The Journals: Part I: Letters to Nobody
By
Emanuel Jones
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PUBLISHED BY:
The Journals: Part I: Letters to Nobody
Copyright © 2013 by Emanuel Jones
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Adult Reading Material
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The Journals: Part I: Letters to Nobody
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Dear Friend,
Please don’t get mad if you ever get to read these letters and wonder why I referred to you as a “Nobody” or didn’t ever say your name. I have tried many of time to forget you but my heart still yearns for you. Every time that I close my eyes my mind keep thinking of you in that Victoria Secret black-lace panties and bra see through set with those black and white polka dot peep toe heels. I remember sitting on the edge of the bed watching you walk over to me. You spun around and dropped it low making sure that your ass rubbed up against my dick on the way back up. Then you sat on my lap and grind me in a reverse cowgirl style like a hot slutty stripper working for a dollar tip. I was so turned on that I grabbed you by the legs and slide your lower torso up my way. Pulled those black lace panties to the side and told you to ride my face.
This is too much and replaying that night isn’t helping me get over you. I know that we couldn't ever fully be together and I'm okay with that now. I'm just not really sure where we went wrong and why our communication stopped like it did.
Dear, Friend
Days have passed and I still can't get over things. My mind keep running wild and I haven’t slept well in months. My mind has been running 100 miles per hour lately and I’ve been having a lot of blank thoughts. Second guessing myself and worrying about sells of something that I have yet to write, this isn’t me. There was once upon a time in my life when I was truly happy and had no worries; however, it's unfortunate that I've became so jaded that I can't remember those times. Things are getting back bad for me...
Dear, Friend
I've noticed myself falling back into a lot of my old habits with a few new habits mixed in. I feel as if I live in three different worlds as of late. The world that everyone around me is in "common world", the one I live in my head, and last but not least the new one of my old and new habits. The things I do in my "old-new world" I can't tell anyone in the "common world". There's no way in hell that I could tell anyone that I have been spending at least three to four days a week in a strip club with some of the city's dirty girls and their sweaty yams in my face. I couldn't tell them that I've been rolling Backwoods blunts and smoking weed like I'm Willie Nelson either. What have I done? I'm not in touch with myself or maybe I'm not in touch with others I'm forced to face every day in the "common-world". Not sure where to go from here...
Dear Friend,
Sometimes it feels like I won't ever find what I'm searching for in life and those around me can't appreciate my quest to find myself and/or my dreams. Do I walk away from the "common-world" to find what's inside me? How can I go on living multiple lives?
I use to know what the hell I wanted in life but now I'm not sure what it is I'm searching for in life anymore. Empty thoughts and feeling like a lost soul on a desert highway might sum it up. Depending on the day I just want to soak in a tube of hot water other days I just want to sit in front of my computer smoking bowl after bowl of the best medicine that Cali has to offer.
Do you not ever just look up at the sky and wonder just how much of what's out there that you've have yet to see or touch? That's how I feel roughly six out of the seven days of a week. It feels like I'm fighting a strong current upstream in my daily life. People that I thought believed in me are also the one's I'm finding out that doubt me. This shouldn't come as a surprise to me because I've been fighting my whole life to prove my worth as well as my presents.
Dear Friend,
Today while hanging out at my new favorite bar, I witness a dude in the restroom snorting coke off his hand as if we were back in the '80s at Studio 54 or something, I didn't judge much but it was interesting to see it happen. I wanted to ask him if the coke, the booze, and the dancers in the club helped him to relax or wired him up to party hard. I digressed and didn't ask though. I hadn't really talked much about the place I've dubbed as "Cheers". It's not really called that but I like calling it that. From watching coke deals go down in the restroom to hearing about the strippers grandkids I've got to admit that I'd rather be at Cheers than at home. Rumor has it that more stuff goes down there then what my eyes see but I still enjoy it there. I feel apart there and somewhat normal unlike faking my happiness in the "common-world". Most of the people there aren't ashamed of what they do and large parts of me envy them cause of it. I sit and study the hustle of the strippers. I listen to how they sweet talk the customers for dances and cocktails, and how easily guys willingly come out the pocket for little bit of attention from a pretty woman. Some girls sit and talk with the same guy or group of guys multiple times a week.
Dear Friend,
Although I've tried to make things better they just seem to sway further away. We're different in many of ways but I wouldn't have thought that being a little different from one another would push us apart. My heart is much divided at the moment. Where I am in life right now you’re not and being lost in my own thoughts is just a small part of why I am the way I am. I get the feeling that you and others around me do not get or understand the "artist" in me. Thinking about writing, think about writing, and living a creative life style isn't easy when I live with so many judgmental people near. I got to live and feel the things I write. My addiction to the "gateway drug" weed and the true gateway drug pussy over takes me strongly. My way of making extra money is looked down on.
