“Write the Damn Book……Drafting Chapter One.”
Chapter One- Write the Damn Book. (The Mooted One).
It’s March of 2022, two years into a global pandemic and I am tired of NOT writing the book. For years, I have said, I have a word inside of me. Poetry, fiction and unrelated topics that would either bore the simplest of mind, or blow your fucking mind if you had two seconds to read this story, or even two cents to give a shit about someone’s tragic life and how someone came back from the ashes of mooting with a loud scream of victory after finally publishing my first book. It never fails, every time I sit down to write a book, or a poetry compilation or a blog, some distorted mayhem or distraction gets in my way and I am sick and tired of it. This is MY story, and I am sticking to it.
Many moons ago, I was born a mooted, mixed up white girl in the streets of a lower class society in a city that pretends to be special. Oh, we are special all right. Just ask Brionna Taylor or Muhammad Ali or Sue Grafton. (You can’t ask the first two because they are deceased) but you get my drift. And I was born here. A mousey white girl, underprivileged, and a force to be reckoned with. I have changed my pen name as the author of this book to protect some of the not so innocent and also, to protect myself from immediate backlash honing in on details of my story that might make you very uncomfortable.
In my story, you will hear me say the word fuck and Jesus in the same sentence. You will hear me unearth several of my personal bedtime stories about men, and marriage and drugs and corporations. You will hear me say things that will not be agreeable to the propaganda and the extreme left wing media, and you will hear me tell you tales (not so much lies) that will make your skin crawl as well as fuel your fire to find passion in your own story, because quite frankly, no one can steal your story…..It is YOUR story. It is Your Truth. It is Your cross to bear. This is my story….you will hear me say it a million times.
Therefore, once this story has been written, it is up to you, the reader, to decide if I am just some post tragic pity pouting brooding broad, or a fucking magical bad ass goddess with enough balls and madness to expose the unexplainable and the crooked mania that our World Wide Leaders would like to have you believe now that we are under their watch day and night. Even now, our keystrokes and emails are all under watch. There really are no secrets at this point. Just suckers who want to believe that the man is here to help us. I assured you that he is not.
2022, is the year of reconciliation for me. And I hope not long after reading this story, it starts a reconciliation of sorts for you if you find yourself as a Mooted one. I am sure you have lost something in this lifetime that has forced you out of your control and almost drove you crazy, so maybe my story will be the one thing to get you out of your head and into living your own fucking life on your terms once again. To be continued……
Eleanor….
