Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/notebook/bellhite
Please follow an 18+ rating.*
"I wrote another tale to finish outwards and inwards from the heart, soul, and the visions of God's grace onto the world. But, I do mutter quite a bit. I wonder, what reason do I continue to write with consistent admiration for those whom can write with measured smooth words, all without the need for countless embodiment within the realm of the broaden sentence.

"It is difficult to maintain confidence."
I must contain happiness throughout the venues of hatred that persuade me to die. I can’t resist the temptations to act according to the definer needed in our language. I have become demoralized with natural thinking, as I was fine a moment ago, and I have failed.

But, I shall continue to learn, and become what is needed of me. I shall continue to live on-wards, and write onto the basis of contracted love that desires me, embraces me, and suffice to love me onto eternal life.

For I have an eternal life to remain true to God, if I can, in which I know that the blade can crack on contact with shields. What am I to do when I become neglected and left out in the rained-out street? I need to continue, and confess the sins I have done for mistaken confidence does offer me downwards into a deepened suffering which conflicts with the confidence I have been maintaining throughout this former week.

Aid me Almighty God, help me write the words I need to use, and not what I want to use; aid me, even the word “please” is redundant to me. I believe it is the reason of ADHD that massacres the fruitless flies onto me, stand there, and agape with childish interests---companionship divided!

“I won’t surrender, I will fail better next time.”
I decided to reenact a draft for a tale I told to-day, and was beaten to the punch of a natural wonderment known to cancel the ambiguous intentions called out for, destined, and available to a greater interest of human knowledge.
Part One

Whose aim condenses uttermost conscious invaluable trust? Do I trust onto God within full limits, limitations settled across the broad bordered trust fund confined in this world. I continue to sneeze with such force that the entire house is available to the ear.

What reason at all do I condense such possible escape through carcass belief? The nose is stuffed with snot, corrupted into breathing, and I continually sneeze with posture raddled. I search across the borders of the Mexican country onto the borderline, rainy and falling torrents, belonging to the natural wonderment of life as I mention such disease onto the others. These humans won’t be able to tell the difference, I heard someone tell me once, as I cleaned the bathroom stalls, I wondered with excitement breaking the thoughts congress advised: “Don’t make a government upset when the world is smaller than the palm of the human hand!”

There are several humans residents outside to-day. I wonder what goes through their elevated minds? Frank, across the street, smokes marijuana like a fiend, and Teresa suppleness the ideals to communicate with me when available as I take the dog out, or the mention of actually retaining the grass blades to examine.

“What sort of fashion sense did I perpetuate throughout High School boarded education?” I come to wonder in brief intervals of interests. Because, in all sense, I had the attire of a teacher. But, as I continued to wear the same black coat, and the red, darkened scarlet brand of collar shirts, I demanded onto others to reminisce their vision onto others. I wore black clothing for the reason of default Pride. “Who can possibly entertain me without the greatest grandeur to satisfy the industry that propels against natural conditions, forgotten realms of natural wonderment belong here, but the pride of the Hollywood director is surpassed onto dissension. Who, indeed, can cease the involvement for traditional order and law?”
Part Three

The woman awaits her husband to take hand, but he refuses, and throws her outwards the range, and aims, and takes pitiful shots at her feet, as if he were to cause the woman to dance in dodging forsaken past-time, and allow one last shot to drive the base home. “You should truly really embrace the dance, because I am the Lord of the Dance, and I shall find the reasons to bring Satan out of that vessel carrying you, lover.”

After several more astounding shots at her feet, she demanded he cease his involvement with the weapon, that “all that thing makes you do is cause flames to arise against your fellow man-ship!” but he continued to fire the weapon, the bursting sound blustered about the entire area, sounding in ancient echoes among the tonic skies bringing inwards towards evening. The copper fields were beginning to rise, erecting with the moonbeams hallowed against the night skies beaming with residue of the earliest day, scarlet red, stationed about the level of playing fields toned in the monstrous visions of the heavens.

The yellow brash investments surrounding the main fields, heading inwards onto the older house built some hundred thousand years before this incident, became immeasurably gray, and sufficed to believe that the grass had become sentient, which would cause the spirits and voices to upraise and become relevant in the modern ancestry. The world would understand the basic concepts of human interests beyond the realm of grasses, pollen flowering the skies above the crops, and the wind ensued belief of promised salvation gasped in the mid-drift intrigue possibly cohered to become realistic vividness.