If you work hard and pay your taxes you still get fucked over being lower class. If you’re a half ass writer like myself you get fucked over by the major book agents and publishing houses because you’re not some self-center celebrity or reality star. The days of good story telling are over and the loss of life feeling deep within me continues to grow stronger. "If you believe you can achieve" is by far one of the worst false hope lines ever thought to kids to date.
Dear, Friend
I'm not really sure what is going on with me lately, things seem to keep spiraling out of control and I can't stop it. I can't seem to tell real from fake anymore. One great moment swiftly turns into a week of nightmares. No clear thoughts to be creative and people around me can't seem to understand why I haven't been writing. Slipping Jack Daniels straight out the bottle through a long tip straw while re-stuffing a Backwoods blunt full of Blue dream Haze from somewhere up in the Emerald Triangle. Trying to figure out what I'm going to write about or even if I should continue to write at all. Some think just because I clam to be a writer that I can pull great stories and/or lines out my ass...Not so true! The writing is getting harder to do these days as well as coping with my day to day lifestyle of the three w's (whiskey, weed and women).
Dear, Friend
Thing
s are getting dark a little too dark to see. How do I keep my life together while it’s falling apart at the same time? I’m not really sure what to do or where to go from this point. The three W's seem to be the only things I enjoy in life lately. The thought of being restless comes to mind when I sit and think on it. Is there anything more out there for me? Will I ever do great things in life or is the end nearing for me? I feel the depression in the air surrounding me and the mockery in the voices of those around me when I try to express my feelings. Things are getting bad for me again so bad that I try to sleep my way through each shitty day to the next. At times the thought of never waking up make me have something to look forward too, but then I awake to only realize that even death cheated me.
Dear, Friend
The end is nearing I can feel it. I've been standing pretty close to the edge lately trying to overcome this unknown feeling about myself, life, and you. I drown myself in pussy, weed, and booze but the feeling only die for a moment and then it's back. I found myself enjoying the feeling of not feeling. I just want to forget! I just want to forget! My life has become a bad living dream that I can't escape or wake up from.
Some people seem to get comfy in their relationships but what one side might not realize is that they might not belong together in the first place.
Dear, Friend
I've made the choice to try and focus on writing and less on those near and/or dear to me. The more I sit and think about all my misdoings I realize that I'm not living fully for me, yet I'm not sure where to begin. Do I turn my back on everyone that has wronged me as well as those that I feel that don't understand/get me. When did life become so hard to understand? Apart of me wishes that I could express myself to others freely without repercussions.; however another part of me wishes that I knew how to express what I'm going through and the feeling I have much better. I'm lost! Yet here I sat trying to figure things out for myself about myself and I realized that I pretty much don't have anything in common with most of the people in my life at the moment. I take a puff off a Backwoods stuffed full of Cali's best then take a shot of Crown Black and let the good vibes of my muscles relax. I feel the eyes of others watching, judging, and doubting me daily waiting on me to slip up and show my failing poker face.
Dear Friend,
She and I met on a random night at the strip club, my mind was in no man's land and she smiled at me. She introduced herself and I did likewise. I was instantly attracted to her plus the icing on the cake was that she had a pretty smile. It was one of those smiles that every-time she smiled I smiled too in joy. I found myself getting lost in her smile to the point that I was trying extra hard to be funny just so she would laugh and smile. I hope she didn't think I was creepy because I kept focusing on her mouth. She had smile lines which led me to believe that she smiled often. Once I was able to refocused I then noticed other things that I adored about her like her eyes, her long legs, and how warm her sweet spot felt when she grind up on me. For the most part I enjoy the vibe my internals get when she's around; my mind is clear of "the common-world" I'm relaxed and the mood sets itself. But then in that moment of bathing in her I began to question things because let's be for real she do make money by being nice and witty to douche bags such as myself. I think I've just became one of those guys that falls for the stripper at her place of business.
Dear, Friend,
I should have known that it was too good to be true; it was a Tuesday when she and I were texting when she hit me with the bombshell. “I’ll only be working at the bar for two more weeks”, she told me. “Are you getting tired of dancing already”, I replied. “No, my man will be getting out soon and he doesn’t know that I’ve been dancing and he would kill me if he found out.”
I was but wasn’t shocked that she had a man, but I was more dumb-founded by her comment. “I’m not the cheating type” I tried to keep my cool via text when I asked her why she gave me her phone number if she had a man and wasn’t the cheating type. She told me that I was cool, harmful, and good peeps. What the fuck!? It appears that I have a thing for women that are unavailable. I always seem to fall for those types.
