I travelled through time again while drawing which is nthe last thinhg that I need on a day when I passed on harvesting the 1st and would like to pick up that following a less than great harvest day yesterday.
Harvest more than two fields is a great good day, don't get me wrong, but I have a higher standard since I'm aiming to millionize my second straight year.
Oh and Desky, because he's old and prone to being cranky,froze up on me for a few moments just because twisting the knife seemed like fun to life.
Fortunately it was only for a few moments and not longer or I would have fallen even further behind than I already am.
Luckily it's the morning and I only have to work on the kindness story.
Finally though, I had done all the drawing for it and which included the signing of my name, which was something that I didn't always do, even though I should because I should own all of my drawings with the pride of putting my name to them.
I signed my name carefully, because I didn't have it in me to make up a cool autograph that was unreadable but distinctively mine. So what I had decided, even though I didn't do it always, I would write it so that it looked as nice as it could look.
Now all that I could do was wait for the magic to happen, which it had to or after all this hoping, I would be beyond disappointed and would feel like a fool for believing in magic.
And I'd have to keep such a disappointment to myself because once I said a homeless man gave me a feather that felt like magic they'd look at me like I was crazy and shake their head like what did I expect since magic wasn't real, no matter who had given me the damn feather.
Well, the morning is over now and I can't be happy with the harvest, even though I struck well with the kindness story.
And I'll do better in the second half. I have to.
10,000 subscribers to october-lake.com in 443 days to coincide with my birthdayday is bold when I have a single subscriber from the United States.
Though it's only since yesterday that the site was set up for subscribers so surely I will gather more of them, though, the number that I tweeted as a reply to someone as being the number i wanted to reach next year is just not achievable at this time.
Or ever.
Though I did go from 47 followers on twitter early last year to over 5000 by the end of last year so it's not impossible that I could get to some kind of decent number by the end of the year.
But my site has writing on it and god forbid anyone wanting to have anything to do with that right?
Even from people I have commented on?
Honestly, I'm not commenting on them expecting them to comment on me, I'm doing it becuase it's only right that I do what I've asked of others and if I do comment with some regualarity someone will eventually comment again right?
Oh, I've gone to the future and in the Annals Of All The Websites Ever, Volume 37, I only ever amassed 10 subscribers.
And I paid nine of those 100.00$ each to subscribe to me.
It doesn't say anything about the first subscriber's reaction to the learning of this information.
I should probably put her name in as the title of Today's Fish.
Or at least their initials in the description because they might not want to be publicly identified by name as they have a reputation to protect after all.
So definitely the initial
Heck, I'll go back and add it to the one concerning yesterday.
Yes, if you subscribe, at one a day, you'll get some kind of shout out.
I hope that this definitely becomes hard to do because I'm getting multiple subscriptions a day.
But today, that seems sadly improbable, if not impossible.
Oh bother.
And between cranky Desky and the difficulty I've been having tweeting, I am an unhappy camper.
I need to return to the kindness story now.
I stared at the drawing for ten minutes before I started to breather hard as I didn't want to swear because the magic hadn't happened in ten minutes. I knew that I was being impatient buyt the drawing shouldn't have just sat there like it was a normal drawing.
Right?
But I couldn't help myself as I had poured so much of myseld into this drawing and honestlyu felt that something special was going to happen because I didn't get sick and the feeling of warmth that I had felt pouring out of the feather when I first took it from him had me thinking this was the real thing.
For it to not be would have disappointed anyone.
I could only be called out for being close to exploding in anger like a petulant fool over the absence of magic suddenly proving its existence when it hadn't been a thing in forever.
Or more likely, ever.
I shook my fist at the drawing as I continued fighting the urge to blow like a volacano and knew that I had to go to bed because I was that upset about something that I shouldn't be upset about.
And I was starting to get tired anyway.
So going to bed made sense on multiple levels.
This was a stronger visit to Mortuvhen in today's 3rd than yesterday's and it could have been even better if I had givern it a little more time, which I could have done.
But this is a good place to end the 3rd.