The outside has become darker, the clouds are driving eastwards, succumbing to the darkness. I elevate the hands I once pulled the trigger with, and determined the approximate amount of bullets it would take to kill the woman before me, smiling she was and had done since our first meeting in the American culture based in Texas, Lake Jackson. The morning shall come, I tell myself with determination, uprooting a fear waiting down, getting surfaced within motionless announcements. “I shall take heed and cover myself in the wings of the God I suffer to serve.” I appoint my eyes towards the outside realm, behind the closed window, I surface the waters, and the belonging of grass blades, which had been released from their tall disorder.

Part Four

I watched as several cars and vehicles postured against the terrain of the cement, which turfed their tires to measure. I was clearer than before, sinking in baskets of sunshine, allowing the open curtains to lay way with the heat, and the promise of winter did invite me towards greater establishment. And I looked, and behold, a dragonfly sitting awhile lifted in the air – perfectly still, moving in moronic desire, move net half-alive, and half-dead—almost orthodontic in pleasure! But, what a concerning little creeping thing, with wings brittle, and body fluid in gushing goo?

I upraised the movements, noticed several dragonflies had interloped onto my location, in which I refused to watch them afterward, in which their flying wings did not resent me. Instead, I comforted the thought of partaking in writing, and not the mention of viewing creeping insects flounder about the grassy field leveled with puddles of rain water from the yesterday prejudice weather. And now, that I have resisted to appear the looking outside realm, I now see a colored fly bussing around with business not his own, or her own desire. It crawls upon the window seal, burden onto one of the several corner rectangles embedded as the infrastructure of the window. Windows known to fight against plotting evil in explosive traits, but instead to satisfy against the tormenting winds overblown from the existence of mankind's sinning endeavors.

I become a statue for the men and women to see. The world has become relevant, once more. The God I trust for love, suffering, and wisdom onto the written texts, astounds me with appraisal for granted existence. I am nothing without Him, as it is said within the ancient texts, the scriptures, as one is said, the law that has been made true, and the law is Jesus Christ, whom has vindicated us as our Lord Jesus Christ died upon the nailed embarrassment of the ancient rugged cross. Storm-light brings avalanche of total desire among the lovers of time.

“I would like to eat some bread, but that is out of the question. I can’t have bread because it goes against the diet I am currently obtaining to achieve onto weight loss proportions. I have lost about eighty-pounds of weight, fat, and detestable flesh, awhile I have caved inwards skinnier investments.
Part Five

The compounds of nature are not against me, but the medication suffered through the baseless chemicals known to come from then reimbursement of plants, and chemicals such as, are made true to the exact counter attic I have obtained. What am I speaking about—come here, little child!”
Awoke this morning with a dire need for sustenance, which followed with conversion of matter and spiritual elements conversed with natural abilities to confess natural love. And here I am, conversing with oneself onto the matter of narcotic intentions.

What else could possibly pour out of me?

I stature forwards, leaning inwards, and tell the woman beside me, "I'll make some coffee, but I have become abhorrent towards the taste, and I become disquieted to resistance."
You are quite the wordsmith. Do you plan to participate in NaNo (AKA NaNoWriMo AKA National Novel Writing Month) in November? We are doing prep over at "October Novel Prep Challenge. Today is the last day to join that and get credit, but you can do the exercises any time you want. The official NaNo site is not related to WdC. It's http://www.nanowrimo.org

If you decide to participate, good luck!
Thanks Schnujo Cujo Misses Fangus for the plug for OctoPrep. For those already participating, keep up the good work. If you're not, why not? Fun and games will ensue if you join. Just saying. You never know when the cheerleaders will pop in and spread some fairy dust your way.
I am getting better at home.
I'm thinking about getting a cat.
I think it will be a male.
I had a male for 17 years and a female for 15 years.
Rusty and Francis were good cats.
Maybe, I will have two cats?
A female as well..
I have freshwater aquariums.
A 38 and a 55 gallon...
I like live plants and Angle Fish and catfish.

Bob County
The catfish we have here in Texas are called "Hard-heads" and those "cats" are terrible monsters that eat whatever floats about the surface of the waters. Which means, it will eat about all elements of trash, food, and whatever else is made available to them. It's not well mannered to eat "Hard-heads" either.

The catfish I have is yellow and less than inch long.
It has a bristle nose and stays mostly at the bottom.
I also have some Molleys and some fan tailed Techtras.
There also plenty of plants and four Angels.
Mating Angels in either tanks.

