Taking Stock...The Things That Matter Most

Taking Stock...The Things That Matter Most

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    LECTURES 905
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    Votes 19
  • WpPart
    Chapitres 31
WpMetadataReadContenu pour adultesEn cours d'écriture8m
WpMetadataNoticeDernière publication sam., mars 10, 2012
The hardest thing a writer must get used to is the fact that not everything you write will be great. Now that I've been around for many a year...I've realized that the hardest thing I must get used to is the fact that most of what I write will not be great. When that one great one does find it's way out of my brain, via my arms/hand/fingers/pen, onto the paper though...it's like my yearning to write has been worth all the sub-par works. The way I look at it, it's my way to work the cream to the top...like churning the butter I used to do as a child. I just probably don't make butter as well or as often as I used to. You as my friends and reader-ship must have already realized this as well...that most of what I write will not be great. It is something that I am glad you have came to grips with and accepted. I would hate to lose you under the pretense that I can write great words. If you stick with me though...I promise to never stop trying to churn butter for you to place upon your tongues to melt into gooey greatness as it slides down your throat. I will never stop trying to write that masterpiece that will not let your eyes look away. What you are about to dive into is...the poetry and writings of Kevin Stock.
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" this all is your fucking fault" all of a sudden I was slammed against my locker,towering over me was my arch enemy 'Sam the Dam'. My head was pounding against the hard surface,I hissed in pain glaring straight to him. He was fuming with anger like a predator ready to attack his prey. He stretched his right hand to grab my neck and placed the left one on my shoulder to keep me still. He lowered his chin to my ear and snarled "you are fucking dead 'Meth' ,if I have a slightest clue of your involvement in this shit, I will hunt you down till your last breath". I was choking on air and my vision was a blur ,for a while I thought I was going to die .Mustering all the courage that I could have found, I yanked him away from me. Mean while I was gasping for the air, that dickhead had his usual cocky smirk. I aimed at him and broke his nose ,blood oozing in droplets" want to mess with me Sammy! , first of all clear your own shit, you son of a bitch! "with that I punched hard-on his lower abdomen while he was still holding his bleeding nose, I left the locker room with a sense of victory. Two competent boxers who can't stand each other for a moment without insulting.... Ultimately fall in love. Man*man gay romance leave if you are homophobic.

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