Kuuanonnii my friends.
I was away from everything and now I'm back and odds are I am not going to achieve what I wanted, which requires another 1265 words today to reach 2447 today.
And late as it is into 4th Quarter, I still have enough time to harvest more than the field that I have to harvest to make good on that aim that would come with that field's harvest.
I just have to get to it and harvest less than 4 rows in each of the next four half hours which is doable.
Especially if the kindness story, or Rihana and Mortuvhen are harvested as well as they can be.
In spite of my anger, sleep came upon me like a gift that I didn't deserve and hours passed in what seemed like moments and when my eyes opened once more, I was calm and accepting that there had been no magic at all. I'd just been caught up in a foolish flight of fancy that I would have to forget that I had ever believed in or I would never hear the end of it.
But accepting this sad truth didn't mean that I was ready to get up and draw, in the faint hope that a good drawing would at least make me feel better, which it would if it was good enough.
I still needed more time to grumble and brood about a wonderful thing that hadn't come to be when I believed in the depths of my self was going to happen. In spite of there never being any magic that anyone could have pointed to in the last ten hundred years or more.
Likely longer.
Which of course it was, because never was longer than in ever, which spoke poorly of my faith in things that I couldn't explain or see.
And yet I'd believed in the power of an old feather.
What was wrong with me?
But thirst it grabbed hold of me and I got up, even though I wanted to continue sulking in bed about something I shouldn't have believed in in the first place because who ever heard of a magic feather of all things?
This idiot here, much to my chagrin.
I stopped suddenly as I sensed the presence of someone in my dark apartment, which wouldn't be dark if I had the sense of having a light by the bed so that I didn't have walk in the dark from one corner to the next.
And try as I might, my eyes could not get used to the darkness that would allow me to see who had broken into a building that only those who lived here could gain entry to unless someone had let them in by mistake.
That had happened of course, but that wouldn't have given him entry to my apatment because I always locked the door, save for when I didn't.
But I'd surely locked the door this time.
Hadn't I?
“Who's here with me?” I hissed my qyestion, fearing the response that was to come becuase I knew that I was not imagining the presence of another, who no doubt had ill intent otherwise why would they be here this early in the day.
“Magic, like a watched pot that does not boil, does not come at a time of your choosing but at its own and now is when I have chosen to come here.” The voice in the darkness said sweetly. One that was distinctly female, much to my surprise.
“Magic? What are you talking about?” I said foolishly as she had spoken clearly and no one else would use the word magic so easily.
And suddenly, the apartment was not at all dark and I saw before me the vision of a beautiful woman wearing the very gauntlet that I had designed and drawn over many hours. As proud as I was of my gauntlet, its beauty paled in comparison to hers and I fell to my knees as it was the only thing that I could think to do then as I had never before seen such a woman like her who had been this close to me.
She smiled and bid me to rise with a gesture of her hand. “You asked for me to come Joseph Perris did you not?” She asked and never did I hear a sweeter question asked of me that I was happier to answer.
It's not the worst thing that the set up of this document creator has changed, as mysteriously as it did yesterday because I still have the same tools, they're just in different places.
Though as I was formulating that thought, the size of the page shrunk to a smaller size than I would like and I can't find the sliding button to change it back.
Where's the default that should make all as it was before?
And why do they insist on making such changes so easily happenable.
Yes, happenable is a word at the lovely waters of Lake October.
It's like a feh on you to people like me who are not able to make changes that the programmers and their ilk, which are not limited to writers of code shake their heads at and say all you have to do is blah blah blah, words which are accompanied by a crazy series of gestures like we normals are supposed to understand, even though it might as well be another language.
Hey, I could do the same thing to them if they were whinging about how difficult it is to write poetry.
I wouldn't of course, because that's not me, but I could. I surely could because that;'s what it feels like when they do their blah blah blah blah with its accompanying hand gestures to me.
The night is over and the bars and pubs have made their last call.
The latter of course due to the Virus COVID.
Feh on that.
Kuuanonnii my friends.