Friday 10 May 2019

10 may 2019 what makes me cry

10may19 what makes me cry

I was just checking my figure, I know I'm big and fat, what I meant before Trump interrupted from the back of the class, somebody please post his grades, if you are listening. If I may borrow one of his phrases.

What I mean is that I was seeing if anybody was reading my new story, and where in the world. It does hearten my heart to see the figures. Nobody buys a book on Amazon, because Internet is Free., But maybe someday before I die I'll get paid.

What is nice is when an old story has been read by somebody so I check it out myself and the memories come flooding back. I cannot remember everything after all, 2400 pieces on this site, including messages like  this.

Today up popped LOST, you can read it for yourself, it's from a year ago. As I read it I began to cry, all the memories coming back, all the hopes and fears through the  years. When I write I'll mention a place here, a fact there, a person or an event too. So I'm making a Patchwork to make the story. I hope it makes them better. It's more fun for me, so you'll have to put up with it. I'll never take direction about what to write. I don't want to Ghost Write rubbish, what you see is pure Michael Casey. Ok what you get is battered Michael Casey, that's why I'm so crunchy. These past 6 years physical pain has reared it's ugly head so  it does get a mention in the prologue to what I write. Otherwise I carry on regardless, stopping for pain killers as and when needed. And no I'm not high on anything, and it does not aid the creative process. I have an imagination and I know how to use it as Donkey from Shrek might say. And yes I look like Shrek, but smell like a Donkey.

Anyway I hope if my own words  make me cry as I look back, then they make you all think too, if you are in Ukraine you never cry, you are as tall as trees and twice as strong. However I hope my words touch you all, to make you smile or laugh, or even cry. So long as you don't reach for a shovel and say we should bury this Michael Casey in the cabbage patch, at least then he'll be useful, helping the cabbages to grow.

Stay happy Michael Casey, the fat silver haired writer in shades from Birmingham England










































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