Dear, Friend,
I think this girl is trying to play with my head. Days later after telling me that she had a man and that she wasn’t the cheating type she and I talked at the bar. She had been drinking which she usually doesn’t do and was all bubbly acting. She asked me to come with her to a show on Saturday because she didn’t want to go alone. When I went to tip her on stage she cupped my junk and smiled at me. Before I left the bar for the evening we made plans to meet up later that night. Night time fell upon us and we chilled at her house smoking bowl after bowl of some Cali Bubba, talking, and listening to music. She started getting comfy and wanted me to go, but then she wanted me to massage her neck and shoulders knowing that I would. After I massaged her neck and shoulders we talked some more and somehow we were standing up face to face and I tried to kiss her, she called me out on it and I replied by telling her that I wouldn’t be a man if I didn’t try. We laughed about it and I tried again. She then told me that she don’t kiss on the first date. I was like I didn’t know that this was a date, and she was like yeah this is the first time that you’ve seen me fully clothed.
I instantly thought about getting her undressed but I played it cool and laughed. As I walked out the door heading to my car I couldn’t help but think about all the stuff that she dropped on me the other night and how she came on to me today, and how she wouldn’t kiss me tonight and calling tonight a date. I can’t get a read on this girl and its driving me crazy for some reason. I know she’s full of shit but I keep playing into it for some crazy reason. Prime example, I text her tonight asking when we're going to have "date" number two? This bitch is crazy, she text back saying that she's getting married and that she doesn’t think a second date would be appropriate. That's all I needed to hear...Number deleted! My attraction to unavailable women will strike again soon with a new victim.
Dear, Friend,
I feel things slipping away from me fast. I've got to get my mind right and not let the doubters get to me. Noting in my life has come easy up to this point so I should be used to this feeling. I've always been one of those if I feel threaten I'm going to fight kind of person. Writing has helped me release a lot of stress and to tell personal stories without being majority judged, and getting paid for doing something I love isn't bad either. But I look at and see things different than most of those around me which on top of others things have backed me into a corner forcing me to live in "different worlds". The trust level that I once had in people I called my friends isn't there anymore. I really do feel that it’s just me and my words against the world anymore. Being more mindful of what I say too and around those in the "common-world" has me feeling untrue to myself. What good is freedom of speech if the only way to get ahead in life is to kiss the ass of the person above you? I guess the truth is that I never learned to fully trust anyone in my life because no one really showed or given me legit reasons too.
Dear, Friend
Today I walked around the park people watching and brain storming about my next novel. I found a bench near a man-made pond and waterfall where I sat for hours doing more thinking than writing. I thought about all my poor choices in women as well as life in general. I thought about how things between you and I should of been different, how it appears that my life is limbo, and how I don’t know what it means to be truly happy. Things have gotten so hard to explain to others and I’m not even sure if I could explain that I would. I can’t count the number of times per day I think about getting into my car and driving away from everything and everyone in my life. Just I, my computer, and the open road are all I feel I need at the moment.
I have this vision of myself looking out at the Pacific Ocean just as the sun is leaving its foot print across the sky. The waves become music to my ears as they slap up against the seawall. I picture myself standing the edge of the seawall embracing the moment. Ju
st sitting here thinking about it makes me smile and feel freer than ever.
Webster defines "Free" as not bound, confined, or detained by force; I feel very confined in my current life positions. My life has been full of tests and having to prove myself to others. I've always been a fighter and getting back into a corner only makes me fight harder; however, I've grown some over the years and I'm not going to let the doubters back me into a corner nor am I going to let them bag me up in their bag of tricks either. Just like Carlito I too want to retire in Paradise.
Maybe I'm letting the voices in my head run my life, or maybe I'm not crazy and about 80 percent of humans aren't to be trusted. My search for greater knowledge and understanding of the human mind has brought me to the point of not caring anymore because I'm lost. Should I continue to chase my dreams or should I just give up and conform to an average day to day do as I'm told working stiff?
I beginning to think the older I become and the more I reflect on my past and present I feel the anarchy in me is growing. I'm not really sure who I'm becoming. Living use to enough for me but now days it doesn't seem to be enough. Feeling more and more disconnected with the world and those in it.
Dear, Friend,
Here I sat on another nice spring day looking at the circles of people around me and can't help but to think of all the lies and back stabbing that goes on in those circles. Then I zoom in on this one guy who always got a story or two about him and his "well off" friends, or my favorite how much money he won over the weekend. I can't help but wonder just full of shit is he or is he really telling the truth. Looking right into your face saying one thing but thinking another is what I see people do daily. As random as my thoughts are I that is some logic to them.
The Journals: Part I: Letters to Nobody Page 1