Saturday, July 1, 2017


 Hangovers help me not to take myself too  seriously.

I DON'T KNOW exactly what I went thru the last week or three days, except here I am at my desk and my testicles ache.

I have about 1,000 pages of erotica. I have to read this very eloquent stuff to see what's going into the upcoming collection called, "TALES OF A SADO-MASOCHIST"  Unless I think of a better title.

Problem is, I start reading my own script and I am taken off to other realms... I can't seem to control it. The sex is so hot I get carried away.
At this rate, the book's gonna take a long time to finish.


I have six hundred drafts of articles/stories. I have to put some of them to bed - so when I'm doing this Writer's Notebook work - please don't expect coherence.

         66% of the prisoners in jail have Hep Cin Ontario. And too often it's three people in a small cell.The one of of three who doesn't have the disease can easily catch it in a month, or two or three months.
        So the government exposes these people to Hepatitis C.  And when a person needs medication to help cure the disease, which he/she caught caught in jail - the government refuses to help that person pay for the expensive medication he needs for a cure.
          Doesn't seem quite fair, does it?

In the dream time that has no time.

"The hero of this book is "TIMELESSNESS."   Henry  Miller

Observing the intersection of the timeless and time: this is the occupation of a saint.  T.S Eliot

His eyes maintain the expression of some unspeakable horror he has witnessed, seen at an undisclosed date... some monstrous reality

          He cannot report on...a dread he can't

                                from WAIT-A-BIT!  writings

        Hank's lips are moving. He's speaking
to himself. It worries me when he mumbles
like that - feels like some kind of stress
madness...And he's been mumbling quite a bit
through the last two nights of winter, fumbling
with the fetish papers he nicked from the preacher's
           A lot of panting and heavy breathing
behind the curtain... I know what these sounds mean, and they're

 perfectly normal, far as I'm concerned.
            It's the frequency of his gasping wrist exercises, this is not normal... 

not doing it all the time like this. It's the obsessive look in his eye he has
as he returns to his corner...this and his constant mumbling.  These factors are irritating and a tad disturbing.


     It's Canada Day. It's been raining so there's a pond in the parking lot across the street. I notice a woman standing there.
     She's looking at a 2 year old boy wearing rubber boots. His boots are splashing in the pond. It takes me way back - to my own children doing similar things - running in the water little rubber boots on... jumping and splashing...
      The mother, with infinite patience, watches
her child at play. I watch also. A moving sight.
And memory takes me there. She stands there for a long time.

(C) 2017 by W.G. Milne

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