A Style so Free it Takes over me

I create bombs

literature that makes minds explode

losing minds

forgetting what was taught

remembering what was sold

Lies

"Why", they ask.

"Just because.

"When", they ask

"Now".

It will always be Now

Forever

Constantly Now

And Now

Right Now

-Warner Bailey

"Life Sucks and is so Beautiful"

How Ass is My Behind?

I've got some great titles for a few unfinished pieces, mainly blog posts and business reviews, "Where the Wild Things Are", "The 3rd Year was the Worst", and "Catch Up!" are a few.
As I sit in my van on a side street of Encino, next to the freeway, I welcome the disappearance of the sun and the cool air that comes along with. I just ingested a half of a Xanax, ate a Cup of Noodle mixed with part of a can of Hot Dog Chilli from the Dollar Tree, and am sipping slowly on my famous Big Gulp Cup filled with ice and watered down Coco-Nut-Rita. Chopin plays in the background while the town's people go inside closed doors to rest before Monday arrives and brings a new week of monotony for their poor souls to envelop. Life is kind to me, I am at peace. I continue typing, hoping to excrete something worth reading, hoping not to pass out from the benzodiazepine that will surely take over firstly my feet, then my legs, with the rest of my body following, I wonder which will go limp first, my brain or my fingers.

Prelude in E minor Op. 28 No. 4

It seems to be easier for me to write titles lately than to actually put my heart on the page. I had been on such a roll and then, electricity deficiency, malnourishment, depression, and fear set in. I began writing these epic pieces in my head swearing I would get them down on paper at some point, somehow. I recognized my lack in progress and so with every bit of energy I could muster up I began writing, even if I couldn't finish, I didn't want to lose the thoughts behind what I knew would be extraordinary pieces. I collected names of the people who inspired me. I revealed my identity to the kind souls I would meet. I will connect each puzzle piece to my Prelude.

I now know why this chapter has appeared in my story, the story of me, Warner Bailey. I am a woman who no longer calls herself a girl. I am a woman. I am grown up from my childish past. I have an understanding of life that I had but forgot. I'm remembering now. I am learning how. I am a writer, always have been, always will be. I've been living out these stories. I am living the dream. I have so much wonder and excitement still in me, it's overflowing. I will hover over blank pages and let it all spill. Colorful ink droplets of love, loss, strength, courage, dark, light, hope, and power. Read me, but don't read between my lines please, there lays nothing. My imagination is great. My spirit and soul are both young and old. I possess gifts that only I can give.

If you're still reading and wondering which goes limp first, the brain or the fingers, it's the brain in this case for me. And there go the fingers. I'm struggling to press the last keys.

Tonight I will fall asleep to the sounds of Chopin making love to black and white keys. I will dream of good things and awake to another California morning, I hope to take this feeling of calm with me to tomorrow. We shall see. My wish is that you will join me.

Goodnight you princes and princesses of Maine, you kings and queens of New England.

Chopin - Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2

"Life Sucks and is so Beautiful."-Warner Bailey

Worry

I'm gonna freestyle a poem from a quote I just read that I've heard numerous times.

Why worry?

Maybe because the bills won't be paid

Maybe because things can slip my mind if I don't and fall into an ABYSS and since the abyss as I understand is a never ending type of hole which means to me that my thoughts can be slipping into infinity and at some point will come back to me,

Too late.

I worry about that.

Worry, maybe just maybe could very  possibly in some very small/minut way help me.

Why worry?

Why not worry?

Who knows what outcomes could be?

Who knows what will actually happen?

I mean, what will happen if I don't worry, if no-one ever worries again?

Isn't worry care?

I'm worried I have a warped definition of what care really means.

I'm okay, don't worry about me.

Care about me, believe in me, encourage me, 

love me for me whether I'm a prisoner of worry or spirit you see free.

I'm not worried about any of it,

I say, 

be free to worry,

Be free to be worry free.

Why worry?

Because if I didn't I may not be me.

-Warner Bailey 3.31.2018

"One day you'll look back and realize that
you worried too much about things that don't really matter."