This is a piece I wrote a while back on Telegram, which is really where I am spending all my time, and like all Unique and new inventions, it has been under attack and attempted takeover by those suspects here in T.O. and ON that you see all over the crime scene. It’s called Project South, and well – 86 the Zulu, and the Piper Portfolio for the Dirty SIN Network Poacher Club.

You can’t fake it if you don’t have that gift, because all creators know that when we are in the trance space of our work – that is our Prayer and Thanksgiving to God.

99 p.s. —« whoever said, “I hate writing, but I love having written”

Needs to be an editor

bc . . . some of the shit REAL writers produce in that state of absolute leave the planet Euphoria, dancing around when they find the right werd or frequency to the point that everything else is out of balance like a toothless old white metal stove that really should have just stayed avacado green, if yu kwdmeans : )

Real writers – writers of the funeral, the bitter fingers, the snow, cement and . . . those ivory towers of . . . hungry hunters tracking down the hours, the stiletto that cuts you once bc the woman’s so fast you can taste the blood and then you wake up to Monday Morning in your head and want to hit that weirdo next door in the face wif a shovel while Boomer and his greasers are outside doing a song and dance with the catoosa cahooties. . . .

and that’s why ole Peekang the Creeper of ALL TIME . . .(it’s in the bloodroot, apparently . . . says that

(read this in a very very loooooooow mumble, mkay? . . : )

“It’s not good to spend too much time in the Spirit World. It’s nice there a good place to visit, but we cannot live there.”

and of course that’s all he said – because like an old codger of the lowest and highest sort . . . Rather BashedIn lookin Cradle board head, if you axe ole DelilahcawcaW.

doesn’t give you the answers.
He gives you the eaows. . . .because – believe ME!!
That old fucker will tune yer wolfbeaowbrb Eaowgs
lilke nobody
if you really want to Learn from a
Bushwhackinmastahsurgeoun

And he gives you the proooscripts
the ole school medics versions
of pre medicide, shugas.
and if you’re really really
smart and clevah like an ole
foxhound, you will save all the pages,
all the preeeeeeeeescriipts
all the plans and notes and
even the original medicines, beause
you always save your starter, like . .

Sour dough – except bannock wif berries. : )

and then after he’s roughed you all up and laughed at you, he and his band of clever gypsies who always roam around behind particular brbs wif a kickapoo stomp in their dah’s lard bucket .❤️

he flings you out the door wif nuttin but a can of Dr. Pepper and a Smart Foniac and a traill of OPPerational Moose dropp9ings to follow you around like a bunch of Turnip farmers

wif Fire.

and that is why – 1. If you hate writing but love having written, you are not a writer

beccause when we are in the midst of using that gift that God gave to us and us alone, we are in our own personal heaven, our own element, and

we not only love the preee stage, the thought, the vision, the crafting of the ideas, characters, themes and tails. . .

but we adore the referene, the pages, the biblios, the indices, the footnotes that we so lovingly stack like firewood in our Great Grand’s Homestead fireplace, STripey ❤️

and we lose ourselves in the process – no matter the subject we write – whether it’s long, eloquent poems of love to planet earf like the Little Prince, or a Movie Script like Hounddoawg Charlie and the Sandpipers always churn out (and then put on little Plays!! :D)

or a novel of the most Delicious and Edible Overactive Imaginaries on the Kwabbatch field Qballers will unnerstand that. . . .

and we love coming out of the trance, and reviewing what we produced in that altered state – because that’s what writing is.

And if you cannot go into an altered state to tell that story that God Himself has given you to tell, like my White Wing Dove knows, . . . then you are not a writer.

Because it is our breath.
Our life.
Our essence.

And we can never ever believe we said, did, wrote those things that came from the very depths of that very, very Rich Wreck. ❤️

Sela

Come Visit us on Telegram, check out the News, watch an R.E.M. or Blue Rodeo or Train Concert, or a Kitchen Party — and be a part of the most cutting edge new media concept you can imagine! — Piper