I capitalize the title, because, maybe, titles are capitalized? I dunno, I’ve seen it done with caps only for the beginning letter of certain words, the words that are supposed to have a beginning letter cap. Does it matter, to me? Nope. Maybe I switch it up at some point and maybe I keep doing it this way. I’m open to whatever, so fuck it, let’s roll.

I do my best not to use foul language, ’round here. Again, this is my creative non-fiction voice. Note, creative precedes non-fiction. In reality, I do use foul language quite a bit. Not always, but if I’m feeling anxious, or restless, foul language kind of helps me best. I do not direct my foul language at people. I use foul language, in ways such as- fuck it, fuck that, fuck this, goddamnit, fucking hell, for fucks sake, fuck it all, what the fuck, how the fuck, shit. I will not say a foul word, and then use the word, you.

Jesus, got way off on a tangent. So, I believed tweeting, and posting photos on IG, was an outlet to help with my uneasiness, or restlessness. I’ve come to find out that maybe at times its therapeutic, but the majority of the time, it only worsened my restless sensations. I want the goddamn restlessness to shut the fuck up, as soon as possible, because I know, I goddamn guarantee, that it’ll be back. I’ll never kill the restlessness. I’ve got so much genetical dna in me that knows, I’ll fight with restlessness my entire life. Quite honestly that’s why I accept being by myself, for the time being. For now, it makes sense. It’ll always be there, and, that’s a tough thing to deal with for me- it’s not my place to ask for another to join my world. I’m a lot to deal with, at times. See, Twitter, and Instagram, it’s too much for me to handle. Yes, you see these essays because they are coming across as tweets. So, I guess I do still tweet, but in a completely different way. This is how I can transmit my voice. In fact it’s the only way I will do so. Through fiction books as well. But for the time being it’s creative non-fiction for me.

I think you get it, maybe. Think, yeah- I get what Philip is saying. Somehow, I think maybe everyone gets it, but can control themselves better than I can. I ain’t mad at it, I’m not jealous, or envious. I’m happy and glad that you are able to handle it. I mean that. I thought I could, but not the way I was going about it. I can maintain this. I can handle these types of tweets.

continuing to read Ex-Boogeyman by Kristopher Triana. I’m loving every minute of it (not my phrase, someone else made it). Yes, I know it’s fiction. That’s why I’m writing a buttload of non-fiction, because, for the time being, it helps ground me in reality, which may appear as fiction, at times, but it is not. Reality is what it is, and fiction will be what it will be. Two completely different things, although they can feel eerily similar at times.

It’s a state of mind. I’m a weird person. Deep down I also know I’m a gentle person. Yes, I vent. I express my discomfort in the form of cussing, sometimes in a loud voice. Maybe you’ve seen The Silver Linings Playbook. I remind myself a lot of Bradley Cooper’s character in that movie.

If I stay active, if I continue doing, I do, I am. It will be and is okay. Bradley Cooper took up dancing with Jennifer Lawrence’s character, and by the end… Well, you know. If you don’t, maybe give that movie a watch. It’s a drama, at it’s core, but there are moments that may make you laugh, as well. I love that movie. Haven’t seen it in years. But I remember like I watched it ten minutes ago.

Philip Webb