. Well, Tuesday if you want to look at it from a different perspective. Friday is off for a lot of people. Not all. I used to be in that boat. Weekend work. Some like it because you get days during the week off. Or the night shift--depending on what part of the night--can work out to be beneficial to an individual who loves the nightlife. Either way. It’s still Monday. And all the things that go with a Monday are still here. Exhaustion. Maybe some anxiety. Depending on how much you miss the weened past.   Sitting down. In front of my computer. Coffee at my side. I’m here. So might as well get on with it. And I’m alive. I get to hit the keys another day. Get thoughts onto this site another day.   I was going to post something this past weekend, but just didn’t feel it. I felt as though I were in a viscus fluid at times, struggling to swim to the surface, but moving too slow to make any real movement. The gel threatening to suf