Bob County
I'm boasted onto the Lord, and I complain about the mature vision of human ancestors belonging to congress! In other words, the stature of my thinking is drastically taking effect on me, as the medication has dominated me into restlessness, but also onto the confinement of terrible atrocious valor, which honors slumber, deepened onto deep spaces.
Ah, what?
Yeah, I'm with Crow. I don't get what you are saying. lol
I didn't take the medication last night, therefore I was writing like a crazed man. I was so indifferent about certain qualities in life, I decided to write the best I could in the mental state I was concerned about.

In the sentences that didn't cause sense, I said: "I took the medication that helps me, but the side-effects were made available to me. In other words, I couldn't sleep last night.

I found it interesting that I felt courage as I tried to enter slumber for the coined night. And that courage to sleep doesn't come cheap.
Thank you for your response to my email.
I like the tushy and panty and breast stance.
This is a very intense cartoon.

Bob County
Haven't been online for awhile, now. But, I'll commit to written works without drastic intentions being sub-verse!
  •   1 comment
Welcome back! *Smile*
I am chilled with comparisons of myself towards other authors bestowing themselves forwards, and me retreating backwards. I want to read, but the procrastination desires me to simply find an abode and confine in it, all without reason or metaphor.

I said to oneself the previous last week upon Sunday: “I will watch an anime, and write down a tale about it in the given time I’m allowed.”

But, it’s still returning to me, this idea to write down a collection of stories to recuperate my divine intentions.
“I’ve never confined in the definition of a probable job in this life. I am concerned about the implications of work being the main directive in life’s understood boundaries. I wonder what it’s like to work, not that I haven’t worked before, but I have complications to survive the main reasons behind daily living.

I’ve never thought that perhaps I was self-evident and compromised to be the final demand for human understanding, compelling me to compromise—less it be sweet love, or demanding institutions of love, kindness, and the compassion towards human personalities.

Ever since I awoke from slumber, I have been miscalculated. I don’t know the reason my emotions settle and become suppressed besides the allowance of medication diving them down, down into the darker corners of the heart which have little, or none, appointments to survive in the light.

If I can’t even handle one emotion, one thought progressing to natural abilities—what honorable thought shall I become known to satisfy upon without answers to divide the heart? In other words, the light is stronger than the incoming darkness.

I must continue to write, as I have been, but the depressive infliction conforms me to dearest answer and sullied questions shall burn with birthing notions.


“The simple measure of love does demand truth among the people of Israel. Wonderment becomes sedated when their weapons fire above the main coordinates of our human heads, brisked with hair, or bald developments.

*Pipe* *Pipe* *Pipe*

  •   1 comment
I always had problems with work. The key is finding the right type of work that nurtures you. Not everyone can do any job... in spite of what they tell you.

I bounce between depression and anxiety, sometimes both at the same time. Not easy to do what others want me to do on demand.

Within the treasured amount of time I have been granted, I shall absorb the natural call to understand the mates and the pals' who suggest to understand basic intentions.

I am but the sorrowed depressive idiot! But I shall not devour the human world, though teeth are sharp, and mouth is muscular in directions unknown to us humans.

"Whose aim does induce troublesome venues of appetite?"
When the final words are published and extracted from the brain, shall I endure with severe pain? Contortions are available to me without presumed conspiracy, elevating natural involvements for the partaking of love and the awesome treasures God makes known to those who seek His Almighty Loving Face!
“The main incentive of life covers me with Godliness that performs into saints through the Lord Jesus Christ, I shall owe much to the burden in life. Welcome me into the welcoming hands of stretched invitation."
I understood the main message brought to me in the earliest of morning sunshine. The blessed North had invaded, and I, too, became unavailable to the weapon lurched in height and measure towards a greater weight not known to these two hands of mine. Concerned, I said, "I mustered the odd embrace of writing something on the website, known to us as a formation of encouragement. I do write with consistent pulse and phase, but I am more concerned about the notion of written texts that produce from the human brain."

I removed the rifle from these two human hands, bellowed outwards a shout of extreme pretending digestive investigation, and continued with mere words: "Who can satisfy the immeasurable joy that does not evaluate well?"
* Content and content ratings in this area are monitored solely by this member. Page owners have the ability to remove posts and/or block posters who do not follow the content rating or who post unwanted content. In addition, each member can block/ignore another member using the Block/Ignore Members" link on the Account Options screen.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/profile/notebook/bellhite